We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us! –
The middle of last month, we were experiencing some very foggy days. I was outside during one of my breaks and on this day the fog was so thick that scuba gear seemed like it might be necessary just to breathe. Then the thought occurred to me that standing there, looking around in the fog, reminded me of how my recovery has been.
On a good day, standing where I was, I could see a pretty good distance ahead of me. I could see the ditches, the trees, the roadways, the fences that marked various boundaries. I could tell, from one spot, all of the places I could go, and all of the pitfalls that were in the way.
On this day, though, with the heavy fog, none of this was visible. In order to see the ditch, I would have to take a step or two forward before it would appear. The trees were slightly visible, but only as dark silhouette’s against the white of the fog. Determining their size and type was difficult at best. The fence and the roadways that were normally just right there, were hidden in the clouds. As I stepped closer to these objects, they would become more focused, more clear.
Recovery has been very much like this for me. On good days, it seems that my sights are limitless. The horizon and everything that lies between me and it, are all out there to be seen. I can plan my route from start to finish from where I am standing.
On bad days, I may be standing in the same spot, but the familiarity is completely gone. I have to plan my moves, one step at a time. Crossing the boundaries that life throws at me, only after they become visible and approachable. What I saw yesterday is not visible today. It’s all silhouetted against the fog of recovery. It’s as if I had been dropped into some strange world, given a destination, but no real good directions.
Faith, courage, hope, and God get me through the foggy days. They are my fog lamps. Brightening up the immediate steps that I have to make. Making those steps just a little more comfortable.
When the clear days come back I only look back on the foggy days that were. And wait for the next fog of recovery to roll in.
Because of HIM