Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Hiding in the Fog

It is foggy outside this morning. I love fog- I love the sense of mystery, of things hidden that are waiting to be discovered. I love the way sound is dampened, and hard edges are softened. I think we all need a little fog, now and then. Hardness has a way of becoming brittle, of snapping, or cutting. I love the gentleness of fog.

I imagine so does the turkey. I love Thanksgiving, but I do feel sorry for the turkey. They really are a beautiful bird. How unfortunate for them that they taste good. If I were a wild turkey, I'd be praying for fog every day. Take courage turkey- a day is coming when the lion will lie down with the lamb and we will all be eating angel food (we hope...) for Thanksgiving. Oh, and every day will be Thanksgiving. For ever and ever. There will be no more crying, dying, sighing, or denying. It will be glorious.

I seem to have an increasingly large circle of friends undergoing very hard circumstances. They are all trying very hard to persevere, to be brave, and are applauded for how hard they work to overcome. But I know some of them are tired. They want to give up. They want to crawl into a corner and cry, but then someone might not think they are a hero, and everyone needs to be a hero to someone. Maybe sometimes God sends the fog to shroud those bitter moments of despair, when all we can do is cry out to Him, not certain of any response. Just hiding in the fog with the turkey. I think God sometimes whispers in the fog, "It's ok, even on a day of Thanksgiving to wonder if you have been forsaken. There is hope, but I know you might not always feel it, and the bright cheery sun is an affront. Dear child of mine, I bring you the fog to hide your tears, and when you are ready, my arms are reaching out to comfort you. Your sighing is never hidden from Me."
Gobble, says the feathered friend in the fog.
"Oh yes, Me and the turkey are here with you."


Psalm 38: 8-9, 21-22
8 I am feeble and utterly crushed;
   I groan in anguish of heart.
 9 All my longings lie open before you, Lord;
   my sighing is not hidden from you.
 21 LORD, do not forsake me;
   do not be far from me, my God.
22 Come quickly to help me,

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