Friday, November 13, 2015
When I Can't See
As we began our descent of the mountain, we ran into the densest fog I've ever seen in my life. It was beyond thick, and I couldn't see anything. Not the vantage point one desires when driving down a curvy mountain road. Evidently, I wasn't the only one having trouble as numerous cars--and even motorcycles--were parked on the sides of the road, presumably waiting for the fog to clear. I wondered if we shouldn't do the same, but Jason (who was thankfully driving) assured me that he could see. "I've got it, babe. Just sit back and relax." Yeah, right! Did he seriously expect me to relax? Doesn't he know me at all?
I tried to calm down or, at the very least, sit back in my seat, but it just wasn't working for me. I wanted to see, but as hard as I tried, I couldn't. It was like staring into a misty void, and more than once I wondered how in the world Jason was able to see. I mean, I know his eyesight is better than mine, but this was ridiculous fog. Sensing my increasing apprehension, every few minutes he would squeeze my hand and say, "Trust me. I'll get us home." I wanted to trust him, but I simply couldn't understand how he could see any better than I could. It wasn't until we neared the bottom of the mountain that the fog cleared and I could finally unclench my various body parts.
As Jason drove and I tried to remain calm, a line from an old Gold City song kept playing through my brain: "When I can't stand, I have to lean, and when I can't see, I must believe." That's what Jason was asking me to do. He wanted me to believe that he could see what I couldn't. He longed for me to trust him enough that I could relax. God desires the same.
How many times in life does God lead us through a patch that is so dense with fog that we can't even see where we're going? And how many times does God squeeze our hands and say, "Trust me. I'll get you home"? I don't know about you, but it happens often in my life. I've seen more fog in my spiritual journey than I care to admit, but the shameful part is not that I've had to make my way through the misty void but rather that I've found it nearly impossible to simply relax and trust God to see me through. Just like on my trip with Jason, I can't understand how God could possibly see when I can't, so instead of relaxing and enjoying the ride, I tense up and strain my eyes and neck trying to see something. . . anything!
But you know what? As hard as I tried the other night, I still couldn't see anything. No matter how much I strained my neck and squinted my eyes, the dense fog was still unpenetrable to me. My efforts only caused a lot of tension and worry. The same can be said in our spiritual walk. When God leads us through a dense section in our journey, it's not because He longs for us to strain harder to see. It's because He wants us to let go and trust Him. Give up control! Stop trying to see what He's hidden for a reason. He wants us to know, without a doubt, that He can see just fine and that if we'll simply trust Him, He'll lead us through.
When I can't see, I must believe. It's really the only thing to do!
Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. . .But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him. - Hebrews 11:1,6