Have you ever driven in fog? And I don’t mean the kind of fog in your head space when you’re distracted. I mean literally a hazy, cloudy, early morning, I gotta go to work but I have to drive slowly cause I can’t see outside kind of fog? Yeah. THAT fog. REAL fog. I have.
So I get up and turn on the TV and everyone’s talking about this thick fog that’s outside and warning all drivers to drive cautiously because visibility is extremely poor. So I’m listening to the warnings and rolling my eyes. What are they even talking about? I’ve been a driver for years and I can navigate with the best of them. No worries.
So I go outside and look around. Looks clear to me. I’m thinking those weather and traffic people just have to hype everything up all of the time. What fog? So I get into my car and round the corner of my block. I stop in the middle of the street. Wow. I can’t see the traffic light that I know is supposed to be in front of me. As I approach the supposed light I see the thick cloudy mist, that I was being warned about, right in front of me, obscuring my vision. Oh. Is this what they were talking about? My bad.
I keep it moving. Slowly and cautiously I proceed. I literally cannot see but a few feet in front of me. Thought I’ve driven this way thousands of times and I know every bump and traffic light and stop sign on my route, I am blinded. Literally.
So I press on, cautiously but with faith that I will reach my destination without incident or occurrence because I KNOW the way. But as I drive on, I become less sure that I know the way. I can’t see jack. Oh boy.
This is sorta what blind faith is to me. I can’t see what’s up ahead. I know nothing about what’s coming or what to expect. I’m no longer sure about the road I’ve travelled so many times before. I now doubt every bump and curve and stop sign and traffic light. I have no clue anymore. I can’t see clearly. My short term view is blinded. Crap. Now what?
Seems like I don’t know everything after all. I have no clue where the potholes and yellow double lines are. I can’t tell if another car is coming head on into me. I can’t see if someone is crossing in front of my car potentially causing a serious accident and bodily injury. I don’t know anymore. I’m so not sure. I need help.
So I lean on Jesus. I draw close. It took me a long while to understand how to do this. It took me years to get to this place where I can do this. But I do. I give up control and trust that even though I can’t see jack in front of me . . . I don’t know what’s ahead of me . . . I’m momentarily blinded . . . He knows all. He knows what’s ahead. He sees all. If I just focus on Him and not what I’m up against, I’ll get through. He’ll be the light in my fog. I trust.
So I slow my roll. I proceed cautiously while gripping my steering wheel and holding on. I squint my eyes, as if that’ll help me to see clearer. And I continue on. I go forward. In the fog. Not knowing what’s coming. Or what’s in front of me. I can’t see jack. I’m blind. But I trust and keep it moving. That’s blind faith.
