Let’s start with a little background:
We’d had thundershowers last night – the kind of thundershowers where you get a quarter inch of rain in about a half hour. I’d been outside for devotions and pretty well prepared for some rain, but by the time I scrambled inside, my shoes were soaked, along with halfway up my legs.
Then the clouds cleared and it got very cold by this morning, but the ground was still fairly warm – so we got a ‘killer fog’. It’s called that by our law-enforcement friends because you come into it suddenly, and it is extremely disorienting. It was one of those fogs we get where you can’t see more than five feet, and it’s very dangerous to drive in.
And as Wheaton and I stepped out into it this morning, I noticed the difference immediately. There was a ‘closeness’ that was almost claustrophobic. All shadows felt close, and all light seemed far away. Dead silent, all sounds suppressed by the fog.
We left the driveway, headed down the lane, and almost immediately the feeling was disorienting. The fog was so thick that I literally could not see the trees as we walked through the grove of the cloud-sifters. Shadows leaned close on either side, drops fell all around us as we walked, masking the sound of our feet.
After a couple minutes, we broke out into the open, and the darkness lifted, replaced by… nothing. It was like walking in sensory deprivation. We kept walking; I could feel the road surface under my feet, and barely visible ahead of me were Wheaton’s platinum-blonde paws and waving tail. But for several minutes it was as if we were standing still in time, moving-but-not-moving, the only creatures in apparent existence because there was nothing else to see. Normally, you have the visual check of moving through the trees, passing brush and shrubs, landmarks with changing aspects like the neighbor’s driveways and fences; but today, all we could see was the pinpoint of light in the distance from the utility light at the end of the lane. (Our Road Committee put it in because many of us nearly did significant property damage from missing the turn.)
I started to marvel – and chuckle inwardly – at the Biblical parallels and the lesson I was getting here. Hey, there’s no reason there can’t be some humor in a lesson, especially when you consider that God is a joyful God… then there’s the “cloud” I was walking in, and the point of light in the distance that was the only landmark I could trust.
Here’s Hebrews 12: 1-2 (NIV), and with the above in mind, you can now chuckle along with me as we close with the Bible quote:
12 Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.