Grandma's Gleanings

Day Two Hundred Sixty-Two “Fog”

            We were about to experience a terribly stressful trip home from church.  The dimly lit country road that edges a local creek is hazardous on the best of days, narrow, jam-packed with sharp curves and bends as it follows the topography of the stream it borders.  And since the roadway traverses an area housing a huge deer population, one must be aware that at any moment one of those deer may feel the urge to dart out in front of an unsuspecting motorist.  But tonight, an added feature was thrown into to mix, for a thick, dense fog had blanketed the area, erasing visibility. Fog is an interesting weather phenomenon, consisting of vapor condensed into fine particles suspended in the atmosphere, much like a cloud except for location, being near to the ground, limiting visibility with its obscuring haze.  I recently read that a dense fog that covers seven city blocks is composed of less than an eight-ounce glass of water, divided into billions of droplets. It’s mind-boggling to think that a cup of water can cripple a city!

The Spirit-led prophet, Elijah, had experienced a stunning victory.  He had confronted Ahab and 450 Baal-worshiping priests, preached a fire-and-brimstone sermon, called upon his God, and witnessed a manifestation of God’s power unlike anything he had seen before.  “The fire of the LORD fell” and consumed Elijah’s sacrifice, handing the followers of Baal a resounding defeat. Elijah had poured out every ounce of strength for the work of God, but danger was lurking ahead, and soon he would find himself devastated by the fog of fatigue and fear.  Just as that eight-ounce cup of water had the power to create enough gloom and haze to cripple a city, worry and anxiety can settle upon us like a great fog bank, distorting our view and endangering our path. Elijah now found himself in that fog, so immersed in fear that he flees to the desert, where he collapses in utter exhaustion and discouragement, ready to die: “he requested for himself that he night die; and said, It is enough; now, O LORD, take away my life; for I am not better than my fathers.”

I am inwardly fashioned for faith, not for fear.  Fear is not my native land; faith is. I am so made that worry and anxiety are sand in the machinery of life; faith is the oil. (Stanley Jones) “Go, forth, and stand upon the mount before the LORD,” God commanded His weary servant, and with a “still, small voice” the Lord dispersed the fog that was skewing Elijah’s perspective and sets him back on the path of service. 

Are you muddling through the fog of fear, fatigue, depression today?  Listen for His still, small voice to clear your path and restore your vision.

I Kings 19:12  And after the earthquake a fire; but the LORD was not in the fire; and after the fire a still, small voice.

Thank You, Lord, that when the fog of fear clouds my path, You can clear my path with Your powerful, loving breath.

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