As I drove the children to school, I began to complain that I couldn’t see. ThingOne looked at me with her eyebrow cocked, “You can see. Look right there in front of you. I can see the road.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t see up there,” I answered, pointing down the street a bit where the fog stood like an opaque wall.
ThingOne probably rolled her eyes as she said, “But you’re not up there. You can see here. Where you are. And when you get there, the fog will be lighter. Like it is here.” Fortunately, she left the “duh” unspoken.
Of course, she was right. Though the fog looks impenetrable from a distance, it always opens up and thins out enough for me to see the road immediately in front of me. Sometimes the heavy fog makes it impossible to see five feet ahead, but I can always see the spot where I am and the next inch.
This morning, I didn’t need to worry about the fog up ahead. I could see enough to drive the next foot, then the next foot, then the next foot. And that was enough.
That’s how life goes sometimes. We can’t see very far down the road. And it doesn’t do any good to worry about how dense the fog is and how limited the visibility seems way up there. We’re not there yet. We’re here. And we can see enough to go the next step.
Until that time, we inch forward in our cloudy cocoon, trusting God will send enough light and visibility for the next step.
Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. – Matthew 6:34