Fog obscured the lake. Haze drifted over the trees. Bare cypress stood as sentinels near the shore. A duo of bird calls broke the silence. Then a splash. Faint waves and shadowy shapes floated through the grayness .
Dim light revealed a wall of trees across the lake. Drips from the roof punctuated the quietness. The surreal scene contrasted with the normal sunny picture.
Since Alan’s death, my life has been enveloped in a similar fog. Shadowy. Silent at times. I struggle to peer through the clouds but nothing is clear. Memories surface constantly. But reality is elusive. The distance is a blur. The future too painful to imagine.
However, tiny steps along the edge are manageable. The haze offers protection for a time. Gradually, light will break through. Broken pieces will be formed by the Master Craftsman into a new life. Remnants of the old pieced together for His plan.
After you have suffered for a little while, the God of grace who has called you (to His everlasting presence) through Jesus the Anointed will restore you, support you, strengthen you, and ground you. For all power belongs to God, now and forever. Amen
1 Peter 5: 10-11 (The Voice)
Master Creator, thank you for guiding me through the fog and offering comfort as I learn a new path. Amen
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