The Hazy Future

“Are any of us strong enough to give God a hand, or smart enough to give him advice?” (Psalm 22: 2-3 The Message)

            A red ball glowed between the far away trees. Water droplets glimmered on nearby blades of grass. A large black and yellow bee maneuvered through spires of purple and orange blooms that pointed skyward.

            Echoing chirps sounded around the lake. Crickets hummed. A duck formed a perfect V shaped wake on the still water. I loved the beauty of the morning. 

            But minutes later when I glanced up from my writing, a different view greeted me. Beside my patio, I clearly saw the grass and flowers. But haze swept across the lake, water plants, and trees. Faint images replaced distinct ones. Trees blended together into a blurry mass of green. 

            In the foggy state, I experienced a peaceful contentment. A different kind of beauty. A type of wonder and expectation of what was ahead. A time to enjoy the present. 

            After being confined by a virus for too long, my mind conjured a list of what if’s about my upcoming surgeries. While in bed, I wondered if the procedures would be delayed. My mind scheduled people to drive me and stay with me after the surgeries. I didn’t want to inconvenience anyone too much. Worry planning added to my already poor sleep. 

            Then two friends offered advice. When I worried about putting people out, the first one said, “Stop it. You have done that for me.”

            I remembered. I was glad to help her and others when they needed it. I also had counseled friends to accept help gratefully. 

            As I complained about being stuck in the house, the second friend said, “God is telling you to be still.” 

            Both of them gave me good advice and made me think. When I picked up my Bible, it opened to Psalm 46:10. “Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations. I will be exalted in the earth.” NIV

            That same verse is on a plaque on my wall given to me by my son’s family. What should have been a reminder during my sickness.  

            As the sun rose, the lake and trees reappeared in a beautiful display. The brief haze reminded me that only God sees the future clearly. My complex, worry planning won’t alter His plan. Even though I don’t know what lies ahead, I can learn to be content and trust Him with my future and all the details. 

Loving Father, thank you for wise friends. Thank you for using your creation to teach me. Amen