I like fog.
Maybe because I grew up on the Pacific coast, is why. Rain assaults you, but fog wraps around like a protective layer… it comforts me… it calms me… it reactivates my hair product.
I also like to photograph fog. As you might imagine, some shots aren’t too exciting. But several mornings ago I got a good one.
From a second story window I saw the fog lacing thru the trees, hovering over the grass. I grabbed my camera and headed down to the back deck. The neighbor’s porch light caught my eye and later, after I downloaded to my computer, I saw the full picture. It’s kind of half and half… fog below, blue sky above. Love pictures like that. Kind of a two for one.
There is a type of fog, however, which I do not like.
It’s the kind that mysteriously settles on my brain overnight. A fog which only lets in the endless to-do list, concerns for loved ones and difficult circumstances… all of which run on repeat cycle as I lay in the dark.
Maybe it’s the aging process, the stress load or the late night snack (which I’m trying not to do anymore), but more often than not my morning starts that way.
I force myself to thank God for a new day. I force my feet to hit the floor. I don’t really feel like doing either one. Then I head for the coffee pot.
I know that doesn’t sound very nice. But I am supremely grateful for a God who loves my often ungrateful self.
After some quiet, some reading, some prayer… all sloshed together with good coffee, the foggy and light parts in my head begin to focus. This morning process is summed up in these words from The Message, “Let petitions and praises (or foggy parts and light parts, maybe?) shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life”. Philippians 4:6-7.
Shape your worries into prayers – I love that.
I don’t think God is all that concerned over how I might feel in the morning, or even if I’m less than civil in those first moments.
I think he’s patiently waiting for me to sit before him, say hello and share words from my heart that he can work with… to bring in the light.