I drove in fog like this once– it’s called tule fog and it can enshroud the I-5 freeway running all the way up central California. Anderson’s Pea Soup has nothing on this stuff!! At the time I was 22 or 23, making the trek north from Los Angeles to visit my Honey in the Bay Area. Well I found a big truck and rode in its wake, just barely making out the taillights. I figured if there was something terrible up ahead, the driver would either see it and stop in time, or somehow protect me by absorbing the resulting crash. Talk about white knuckling it– It was the first & only time I made that trip without a potty break ;-).
Growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area and now living in the Pacific Northwest, I am very familiar with fog– the coolness, the quiet, the lingering layer in the morning and the blanket that rolls in at night. Lately I’ve become more intimately aware of its properties while walking a couple of mornings a week with my friend in the o-dark hours. Ever notice how much more difficult it is to breathe in fog? Akin to the weight of humidity during a mid-west summer, there is something distinctly different about maintaining air support during a brisk walk in the fog. My joints can feel it too!! Granted, I have a bum knee, (feel free to read my “Walking Miracle” posts for more on this subject) but even so… It’s not that you get especially chilled while walking in the fog; there’s just an overall damp feeling that’s hard to shake.
Then there are the many movies that use images of fog to frighten the audience. What is the mystery of this simple vapor? (Once my husband-to-be and I went to a drive-in movie of a film called simply, “The Fog”. To be honest I really couldn’t tell you how scary that one was– the car windows fogged up on the inside–but that’s another story :-)) Still, why does the very mention of fog invoke everything from a sense of foreboding to out and out fear? I think it speaks to our greatest weakness as human beings: We want to see what’s coming… We want to be in control.
One of the biggest struggles in any faith walk is having complete trust in the unknown. Though our head knowledge may be pointing to the goodness of God, our heart might have trouble believing our suffering will end! So out of our own human weakness, when faced with the unknown, we worry or we strive, we pity or we deny, we withdraw or we rebel, but to sit in fog and trust? … that’s tough.
Facing another transitional period in my life, and witnessing close friends currently struggling with grief and confusion, it’s no surprise to me that I’ve been pondering all of this recently. Now I don’t have any pat answers, and I’m not completely sure where I’m going with all of this yet. But then again, isn’t that just like fog?