There are nights when light gets swallowed
by the darkness. Those are the nights when ogres
lurk in deep shadows beneath the trees, and the
silence seems to be a monstrous whispering threat.
Tonight was not one of those nights.
Tonight was a lightly foggy night.
A fine mist hung in the air, and the street lights
of Salem glowed like the mystical halo around the
head of the infant Savior, as portrayed in Renaissance
art.
Every one of those fine droplets of
mist refracted the surrounding light, and appeared
to create a blanket of light around me as I walked
in the fog. Somehow, there was more light, but I
could not see as well. Fog creates this strange
contradiction.
More light is not better for being
able to see more clearly in the fog. Nothing is
more dangerous than turning on your brights while
driving on a foggy night. Suddenly before you, a
wall of light blocks your vision, and more light
creates less visibility.
Yet, on this night, the blanket of
light surrounding me had a comfortable feel. A dome
of light rested over the city, as I looked across
the water at the fuzzy outlines of the church steeples
and courthouse buildings. And as I admired the beauty
of this fuzzy Impressionistic cityscape, I spoke
with God.
I had to acknowledge that though there
are certain things concerning God of which I am
certain (I am certain of His Son, and of the cross,
and of the resurrection, of His goodness, and of
His love), there are other things of which I am
not always so sure (such as the suffering of innocents,
the exact nature of the heaven I believe in, and
what God looks like). I spoke with God, and shared
that I was more comfortable with not knowing all
the answers than I have ever been before.
There in the blanketing light of the
foggy night I experienced the lesson which I prayed
out loud: The blanketing presence of God will not
always come with clear vision, sometimes it will
come in mystery. It is not always necessary to understand
everything. It is sometimes sufficient to believe
and bask in the loving goodness of GodŐs light.
I realize that it is I who lack clarity
of vision, and not God Who lacks distinction of
character. And I realize that God has chosen to
define Himself in terms easily understood in the
Bible. But I also realize that not every question
I have considered has been answered.
Tonight, I am comfortable with the
blanketing light of a warm fuzzy fog, and I am comfortable
with mysteries which I do not understand. Tonight
I basked in the warm light of a sometimes foggy
God.
