When I was in 7th grade, I cut across a field that was several acres in size to get to school. There was a subdivision there by the next year, but for that year it was a fence-less, open field that significantly shortened the walk to school.
It was foggy one morning. As I walked towards the school and the very thick fog blocked out all buildings so I had no frame of reference and couldn’t be sure which way I was going, it wasn’t long before I was uncertain if I was really going straight or if I’d wandered from the direction I needed to go.
I didn’t have a small target I needed to hit to get to school; the large, empty field bordered the large, grassy sports field behind the school, so I could be off by quite a ways and be fine. But I still got quite anxious as time in the dense whiteness seemed to stretch too long and I was sure I’d been walking far longer and was just going in circles, never to find the school until the fog cleared. And then I hit the school grass and all was well again.
Too often, it seems, I find myself stumbling through a fog, uncertain if I am taking my life where it is meant to be or simply to a good place. Since Iâ€™m single, my job and location of living decisions donâ€™t affect a spouse or family, so the choices I make are all up to me. This is good and likely simplifies a lot of things â€“ Iâ€™m not complaining â€“ but it also means I have no one elseâ€™s opinion and perspective to point out positives and negatives of a choice I may not be seeing. It also means I travel this life alone, and sometimes that is just downright scary.
And so I wander through the fog of mortality, making a bit of a left turn here and touch of a right turn there, praying that Iâ€™m going ultimately in the direction that will be best for me, that will get me to my goals here on earth and in the eternities. Sometimes I hit a grassy field that confirms Iâ€™ve been going in the right direction â€“ things work out well and feel right. Sometimes it seems Iâ€™m in the fog far longer than I expected and I start to worry and second-guess myself and wonder if what I thought were impressions of the Spirit guiding me were really my own misguided hopes. Most of the time, I just keep going and pray harder when the fog seems particularly thick, and sometimes I hang on to the hands of friendship from family and friends when they might see a bit further than me or when theyâ€™ve walked through that particular field before.