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 I’m single, my job and location of living decisions don’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 – I’m not complaining – but it also means I have no one else’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 I’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 I’ve been going in the right direction – things work out well and feel right. Sometimes it seems I’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 they’ve walked through that particular field before.