Driving up there , however, was a whole 'nutha story. As close to the beginnings of some heinous horror movie as I found myself face to face with the thickest layer of fog I had ever encountered. Parts were so thick (especially closer to the cabin we were to stay at) that I could barely see past a car's length in front of me.
Later that night, after having semi-recovered from my treacherous journey through pea soup and windy, wooded roads, one of our pastors began to share about what it means to be a believer in this city of "brotherly" love. He joked about how he, a boy from the 'hood, felt safer amongst drug dealers and robbers than he did in the midst of trees and wilderness, fog and bears. And as he shared, I reflected back on the drive up to this mountain cabin. I remembered the fear and confusion, the helplessness and feelings of being completely lost that I'd felt only hours ago. I realized these were (are) the same feelings that ache within when I am apart from my God:
- Without His direction, I am lost.
- Without the Cross to beckon me home, I am stuck in the fog of my own confusion and doubt, unable to His nail-pierced hand reaching out for mine.
- When I allow myself to focus on me, I lose Him in the thickness of my sins.
1 comment:
so glad that you got to go to the newcomers' retreat. hope you were blessed and you'd made connections with your new church family. so thankful to hear and see that God has surely led you there.
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