Wednesday, March 28, 2007

The Fog Slowly Rises



Today I snapped several mental photographs. I wish I had my camera, but they were some of those moments that would only appear less grand on paper. As I drove down various streets this morning there was a veil of fog everywhere. As I peaked on the top of a hill I the fog rising up from among the trees. You could see the trees through the thin veil of fog, but you could see the deep fog surrounding and in the trees. I praised God.

Later I was crossing a bridge over water - I am so grateful I looked out for a brief moment. The fog appeared to be flowing with the stream, all in sepia tone as the light was just reaching the little canyon. It was breathtaking. It reminded me of God. As I was awe-struck by these two sights I had seen within the hour. It reminded me of God and his glory filling the temple and going out over the entire earth. I marveled as I praised. God is so good. And it was all just a springboard for remembering God's attributes.

I wanted to sleep in this morning, but glory to God I did not! I would have missed seeing something beautiful. I wonder how many times we miss these marvel moments in the day rushing here and there. Take time going places. Look for sights previously unseen on your daily journey. And give God praise. One day all of this will fade away, burnt up at the end of the world. I want to enjoy it while it lasts. Right now we only see reflections of God, glimpses of his beauty. One day, we will see him face to face, praise be unto Him!, when the fog finally disappears.

original image source

2 comments:

lauren said...

I love taking mental snapshots on my morning commute. There are certain places that I always notice on my way to class: the field with wild purple flowers, the cottage with the Jersey cows, the goats in the meadow. I have such a great back road commute.

I love night time even more. The other night, I drove home into the sunset, the trees dark silhouettes against the orange-purple sky. It was breathtaking.

"One day all of this will fade away, burnt up at the end of the world. I want to enjoy it while it lasts."

But beauty will be restored. How amazing that will be!

Sophie said...

Amen! And I heartily look forward to that day. I cannot even begin to fathom what true, pure, unaltered beauty looks like, for everything beautiful to us now is in a broken, twisted world.

I imagine it quite like (and I could be wrong) C.S. Lewis surmised:
"And yet they're not like [the world we knew]," said Lucy. "They're different. They have more colors on them and they look further away than I remembered and they're more ... more ... oh, I don't know ..." "More like the real thing," said the Lord Digory softly. ... "The Eagle is right," said the Lord Digory. "Listen, Peter. When Aslan said you could never go back to Narnia, he meant the Narnia you were thinking of. But that was not the real Narnia. That had a beginning and an end. It was only a shadow or a copy of the real Narnia..." The difference between the old Narnia and the new Narnia was like that. The new one was a deeper country: every rock and flower and blade of grass looked as if it meant more. I can't describe it any better than that: if you ever get there you will know what I mean.

Life in Shadowlands has its beauty, not doubt. I only meant to say that I did want to appreciate it while it was around (after all there is no use shunning what is currently beautiful because you know something better exists); when I finally behold real beauty, though, all that is beautiful to me now will vastly fade into gray (so I guess). I am looking forward to going "further up and further in."