Faith in the fog

Bible reading:  Psalm 119:105  Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.

There’s beauty in autumn morning fog.  Not so much when I’m driving, perhaps, but if I’m walking in it, there is a surrounding freshness to the air, a glimpse of colour on the nearby tree, cool grey seeming to suddenly materialize into the precision of a droplet on a long blade of grass.

Look down, I can see my feet.  Look up, I can see a step or two ahead.  The further ahead I try to look, the more my surroundings resemble a wet on wet watercolour painting blending and shifting. Uncertain.

In some of these autumn mornings, just before the fog burns off, there are a few moments when the fog around glows gold.  It’s a bit harder to see ahead, but the moment makes me stop in wonder.  Then, trails of mist dissipate and we’re into the day. We  can see more clearly, and further ahead.

But in those moments when all I can see is a few steps ahead, I think about faith in the fog.

Faith is one of those things that’s hard to walk in when things aren’t certain.   I’ve thought sometimes that faith is easier when things are clearly good or clearly difficult; it’s the nebulous times that are harder to say, “Ok God, I can see You working in this moment, in my life’. It’s the waiting for test results, the holding out for a definite answer, the silent space in a conversation when truth and love have been spoken and the reaction is still coming.

This week’s scripture is a short one in the middle of a really long psalm.   The whole psalm talks about ways we see God’s word and follow, but this verse hits me every time.  God doesn’t say “I have lit up the entire way for you from start to finish” or “I’m going to keep you totally in the dark and alone”.   God’s presence is promised, and so is guidance, but it’s often not as clear as we’d like.

It might just be enough for the next step. Might be enough to see our toes inching forward. But even that limited vision of what comes next is a gift for our faith. In that moment, the biggest thanks that we can offer GOd is to say, ‘Ok, that’s enough for now, thanks’. The way we go further into God’s plans is to take the inching forward step with what we can see of God’s plan and trust for the next step until the fog burns off.

Psalm 119:105 says God’s word is a lamp to our feet and a light to our path.   Step by step.  Moment by moment.  Breathing in the immediate presence of God and watching as, through no effort of our own, the way forward becomes clear enough for the next step.

We don’t travel through fog by standing still.   We don’t travel in faith by saying “I’m just going to stand here and do nothing, believe nothing”.  We go, humbly looking as far as God guides, praying for the next step, knowing that for this moment, that will be enough until the fog clears.

Here’s a prayer for this week.   I hope it helps when you are in foggy faith times.

Dear God, I can’t always see your plan for me, but You’ve given me the next step, even if it’s a tiny one.   Give me the courage to take it, and to walk with You through certain and uncertain times.  Thank you for always being with me. Amen

May you see the beauty in your next steps, and my God guide you always.

Peace in Christ,

Susan

Photo and content © Susan Kerr 2024.   May not be reproduced or circulated without permission of the author.

Orange

 Matthew 25:31-45 NIV – The Sheep and the Goats – “When the – Bible Gateway

A bit of a different note this week. A tougher note.

 We were talking in our Exploring Faith group this week about asking where God is when tragic things happen.   It was a good, honest discussion, and we didn’t come up with all the answers.   I don’t think we could. We know that God is always present and knows the deepest pain of our hearts.   Jesus cried at the graveside of someone He loved. God knows sorrow and pain.  In Matthew 25 we read about Christ being hungry, thirsty and in prison and often people didn’t see him there.

But why doesn’t God stop this kind of hurt?  And sometimes, in tragedies that are caused by human pride and need to control and gain power, why then does God not stop US?

We remember one such tragedy on September 30.   I’d invite you to join with me in a hard part of our journey of faith.

On September 30, we remember the legacy of residential schools in Canada by wearing orange shirts. It helps us remember the children who passed away, the survivors, the intergenerational trauma that was caused—and so much more.  The Presbyterian Church in Canada participated in the establishment and running of some of these schools.   For the past number of years, the church has sought to engage in reconciliation and living out an apology made to Canada’s Indigenous and First Nations.  But there’s more to it than that.   More than the schools.  There is a cultural absolutely necessary mindset shift that I as a white woman need to make every day.

Because there is a difference between an apology and reconciliation. Or, as I’m learning, reconciliaction.

I don’t often quote the church doctrine committee of the church, but today is different.   

While apologies from the federal government and confessional statements from the churches are important in recognizing the wrongs of the past, issuing such statements does not stop ongoing injustice directed at Indigenous peoples. (Repudiating the Doctrine of Discovery in Practice-Life and Mission Agency—Justice Ministries Report 2021, p. 419-21,38)

 From advocating for investigation into federal investments that build profit unjustly from Indigenous resources, to the returning of artefacts stolen, to supporting the establishment of Indigenous-led healing centres to seek some kind of healing from residential school experience and intergenerational trauma, we know that the path to forgiving and dealing with tragedy is step by step.

When we hear Christ say “I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink”, Jesus is not just talking about physical needs.   The whole passage in Matthew 25 is about recognizing God in the deepest hurts and needs another person has, and not just seeing it, but listening to what they need, and doing something about it.   People didn’t get to be with Christ by saying, ‘Oh, you’re hungry, sorry about that ‘and not feeding someone who needed it.

So let’s not just wear orange shirts for a day.   If something is wrong, let’s listen for what the other needs, and do something in humility and love and compassion, not out of a need to protect our power.  Let’s listen in humility to calls for healing, even if those stories are hard to hear.  God is there, in the middle of tragedy and hurt.  Are we listening?  Do we hear? Do we repent?

This isn’t the full answer.  It’s humbly offered as a place to step in.

If you or someone you know has been affected by this tragedy or other events, please feel free to contact us and we will help you find help in our community. I am so sorry that you are going through this.

Here is a prayer written by Indigenous leaders in our church:

Creator, Healing God
On this National Day of Truth and Reconciliation
We lament all the childhoods and lives lost through the Residential School system; all the families broken and the communities wounded.
We pray for healing for all those harmed by the schools.
As a church we have repented for our role in running Residential Schools;
But we know repentance is only the beginning
Continue guiding your church to live out our confession and work for reconciliation.
Continue moving us to act, supporting justice for Indigenous people
Help your church hear how to walk the path of truth and reconciliation
And help all of us, always, to celebrate the hope and joy of every child.
Amen

Blessings and peace for the journey,

Susan