So, I'm driving the kids to school the other morning.
The way to school is a through a national park highway (part of it seen in this photo here), and early on some mornings it is very foggy, like smoke soup. It's a winding road, no street lights or signs; just woods, mountains, and occasional deer. This particular morning it's a "fog storm," as my son calls it. Very whitish-gray and almost zero visibility in some areas, but I haven't noticed because I'm used to these occasions and keep my focus on the double-yellow line in the center of the road.
Then from the backseat, my daughter announces, "I can't see a thing!" and I look up and realize, dude. It's pretty scary when you look up at the fog. The road is invisible, has no edges, I can't see jack, I can't even see the space in front of the car. But my focus has been on the center line which guides me just fine until the turnoff exit toward school.
And right in that moment I realized: this morning was a microcosm for my life. I can't see a thing, man, and if I look around I will start to panic that I may drive off a cliff. But if I stay focused on trusting God (my center line), I don't even notice the scary stuff and I can drive well in an otherwise precarious situation.
