A Different Perspective

This morning dawned dark, foggy and spooky. I have to use the work spooky because tomorrow is Halloween, but it really did feel spooky. I drove down Florissant Road and was struck by how difficult it was to see the road, even with the streetlights. And then I saw them, dark shapes shuffling across the pavement. These spectral anomalies were barely visible but as I got closer I saw that they were merely teenagers, risking their lives to get to school. Brave souls!

The highway was shrouded with thick clouds and felt otherworldly. With the sun absent, I found it difficult to gather my bearings. From high above the slick streets I saw strange, UFO shaped lights blaring through the milky film. Were we getting visitors from another planet? No, they are the street lights that hover over Highway 270. Normally these lights go unnoticed. I mean to say, I appreciate how they illuminate the street but never actually look at the lights themselves. But with the fog, they were startling. They peered through the mist with bright rays that reached out like tendrils. I admit it took a great deal of willpower to turn my eyes back to the road so I didn't crash my car.

This morning I had a completely different perspective on my way to work. The darkness combined with thick fog transformed my morning commute. It reminded me that often my perspective changes when hardship descends on my life. If a simple change in lighting can change the way I see things, how much more potent is emotional darkness?

When we are despairing, everything feels heavier. Simple joys are beyond our comprehension and pain is like thick, heavy fog. It distorts our vision and we can't see things we once thought were true. Happiness and contentment are like the blue sky and white fluffy clouds, gone. Even though we know they exist, they don't register.

In these moments of clarity I remember that God is like the streetlights. He is always there. But I see him differently through the lens of pain. I'm content when he is lighting the way and rarely look up to say "thanks!" But when things go sour, that light gets a little spooky. It is alien, even threatening. I am not ashamed to say it even makes me angry. I shake my fists at the sky and say, "What the heck? My life is supposed to be smooth sailing. I don't like this fog!"

But have you ever risen on a blue sky sunny morning after a long period of rain? What goes through your mind? I always think, "How beautiful! How lovely! I am so glad to see the sun again." And my heart lifts with joy. It seems trite to say we can't enjoy the sun without a little rain. But I find it rings true. Dark, foggy mornings don't last forever. The sun burns them away post haste. And this morning I thought to myself, "Emotional darkness is the same. When the time is right, God will burn it away. I just have to trust him."

Also, the perspective I glean while moving through pain is priceless. I find that I learn the most important lessons when I walk through seasons of pain and hardship. I carry this knowledge with me to use for future hardship. And when I encounter other souls who are suffering, I can share these lessons as well. But most importantly, I find that I encounter the great love of Jesus most intimately when I am suffering. This is a mystery to me but something I feel in my body so potently it cannot be denied, even if people think I'm strange.

I am 1.5 days into sacrificing my favorite foods to see if it will help my body feel better. I am hopeful. I see a little speck of light in the darkness. One step at a time, one moment to the next, I am trusting the sun is still out there and one day I will experience white fluffy clouds again. The good news is, God is with me. I sense him in ways I can't explain. And I am glad.