We recently spent a few days in Northern Minnesota. Our headquarters for the trip was in Duluth and our hotel was a block away from Lake Superior. In fact, if the room had been on the other side of the hall we would have been able to look out our window and see the Lake from our room. Well, sort of.

We arrived in Duluth on a Friday afternoon. As we crossed the bridge from Wisconsin to Minnesota, we noticed that the Lake had white caps — not what we had hoped to see. A storm was brewing. We found our hotel, checked in, and found some supper at Perkins where we tried to look at the Lake. Sadly, the Lake was shrouded in fog.

On Saturday, we visited the harbor area where there are three lighthouses, a fog horn, and a museum. We enjoyed the museum and walked around outside in Canal Park. It was a cool, foggy, fall day. Later, we drove along the water’s edge and saw what we could see. There were times when the fog lifted a bit or thinned out some, but for the most part the view was obscured.

Sunday was a different day. We awakened to a few clouds but most of the fog was gone. We were headed north to the beautiful Split Rock Lighthouse, and farther still to Grand Marais. It was beautiful — perfect, in fact. The sun was shining, the water was smooth, and some autumn leaves were beginning to appear. We enjoyed familiar sights and new ones. At the end of the day we were tired; however, we felt rested and blessed to have enjoyed the beauty of God’s creation.

                                                                                

I’ve thought a lot about that weekend. We had piled a huge number of expectations onto those few days. They were our vacation for this past year and we had planned to visit a couple of different museums — one was closed for the season. I had intended to sit in the sun and enjoy the sea gulls, the sights, and the sounds of the water. Instead, we found a 7 mile long, fog covered beach, about a million sea gulls (okay, that might be an exaggeration), and we saw some familiar sites from a different perspective. We had planned to head to the far northern Minnesota shore of Lake Superior — and we are thankful that we did. But, with so many expectations denied due to the fog, the vacation started with me feeling a little let down.

In fact, I even prayed that the fog would lift on Saturday and we would be able to do what we had planned. But God had a different plan. And that made me ask myself, how many times have God’s plans been different from the ones I had?

“Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.” Proverbs 19:21, NIV

My plan — a dozen kids; God’s plan — three amazing boys (Thank you, God — I really didn’t need a dozen!) My plan — to be doctor; God’s plan — to be a teacher and preacher instead. My plan — to be a country singer; God’s plan — to sing in worship and praise.

Obviously my plans are flawed; His are better.

The weekend in Minnesota reminded me that sometimes we think we are seeing clearly, but really we are not. The trouble with fog is that it obscures what we see — and sometimes, it obscures what we know. As we drove along the Lake’s edge, we knew there was water there. At times, however, the fog was so incredibly thick that we couldn’t see the water. Were we to have gone simply based on what we could see at that moment, we could have gotten ourselves into trouble.

I think spiritual fog can cause the same sort of disorientation, confusion, and yes… potential trouble.

The real trouble with fog is that we think we can “make out” what is around us. We use the fog lights so the light doesn’t reflect back into our eyes, we watch the fog line as we drive, we note those land marks that appear vaguely before us and we think we know where we are. But sometimes, it just isn’t so.

I’ve driven to work several mornings in very thick fog, and as a result, I lose my place in the journey. I’ve driven the road often enough that I’m confident I know what comes next in the road — what lies around the next bend. Fog messes with my head and there are times when I feel lost.

I’ve experienced foggy days in my spirit, in my relationship with God too.

On some of these days He is leading and guiding and speaking and I am not following, not listening. As a result, I experience spiritual fog. These days could also be the days when I am in a hurry and He is not. When I rush ahead of Him, I experience spiritual fog. It’s almost as though I’ve outpaced the light from the torch lighting my way.

Experience proves that if I wait — the fog lifts. It’s true in Duluth and it’s true in my spirit. I need to let Him guide, I need to listen to Him — I need to wait for Him to lift the fog. I need to live for His purpose, I need to pursue it and sometimes, I need to wait for it.