For the last several mornings, our island has been shrouded in fog that formed overnight. It is a rather strange effect, having the light of the rising sun gradually displace the darkness of night, yet still leaving our visibility significantly impaired. Those things that we expect to see with clarity are now obscured, either partially or completely, but not in blackness. Walking along a tree-lined dirt road with no other people or vehicles in sight, the effect is calming and enjoyable. Yet at the same time, when the sound of a foghorn pierces the quiet, it becomes obvious that my ability to enjoy the weather conditions is directly tied to my current activity.
Commercial boats seldom have the option of waiting for the fog to lift. The cargo vessels that have crossed the oceans and now need to unload their wares in Savannah can’t sit out in the open water until the visibility improves. Nor will the ferry boats that our island residents depend on to get them to and from the mainland stay tied up at the dock until the sun burns off the fog. The activities of the day for these vessels does not include taking a slow walk down an uncrowded thoroughfare. Instead, they must continue forward with as much speed as safely possible, along waterways that can get congested. What is calming and enjoyable for me is something that instead sets the captains and their crew on edge, requiring heightened focus and a level of dependence upon navigational instruments that they wouldn’t otherwise require.
It is perhaps ironic that a meteorological event that impedes vision can bring clarity to the fact that the same general conditions can have very different implications for different people. For me, it was the sound of the foghorn in the distance that reminded me that someone else saw danger while I was seeing beauty and serenity. And I should know better, because I have spent time on a small boat in fog so thick that you couldn’t see ten feet in front of you, leaving you with no option than to just stay as still as possible and hope that other boats were captained by people with a similar dose of common sense. However, being removed from the dangers inherent to the situation caused me to spend more time focusing on the beauty of it, which isn’t necessarily bad, but it represents only one perspective.
Certainly, fog can be a metaphor for many conditions that we are facing today – conditions that may be beautiful and enjoyable to some while inducing anxiety in others. There will always be people facing different circumstances than we are facing, which causes them to view things differently. They may be able to enjoy things better, or fear them more, or simply see them in a way that is neither bettor nor worse, but simply different. The one mistake that we can easily make at that time is to assume that others see things the same way that we do.
So, today, if you find yourself in a place where you can enjoy the fog, I pray that you do just that. However, if you find yourself threatened by the conditions created by the fog, I pray that prudence, equipment and experience will safely guide you through it until the fog lifts.
Peace and blessings – Pastor Aaron