It was the end of the month. We had waited for weeks for a paycheck to arrive from a client, and
it had finally arrived, after banking hours, on the 29th. So early on the 30th, I got up to make the
drive to town in order to be at the bank when the doors opened so I could then hurry to each of
the places where I needed to pay bills. It was a foggy morning; the kind of fog that forces you to
drive 35 in a 60 mph speed zone. I was unhappy. I’m not a morning person naturally, and being
up, dressed and on the road for the purpose of paying bills at the last minute made it seem
even more depressing. As I drove, I kept thinking about how much I hated living paycheck to
paycheck, hated my husband working freelance for people who never paid the invoice promptly, hated scrimping and pinching pennies to provide just the necessities for the family, with never any luxuries.
And then it happened. The sun started to rise, and although it couldn’t quite break through the
fog right in front of me, off in the distance there was a beautiful silver lining around the lowest
bank of clouds. I was struck by the amazing promise of the future. My life seemed full of
struggles just then, but I knew that it wouldn’t be that way forever. We are reminded over and
over in God’s word that this life we’re living now is not permanent. I was letting myself become
caught up in the negativity of this world instead of anticipation of eternity.
When I realized that, it became easier to face the struggles and even to identify the beauty
within them. Yes, I was driving through a fog, which was slowing me down, but wrapped in the
fog, there was a quiet peace, a silence and stillness that I hadn’t appreciated when I was driving
through it with a grumbling heart. Yes, I still had to pay those bills, but they were a sign that I
had a home in which to live with my family. Yes, it was an hour of the morning in which I much
prefer to be snuggled in bed, but had I not drug myself out of the warm blankets, I would have
missed the unusual sunrise, and the reminder that the struggles of today are as that fog; a
vapor that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away. I don’t know what tomorrow
might bring, but I know who holds tomorrow in His hand.
Lord, show us over and over again your silver lining in the midst of what seems so hard to bear. Even in our suffering you have a purpose. You use our suffering for your glory. So, Lord, help us to rejoice even in our suffering so that we too may glorify you in the midst of the fog. Amen.