It was foggy again this past Thursday morning so I tossed my camera into my bag as I left to drive to work. There weren't many others on the road at the time, which is one of the reasons I love mornings best. I passed this one favorite barn and it stood gracefully, dressed in all that misty beauty, but I kept driving. That wasn't the photo. I wasn't sure what *was*, but that wasn't it. Further along, as I rounded a curve I remembered a particular spot, and so I planned to take a photo there to see how the fog played with the clearing between some trees. As I approached the place and stopped (safely), I looked up and saw this.
One of the reasons I love fog is that it is such a great metaphor for faith. The fog limits my view and shrouds many of the very real and tangible elements in a space, but they are, nonetheless, truly there. I just can't perceive them well with my eyes. I suppose if I'd never seen those hidden objects or creatures before, I might assume they didn't exist at all. But they would be no less real either way.
Thursday morning, much of the scene was obscured, but standing in the center of my clearing was this deer, and a perfect metaphor himself.
Faith is not blind. Faith is informed, and acknowledges the limitations of our vision on any given day. I know there are things I can't see. This doesn't trouble me, but it makes me look harder, and listen better.
Insight works like this for me, too. When I have those sudden moments of clarity, I "see" something and understand. It was always knowable, always there, but I did not always perceive or understand it well. We, all of us, see only imperfectly, but we pray that one day, we will see more clearly, and understand more fully.
I needed a detour the other day. I needed one of my own choosing. Not the ones being imposed on us everywhere throughout Ann Arbor and the whole Midwest as our roads are being torn up and reconfigured, but a legitimate detour of heart and mind. So I took the road less travelled. At least, I took a road less travelled by me.
I discovered some pretty neat places, including the one here in this picture. And I gave my mind a chance to stretch its legs and walk about freely. However, the path here, I didn't take. I was certainly curious about it, but a sign informed me that I should not. At least I think the sign was meant for me. And it mentioned electronic surveillance. Well, gee, you don't have to get all "French Connection" on me. Some signs are worth heeding, and so I kept my distance. Mostly. But the path sure got me thinking.
So many paths. So many detours. So many choices. And so many signs.
May all our paths lead us to good places today. May all our detours bring us safely to our destination. May all the important signs be noticed and heeded.
I'm a wife, a mother of grown children, and work full time as a nurse practitioner with cancer patients. My work is gratifying often, and difficult and sad sometimes, too.
I'm average and extraordinary, just as you are. I've experienced profound failures, significant disappointments, had a few successes, and been the recipient of a lot of mercy. I try to keep perspective on what's important in life, and not get too upset about the rest.
My Catholic faith is important to me, and while I'm no theologian, it's my intention that my faith inform my outlook and values, and inspire personal virtue. I love that God desires to reveal himself to us. I love the small hints, the little bread crumbs, the multiple clues, and the pieces of the puzzle that dot the created world and point to the hand of the Creator. I love that He uses beauty, art, science, all his creatures and the invisible realm of our heart and emotions to communicate His goodness to us. And I love that the fullness of his love can be seen in the sacrifice of his son, Jesus, which makes me free.