GCC Stories

I live about 7 miles outside of town and about 500 feet higher in elevation. When the sun was rising this morning, I could sit outside and look down on a thick bank of clouds across the prairie below. The sun and colors and thick clouds were absolutely beautiful. As I drove my boys down the hill to school, things changed. We drove into that thick blanket of clouds. It was dark. I could barely see the way in front of me.

Headlights would suddenly appear so close, as if someone just dropped a car onto the road in front of me. We were creeping slowly along, not sure what was in the next few feet in front of us. But the frost!! It was what I know as hoar frost … where it clings to everything … trees, grasses, barbed wire fences. It is absolutely breath-taking! When we got to school, we looked at the chain link fence around the playground. It was covered in frost that was sharp and pointy upon inspection. But it was soft and easily brushed away, with no effort at all.

When I drove back out of town, slowly climbing in elevation, the color changed. The light changed. The further I got from town, the more I could see the coming hope. The color in the clouds lightened. I could feel the sun trying so hard to break through. The clouds were still there. They were still thick. But the further I went from town, the more I could see there was hope of coming out of the clouds! And then as I rose higher, the fog was thin and wispy and the sun shining through it and the surrounding trees was so magnificent.

Again, at the end of the school day, I drove back down into the fog to pick up my oldest. It had warmed up significantly during the day. The frost was all gone. The fog was still thick. The beauty was gone. The dark remained. As I strolled across the playground to our usual meeting spot, I couldn’t find what I was looking for (my child). Everything was hazy almost. Normally I can stand on the opposite end of the playground and wait for William to see me. Not today. Today I had to search. I had to make my way through the dark until the thing I was looking for was almost on top of me. And again, we drove out of it into the clear space on the hillside. We sat outside and basked in the sun. And everyone who lives in town ... saw their whole day as grey and dark. Never saw the sun.

This all struck me in a couple different ways.

First, I was taken back to the concept of God being outside of time. He is on the mountain looking at all of the fog. It is clear and beautiful where He is. He sees the big picture … as we muddle our way in the dark and disorienting fog, trying to make it through. Seeking what we can’t find until it is almost on top of us. He sees it all and is above and beyond it all, and is the light as we continue on. The coming hope. The promise of being rescued from the dark.

Secondly, the frost. From a distance, it was one of the most beautiful things I have seen. Up close, it looks scary and threatening. But get closer, and it is easily swept away with a finger or a swift breath. Being in the midst of the fog of life, not being able to see very far ahead at what is coming or where to go … it’s scary … but can also be profoundly beautiful as we walk in step with Jesus. Being in the midst of something that looks scary or threatening … but knowing God is above and beyond it all and yet somehow in the midst of it at the same time … knowing He is fighting our battles for us and with us … that scary and threatening thing can be swept away in His power and by His name.

Thirdly, sometimes we get stuck. We only see the fog, the dark. We forget that it can be so different with not too much effort. Just drive up the hill. You will see the sun. But we focus on the dark, the fog, the hurt, the disappointment. Or we really just don’t know how different it can be. How would anyone know that my hillside was sunshine and beauty when all they could see was dark and cold? Unless I tell them, how will they know? Unless I invite them up the hill, why would they even think it could be different? Same with Jesus. How will people know, who are stuck in the dark and cold, what life could be like with Jesus…unless we share.