The few mornings ago I was feeling overwhelmed with life as I was driving home when suddenly I drove into this white dense fog. The white fog reminded me of a heavy white snow that blankets everything and gives you that snuggled in feeling. I suddenly imagined the fog in the timbered mountain hills where a modest cabin stands. There, through two of the cabin’s simple grid windows a warm glow was coming from the stone surround fireplace inside. I imagined a warm meal scenting the air and a worn wood rocking chair sitting leg length away from the fire and my journal resting on it waiting for me to scribble down what the Lord would speak to me about.
I drove up my real drive way and came inside and sat and looked outside with appreciation. All the surrounding hills and trees and neighbors were either blanked out or muted of their hardness. The fog quieted my soul. The condensation, the fog had created, dropped off the roof making the metronome inside of me slow to its rhythm. I thanked God for the fog. It was just what I needed to remind me that God is the one who mutes the hardness of life. He quiets my soul, mind and heart.
My "Refuge" had created a temporary refuge for me that morning.
God can take the natural to speak to us in the spiritual.
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