Foggy Mornings

Over the course of our lives we develop many habits that we don’t cognitively think about, we just do. Like the way we get dressed, or maybe the morning routines of breakfast and reading. Somedays we might get out of routine but ultimately, over the course of our days, we manage to maintain a system that is entirely rooted in what we have been doing for days, weeks, months, or even years. I have heard people say it takes so many days to develop a habit and so many days to break it. I am convinced that it definitely takes fewer days to create a habit, than it does to break it, but that’s from my own experience. Today I share with you a simple story of loyalty, but I suggest that even loyalty and commitment are in some ways habits of our character.  

I drive to work the same way pretty much every morning. Stopping at the school to open our study area, say hello to some students and as the bell rings for their day to start, my retreat to the office begins. I grab my stuff, walk to my car, and drive down the road. The same road every day, for the last several months. I have traveled this road countless number of times. Day after day I pass the same gas station, I sit at the same red light, and the drive become numbness. To some extent I believe I could do this with my eyes clothes. Today though, something was different.

It was a change in the norm and my eyes caught it all. I meandered around the corner as I head into town and I didn’t see anything. The fog had settled in this low lying town and covered me like a blanket. Slowing down to proceed with caution I could make out only the silhouettes of the trees arching over the road and the explosions of light from the street lamps caught in what seemed to be clouds on earth. You know, the kind of fog and haze that makes them appear bright and dim at the same time. I slowed down even more and noticed a unique change of pace.

There was a man standing on the corner, leaned up against the street light and waiting. The smoke from his cigarette seemed to match the shade of the fog as he took a puff and stared down the street. A bag in hand and his eyes fixed, I found myself glancing that direction. The street ran perpendicular to mine and down it, streetlights became beacons, guiding cars along the path. My car now crawling, I look back to see a faint man walking. As my car rolls forward, the fog consumes everything I leave behind, I look back to see a man greet his friend and their day begins.

Today, this morning was very different. The fog lifted the closer I came to my office and a thought came to mind. What a friendship to have, that two men would meet, on a day that’s brisk, foggy, and damp to walk down the road and talk. I cannot make a claim to their friendship or their purpose for waking up so early. I simply was caught in the wonder of the dedication to wait, because it’s just what they do. They meet, I am sure they talk, they walk, and I’m sure at some point their path comes to an end for the day. They don’t worry, they do not fret. Loyalty in this moment means more because they both know, tomorrow they will meet again, no matter what!

For these men, little did they know, the lesson their friendship could teach. We hear it all the time, wait on God, and we should. Today, I was reminded that God too waits on us. Our busyness and routine often break the silence of what it looks like to wait. Yet, God still waits for our movement to him and for him. Through the fog, the rain, the seasons and shadows, God waits. Always faithful, never busy, and He never wants to just lay in bed and be lazy. He is there, first thing in the morning.

I parked the car, got my things, and entered my office. Thankful for the joy of the Lord this morning because He who has withstood time, stands with me!
                                                                        Psalms 84:1-2