“Look at this fog!” I exclaimed to the children as we drove to school. “You know, starting in August we can count the days of fog and predict how much snow we will get this winter.” In response to this announcement I received incredulous stares.
A friend of mine from Ashe County used to keep tally of the foggy mornings in August by placing a small bean in a jar for light fogs and large one for heavy ones. As he started making his winter storm predictions he would take into account the number of beans in the jar. He had learned the signs from an elder woman who foretold the great snowstorm of 1960. The elder woman noticed Joe’s love of the woods and his ear for the old ways, so she showed him how the fog hangs and the sweetgrass twists before a harsh winter.
I’ve always been fascinated by mountain fogs. The way it wraps its tendrils around mountain peaks, flowing over the crests like water, thickening and heavy in the valleys before being whisked away by morning sun. When I was little I would go to Camp Cheerio near Stone Mountain. Just before sunrise I would venture out to a little gazebo overlooking the mountains and watch the morning fog roll over the hills, ebbing and flowing like the ocean tide. It was so elusive.
The fog reminded me of an ancient Celtic Christian phrase, “thin places.” It describes the veil that separates heaven and earth, a place where that veil can be temporarily lifted and you can glimpse the glory of God. Fog can also be a little unsettling sometimes, as it conceals the unknown. But as a people of faith we are called to embrace the unknown.
Both the Old and New Testaments have accounts of clouds shrouding the mystery of God’s presence. In the Exodus, the cloud of God’s presence protected the Israelites from the armies of Egypt at the red sea, and guided them (Ex. 13:21-22). A cloud on Mount Sinai represented God’s presence at the giving of the law to God’s people (Exodus 13:21-22; 14:19-25). A cloud descended at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting when God conversed with Moses (Ex. 33:9-10; Num. 11:25; 12:5). Such a cloud was the visible symbol of the presence of God among God’s people. Also appearing in Solomon’s Temple (1 Kings 8:10-11). In the New Testament a bright cloud hovered over Jesus, Peter, James and John and voice came from the cloud saying, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him!” (Matthew 17:1-8)
There are lots of little things in nature that remind us of God’s presence among us— a rainbow after a storm, a caterpillar’s transformation into a butterfly, the mustard seed, or the glow of candlelight. I hope this month as you experience the early morning fog, you’ll also be reminded of God’s presence around you.
God may seem elusive at times, beyond our understanding, beyond our control, and unpredictable. And yet, God is present—not to be controlled, grasped, manipulated or coerced—but rather worshipped. And through that worship we assured of God’s ever guiding, ever loving, and ever faithful presence. Rather than throwing our hands up in despair during those clouded times of our own life, those times when the answers seem slow to come, when understanding is dimmed and certainty as elusive as the morning fog, we look to the one upon which the cloud hovered— Jesus.
Jesus, God’s son “I love him, I am pleased with him. Listen to him!” And in the glory of the cloud, when we simply dwell in the presence of God’s mysterious nature and power, we listen to the voice of God’s Son, of God in the flesh, who will continue to provide guidance, promise, hope and salvation for those all those who take a moment to meet Him in the morning fog.
Blessings,
Pastor Nicole