Moses prayed and the Red Sea rolled back. Joshua and his men marched around the city of Jericho and the walls came tumbling down. Israelites, marching through the desert, scooped manna from the ground six days a week with enough on Friday to last through the Sabbath. I really thought God would lift the fog and Pacific Coastal Airlines, the planes. Not so.
That weekend I'd been the speaker at a Christian women's retreat and we'd enjoyed a time of fun, fellowship and fulfilment. There was also a pall West Coast fog hanging around. "It will be gone by morning," I told myself. It had to be.
I'd changed all my travel plans to get there in the first place and I was convinced that the soggy grey blanket would have dissipated by the time I was to leave. At least that's what I told myself. In the meantime, and between my musings, I offered prayer and praise for blue skies. They did come but definitely not where I was. What was to have been a 20- minute flight ended up as a 30- hour wait, most of it in a tiny airport terminal.
But, there were some rich blessings that came out of that experience: I'd been longing for some time to rest, quiet space to do some recreational reading and the opportunity to have a break from my daily routine. I received all three. To boot, I met a nurse who also was coming to our community to present a seminar for medical professionals. We chatted, shared a cab to the bus depot and found out we shared a common faith. I genuinely thank God for answered prayer.
"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways "
Fog comes and goes, His goodness endures!
