Finding God Through the Fog

I know that not all of you who read my words are believers in God, or Jesus.  I am sure that my words for those of you who aren't may seem shallow or like I am grasping at straws, looking for something bigger that really isn't there.  If you don't believe, I can't say that I understand your logic or your reasons.  Your disbelief is as foreign to me as if you were speaking another language.  I am not judging, I just don't understand it. 

No one's journey through life is an easy one.  My journey is obviously no exception to that as I have shared.   God has always been a very real part of my life during my journey.  In good times and in the bad.  He has always been there.  I have never doubted His existance or questioned His goodness.  I have only questioned His love for me.  Not because I doubt His ability to love, but because I have felt so un-lovable.  His love though is very real.  He has shown it to me over and over again.

When I was 3 years old I was laying in bed with my Dad.  I asked him who the man was standing at the foot of his bed.  My father is visually impaired, but can see enough to see if someone is there or not.  He saw no one at the foot of the bed and so he asked me to describe this man.  I told him who I was seeing.  By my description my father said that it was Jesus standing there  watching over me at the foot of the bed.  This is the same age that I was when I accepted Christ.  He has continued watching over me.

Jumping ahead to this chapter of my life His guiding hand and loving, watchful eyes are becoming so apparant to me.  In my blog I wrote the other day where I was asking who to show my white flag of surrender to when I was done fighting I told God that I could no longer see his towers of strong refuge.  A cry of desperation sent out by tired broken heart.  God answers those who cry out to Him.  I found my answer in an un-likely place.  I found it in the broken-ness of a grieving mother.  I wrote about this yesterday, but I was shown so completely this morning that those words she wrote in which she told her son that she would fight   for him was my answer.  It was my answer to the cries I sent out in desperation.  Who do I show my surrender to?  God answered, I show it to Him, I surrender to Him and He will do my fighting when I can't.  Just like my friend who grieves, Christ grieves for us when we are lost and broken.  He will fight with us, He will be there even when I am surrounded by fog and can't see Him.

This morning God broke through the fog and He showed me His love.  He will guide me through this and use those around me to lead the way back to Him.