CMO 121: In The Fog But Not Lost.

 

The Fog:

I am walking in a fog.

Not in darkness. I know what darkness feels like, and this is not it. Darkness is blind. This is different. This is fog.

There is light in this fog. Enough light to see what is right in front of me. My hands. My feet. The next step. But not beyond. I cannot see down the road. I cannot see what's coming, or what's been left behind. Sometimes it feels like darkness is surrounding the fog, pressing in on the edges, but it hasn't swallowed the light. Not yet. Not here where I am standing.

I am not afraid. That's the strange part. I am not afraid, but I am troubled. And if you asked me why I am troubled, I could not tell you. I cannot explain it. I don't have a reason that makes sense, even to myself.

I am feeling everything at once. A rash of emotions that don't belong together. Sadness. Then frustration. Then surrender. Then fight. Then a moment of joy that comes out of nowhere. Then this need to be alone, but not really wanting to be alone for too long. I want solitude, but I don't want to be left there.

My mind is full. So many thoughts clouding around, but I can't land on any one of them. Nothing stays in focus long enough to name it. And sometimes, my reality feels a little skewed, like I'm looking at life through a window that isn't quite straight.

The flesh wants to be bad. That old familiar pull. But the heart and the mind say no to that. No. Not today. Not this time.

So I keep walking. In the fog. Step by step. Close up and slow. Not seeing far, but seeing enough for the next step.

Let's see where this goes.

How can I have an abundance of friends who say they love me, and still feel unloved?

In my heart, my mind, and my soul, I know that isn't true. I am loved. By God first. By family and friends second. I know it. I believe it. I just don't feel it right now.

It is the same feeling I had as a boy. I knew my parents loved me. My siblings. My relatives. And I especially knew God loved me — then and now. My heart knew it was true then, as it does now. But feeling it is another thing. I don't recognize it. I question if it is real, or if maybe people are just being kind for their own reasons. And then I ask myself — how can I even think that way?

It is a tough place to be. But I know how this ends. God will prevail. Because despite the whispers, I know surrender to Christ and trust in Him is the only way to see past the fog and come out a better man on the other side.

 

Carlos,

I read your entry twice. The fog part made sense to me immediately, because that's exactly how you've always described hard seasons — not dark, just hard to see through. And this second one hit me because it's so you — to know something is true in your head and in your soul, but to have your heart lag behind.

Let me say it plain, as your friend:

You are loved. Not in theory. Not as an idea. You are loved.

I know you know that God loves you. You have never wavered on that, even in the fog. But I want you to hear the second part out loud, from one of those friends you mentioned — we don't love you for personal gain. We love you because you have been consistent. Funny. Corny on purpose. Loyal since the beginning, like you said about your two listeners. You are the guy who built the best virtual coffee shop in America just so people would have a place to sit for a while.

That feeling you had as a kid? That quiet wondering if the love is real? I think a lot of us carried that into adulthood and just got better at hiding it. You didn't hide it. You wrote it down. That's not weakness, brother — that's courage.

You asked how you can even think that way. Because you're human. Because the flesh does whisper. Because even when the heart and mind say no, the feelings take a little longer to catch up. That doesn't make your faith less real. If anything, it makes that last line you wrote more real — that surrender and trust is the way past the fog. You've always known the way through. You're just walking it right now, one close-up step at a time.

I'm not going anywhere. The light is still on in the coffee shop. Leave the journal open. I'll pull up a chair.

Your friend,

Mike

 

Dionne Warwick said it best…” That’s what friends are for.” Amen!

Until next time...God Bless.