Seeing Through the Soup

I have a clear childhood memory of coming home from somewhere with my mom and my brother, and the dark night outside of the car was a messy, soupy fog. The road we were on ran right along the French Broad River that flows through Asheville, and we had to cross a bridge to get to the other side of the river so we could get home. The bridge was the most direct course; there were other ways through town, but it would take another 20 or 30 minutes if we went that way. 

But the streetlights just didn't pierce the soupy fog, it was so thick. I kept my young eyes peeled, trying to help mom see, but it was impossible to see more than ten feet in any direction. As mom drove, looking for the bridge, she'd turn around, and drive back along the road, trying to see. Then she'd turn around again. We must have gone back and forth seven or eight times. Each time, we kept passing this ridiculous-looking vividly painted ceramic chicken that was about the size of our car and set not far off the road. My brother and I thought it was interesting, because it was the only thing we could see. Everything else was dark shadows.

My mom finally gave up, turned for town, and we drove the extra 30 minutes around through town until we got home.

The next day, we had an errand in the same area where we had to drive the road along the French Broad. Heading along that road in the clear sunshine-filled day, we drove past that ridiculous chicken, which was situated right at the turn onto the bridge that crossed the river.

My brother and I laughed at the chicken; I'm pretty sure my mom laughed out of sheer frustration. We'd been soooo close, and we'd missed it over and over and over again, because we couldn't see the signs.

That chicken stayed at that spot for years, and I drove by it often when I got older. Every time, it reminded me of that night and how night-and-fog blind we were, and how, if we'd just turned at the chicken, we would have been home in less than a minute instead of taking the long route home.

Obviously, it wasn't for lack of trying; we tried to see the signs. We strained our eyes until they were tired. I remember my mom praying out loud: "Help me to see, Lord." What happens when God keeps us in the dark for a little longer? Maybe we'll never know. Maybe the Lord wanted to keep us from something along that path that we avoided by going the long way around. Maybe He just wanted us to learn to lean on Him completely when the darkness surrounded us. Maybe He just wanted us to laugh at the funny chicken.

I finished up Acts today with the dramatic story of Paul's journey to Rome. Fought by harsh winds the whole way because they were sailing in late September/early October, which was at the tail end of shipping season, they were blown off course off the southern coast of Crete, through the Adriatic sea, and then ran aground off the shore of Malta, which is an island south of Sicily.

There were a lot of points that stuck out to me, but this one in particular: Paul's voyage was embattled the. entire. way. to. the. shipwreck. From the launch point all the way to Malta. The winds were against them the whole time. They kept close to shore as much as they could, and made frequent landings to keep from being driven out to sea. Finally, at the port of Fair Havens on the southern shore of Crete, Paul told the ship's crew and the Roman commander Julius that they should winter there, because going any further would be disastrous. But Fair Havens wasn't a fair winter haven, apparently; they wanted to sail to Phoenix, which was a little further west on Crete, so they weighed anchor.

At first, it seemed like smooth sailing, but it wasn't long at all before a "nor-easter" blew in with hurricane force and forced them south and west and out to sea, far from land. Acts 27:20 says: "When neither sun nor stars appeared for many days and the storm continued raging, we finally gave up all hope of being saved."

They couldn't see. At all. They were blind, in the dark, and there was no hope of light. I wonder if they passed a chicken somewhere along the way that squawked: "Turn here!" Maybe the "chicken" was the ridiculous notion of Paul's that they winter in Fair Havens, but... no, that would have been crazy.

Paul got a nice little "I told you so" moment in the Adriatic Sea. An angel appeared to him and explained about the upcoming shipwreck, and gave him instructions about how everyone would survive it, all 276 people aboard the ship. So he told them: "You should have taken my advice not to sail from Crete." Told you so, but you wouldn't listen.

Here's my favorite part: "So keep up your courage, men, for I have faith in God that it will happen just as He told me."

How often do we doubt the leading of the Holy Spirit? God points His finger, He taps out the direction, He speaks His Word to our hearts, but because we are so swayed by what we can see (fog-soup, anyone?), we push it away. "Surely He didn't mean that; just my imagination."

Yes, test the spirits; that's Biblical. It's essential that we don't drum up false narratives and sell it out as true. That's deception. But also, we must have faith that God speaks to us. We are not blind when our hearts are open and our spiritual eyes are seeing.

Ephesians 1:17-19a: "I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe."

With all this in mind, as I prayed for our nation and revival, I prayed for some specifics that God led me toward.

Specifically, this weekend, there will three significant happenings taking place in the nation's capital: 1.) the SCOTUS nomination will be announced this weekend, 2.) the Washington, D.C. Prayer March, and 3.) and Sean Feucht will be holding a worship event in Washington, D.C. as well.

I was led to pray, as Paul told the sailors: for courage and faith. That courage will be a direct by-product of faith. Especially in this setting: the nation's capital where many important decisions are being made in real time.

The streets of D.C. are pot-hole ridden and rough, and in need to repaving. I prayed for spiritual pavement to already be laid in place to allow His will to happen. The Lord prepares the way, smooths the path for His will to be done.

I prayed for a ground-swell of light to rise up in the spiritual darkness in the city this weekend. That the Spirit will move with power, and that the fog will lift so that our spiritual eyes can see the battles taking place and we can fiercely respond.

In the all-powerful name of Jesus, who has already beaten death and hell and all the forces it holds. Amen.