Discovering & Living Your Purpose

I placed my lawn chair under the shade at my son’s soccer game. Beside me sat a complete stranger, also waiting for team photos to be done and the game to begin. In minutes we engaged in conversation, as women are wont to do, and quickly discovered our sons play on the same team.

Almost immediately she shared her story with me, having not yet introduced ourselves  to each other. She told me about her son’s condition, her previous marriage to an atheist husband, her current marriage to an agnostic, their fights, their struggles and much more.

Suddenly she stopped, looking thoughtfully at me, then continued, “Now you know my story, stranger…. Why am I telling you all this?”

I smiled, and asked, “Maybe because everyone else does too?”

“You’re a magnet.” She reached out her hand and introduced herself, “Hi, I’m Sue.”

I laughed. She was right. I’m a magnet. It happens all the time.

“Too bad you’re not an author,” she said, “you could write about all the stories people tell you!”

“I am…. And I do,” I said with a laugh. Little did she realize how many stories I tell or write about, that have been told to me by perfect strangers.

We continued chatting a while before her 12-yr-old daughter joined us. “Hi! I’m Dana!”

“Hi Dana, nice to meet you!”

Within minutes I knew Dana’s dreams, aspirations, what she likes, and what she doesn’t.  She sang me a song–her voice rich and strong beyond her years–and told me she is planning to compete on a reality TV show. After the song she told me that she isn’t sure she wants a boyfriend and marriage. And then she paused, looked at me, and said, “Why am I telling you this? You’re a stranger!”

Her mom looked at her, “She’s a magnet. Everyone tells her stuff.”

Before we parted ways, Sue asked how to find my writing, so I offered her a business card with my websites and blog address. (And the next time I saw Sue, knowing she would come read the blog, I gave her a ‘heads up’ that I was writing about our meeting.)

 

Connecting with people at a heart level, listening to their stories, and offering encouragement or ideas, is what I do best and love most. It brings me to life in a way that nothing else ever has.  It took me years to see it and to believe I have something to offer, but when I ‘got it’, I was unleashed.

I would not have thought I could love something more than public speaking—because I love that a lot—but the thrill of one-on-one coaching and mentoring sessions are overtaking my love for speaking.

One client, with whom I’ve been meeting for several months, has transformed so completely, I am amazed. Each time we meet, her eyes are a bit brighter and her confidence a little stronger. She is a deep thinker, asks lots of questions—to which I often respond with questions—and goes to the ‘hard places’.  She is a delight!

Each client brings joy into my life as we face fears, build confidence, and establish a sense of direction and purpose. There’s nothing in the world like it! I’m functioning in my gifting, doing what I was created for.

For you, it may be something different. It may be in being a home maker, or a secretary, maybe a farmer or a pilot. Whatever it is, we are all created with unique gifts, talents, and abilities. Discovering and functioning within them makes life more fulfilling, more complete.

I remember a time, some years ago before I discovered my love for speaking, coaching and writing, when I did many things, and did them well, but I always felt I had nothing to offer. Discovering my inner passion changed that. And it all happened through building a relationship with God.

As I got close to the heart of God, and allowed Him to heal me, I discovered that my purpose is closely linked to my passion.  Our destiny is to know God intimately, and out of that ‘knowing’, we discover who we are and whose we are. And when we know God and are secure in our identity, we find deeper purpose in all that we do.

When we see that God believes in us, it gives us courage to believe in His purposes for us,  and empowers us to do and be all that He designed and created us for.

What patterns do you see in your life that could help you find your purpose and passion? Are there things that you love to do, that people frequently say you do well? Do you feel a passion, a desire to do something that feels just beyond your reach?

What if it isn’t beyond reach? What if the key to unlocking this potential in you, lies in the very heart of God and knowing Him intimately is the answer to a fulfilling life?

Spiritual Abuse Part 7_Scrubbing the Outside of the Cup

It was Easter weekend, 1988. Several months had passed since I accepted Jesus as my Saviour and returned to the Mennonite culture. I was reasonably well-adjusted, and grounded in my faith. My short hair that had been carefully tucked into my bonnet at first, was now long enough that it no longer looked cut. I finally fit in, visually.

One thing troubled me. My ‘prodigal brother’. Wil and I had been best friends as far back as I could recall. Sure, we had normal sibling spats, and family dysfunction had left its scars, but he was still my best friend. Come hell or high water, he was there.

The irony was that he, not a believer himself, had called me, at the height of my rebellion just before I ran off to USA to join my ex-con boyfriend, to challenge my lifestyle choices. His evangelism was a bit unconventional, if only because he didn’t believe.

Wil ranted about the path I was on, the terrible choices I was making, then he cut to the chase. “Trudy, if you keep on this path, you’re going to go to hell,” he said with absolute sincerity.

“Whoa! Wait a second! Me? I’m going to hell? You’re one to talk! It’s not like you’re so righteous! You’re going to hell as much as I am!” I couldn’t believe he had played the ‘go to hell’ card!

“Trudy, I know that! I know I’m going to hell. I think about that! But I don’t want you to go there!” he spoke with sincerity. There was a short pause before we simultaneously erupted in laughter. Such absurdity! We were running parallel, headed for the same end, and he was preaching!

After I accepted Jesus, Wil was my mission field. I didn’t preach or scold or nag. I just tried be his friend. And, I might have dropped a hint or two… or three.

That Easter weekend we had a great time together as a family and I specially connected with Wil. In the evening we had church meetings to attend so I hinted for him to join me. He politely declined but offered to drive me to church, to give us a chance to connect away from family. Our family has one collective volume and it’s LOUD! Time together apart from the noise would be good.

As we drove to church I asked him some personal questions. About life. About faith. About future. As we neared the church I asked again, “Will you come to church with me tonight?”

“Nah. It’s not for me. I’m going to hang out with Ike and Isaac. ”

“What harm can it do? You can handle them! We can hang out after and you’ll get to see some of your friends from the past.”

“You’re right. I can handle it,” he said with a laugh and with that it was done. Wil joined me for church.

The speaker, Paul E. from Pennsylvania, was a dynamic ‘hell fire and brimstone’ evangelist-type speaker. When he spoke you could almost feel the flames licking at your feet, if you didn’t have your relationship with God in order. Or your relationship with the church, for that matter. Whether hell would have claimed you or not, his sermons had a way warming the toes and making you double-check.

That is not to criticize the man. Though I’m not a fan of preaching that gives hell fire the spotlight—since we are to share the Good News of the Gospel–he spoke biblical truth and didn’t come across as a manipulator or fear-mongerer. A bit more talking of Jesus as the answer, rather than hell as the outcome would have gone a long way. We need to know that Jesus is the answer, that He is more than enough to carry the weight of our sin, and that He has already taken on Himself that punishment.

I don’t remember all of Paul’s message, but whatever it was, he made heaven as real and beautiful as he had made hell real and terrifying in other sermons. The message was grace. It was hope. It was life. If hell even came into the equation, I was so confident in my salvation that it left no lasting impression.

At the end of the service, Paul gave the standard invitation. Wil walked out the back door. We didn’t speak to each other, but unbeknownst to me, someone pursued him asking him to come back, to repent and accept Jesus.

When I saw him walk back in, my heart did a somersault. One look in his eyes, and I knew, my brother was back. That night my brother washed the inside of his cup, figuratively speaking. He became a free man, sold out to Jesus Christ.

As a group of youth, we gathered in the church yard after service and sang into the night, hymns like, ‘When Peace Like a River’ and ‘When the Roll is Called up Yonder’ and ‘Til we Meet’. As we did, I felt a powerful presence. It would be years before I understood that presence.

If that focus had lasted, all would have been well. But some people were bound, bent and determined to scrub the outside of the cup clean, their way, their time. No taking time to disciple, no tending to the heart, or mentoring into relationship with Jesus. Through that religious control, my brother’s new commitment to Christ was tested later that evening.

(To be continued….)

Note: Shared with my brother’s permission. 

© Trudy Metzger 2012

Go to First Post In This Series: http://trudymetzger.com/2012/05/22/spiritual-abuse-introduction/

Spiritual Abuse Part 6_Following God

Running to Someone, and moving into something, rather than running from something is the first step to freedom from  any kind of abuse.

When Tim and I left the Mennonite culture, it was because we felt God’s call into ministry, not because we were completely stripped. Yes, there was more healing to come, but there was no resentment, bitterness, or Spiritual Abuse hanging over our departure.

We attended Koinonia Christian Fellowship for four years, where Pastor Steve and Beth Fleming were instrumental in bringing further healing into my life. The teaching spoke to the pain and, more than that, it stirred in me a new passion for that ‘inner calling’ to ministry, giving me purpose in my pain.

I observed how Pastor Steve interacted with his church family and watched how he dealt with people in difficult situations, and I couldn’t help but notice how gently Beth led people. (They probably had no idea how closely I watched!) I saw mentoring, accountability, care and compassion. Sure, they had their imperfections, everyone does, but it stood out to me that Pastor Steve talked about them in his preaching. He wasn’t trying to present himself as flawless. He allowed us to see who he really is. And that gave me permission to be real, to be human, to struggle and to invite God into that struggle.

When we ‘transplanted’ to Wilmot Centre Missionary Church at the end of the four years there, it was in obedience to what we sensed as God’s call, not necessarily because logic supported it. Driving further to a country church, in the wrong direction—away from the rest of our world—made no logical sense but when God speaks it’s best to go. Not so much because He is chasing with a big stick and will smack us if we don’t, but because I don’t want to miss what He has for me. His leading is always about bringing His good plan and good purpose in my life. So we followed the call.

That was six years ago. Our leaders have walked me through deeper healing and, what is more, they have encouraged and empowered me as a woman of God. They have launched me, as a team of elders and pastors into the very ministry that one of the leader’s wives spoke over me when we watched Lisa Bevere. They have called me to accountability, and have done so gently, and have given me permission to be human, imperfect and still they bless me.

My current pastors and elders know me better—the good, the bad and the ugly—than any church leaders have known me ‘heretofore’. (Love that word!)What is more, in spite of that they believe in me. They see God’s call on my life and they don’t demand perfect performance to make me acceptable. They know I repent quickly when I sin. They know injustice makes me ‘rage on the inside’. They know that when I see someone struggle, I will abandon my comfort zone to be there, to walk them through it.

Why do I tell you all of this, in stark contrast with some of my previous posts? Because this is how leadership should look. Never should we feel oppressed, put down, or inwardly crushed, fearful or destroyed by leaders. A true leader leaves a healing touch in his or her wake, not a broken heart or destroyed life. That is abuse, not leadership.

I also tell you all of this because it shows that healing happened in every church I was in—including the one where the worst abuse happened. I found Jesus in the good. The enemy is always out to kill, steal and destroy. We have to choose our focus—Jesus—and choose our healing—forgiveness. If our environment is abusive, it is up to us to find one that is not. We were created for relationship with God and one another, not abuse or violence or any form of oppression.

We get to choose whom we will serve, whether God or religion, but as for me and for my house, we will serve the One True God and Him only. We will run to Him and run passionately into the plan He has for us. It is a good plan!

© Trudy Metzger 2012

Go to First Post In This Series: http://trudymetzger.com/2012/05/22/spiritual-abuse-introduction/

Spiritual Abuse: Introduction

Tears literally poured down her face as she spoke the words, sheer desperation in her voice, yet with hope and confidence in her words. “Trudy, they want me to repent and come back to believing what they believe. But I can’t do it. I just can’t do it now that I know Jesus.” These were the words spoken by a young woman–meaning my age or younger–who spent her entire life going to church, practicing a religion. After one encounter with Jesus, she saw that her congregation didn’t teach Jesus, but taught religion.

She went on to tell me how her family felt she had shamed them by leaving. They felt rejected even though she repeatedly told them she cared and loved them. It wasn’t good enough. If she refused to return to her congregation, she was not welcome in the family. She was shunned.

The church pursued her as well, telling her she would go go hell if she did not repent and reinstate her membership. By all external appearances she still held to every rule, every standard. What had changed was her belief system. She traded religion for relationship and she could not keep silent about that relationship with Jesus. She spoke with respect and honour even though she was deeply wounded by her family and the church.

Eyes pleading, she asked, “Trudy, what do I do? It hurts so bad!”

It is difficult to look into that depth of pain and know there is nothing that can be done to resolve the circumstances. The circumstances may never be made right. In that moment the only thing I can offer is to bring Jesus to the pain, and the pain to Jesus. The only thing I can do is help people in this situation understand how God sees them, how He loves them, how He grieves with them, and help them see in the Bible, that God is not like that!

I have heard these testimonies of pain frequently. The above story is not a one-time event, but a blend of repeated cries from women and men, deeply wounded by, typically well-meaning, religious leaders. Usually the leaders—be it Bishops, Priests, Elders, Ministers, Preachers, Pastors or other leaders—are only trying to ‘protect the flock’ from what they perceive to be deception or sin. That never makes it right. Spiritual abuse is wrong in every way, regardless of the intent of the heart, because it completely violates the heart of God and misrepresents who God is!

God called leaders to ‘shepherd the flock’–using biblical terminology, 1 Peter 5:1-3–not to control through manipulation and abuse. Never did the right to control enter into the equation in God’s leadership guide and it is not to be part of New Testament church life. Never can it or should it be accepted or blessed as such. We’ll touch on that again in another post.

Does this mean a church should be a ‘free for all’ and ‘do as you please’ with no one to hold the church accountable? By no means! But that’s a topic for another day. Today is merely an introduction to a very complex and multifaceted problem.

John 3:16-17         16. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.     17. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through

The topic of spiritual abuse has been on my heart for weeks, but how does one go about tackling it? I’m not certain… but I’m about to find out. I want to spend a few blog posts looking at some of the ways that often well-meaning humans misrepresent the heart of God, especially within the context of spiritual abuse either in churches or Christian organizations.  Iwill not attack on them—that would serve no purpose whatsoever—but rather looking honestly at the pain, and then hearing what God says in His Word, for the purpose of inner healing. In the process we will explore the impact abuse has on victims because of lies they believe about God and themselves, and find God’s truth to break down the lies.

We will look at what we do know about God, based on stories in the Bible and especially drawing from the life of Christ, and explore the mystery of His heart and His character. Since He is Emmanuel, ‘God among us’, it seems most appropriate to watch God and learn the right way from Him. The best way to become like someone is to study the individual as closely as possible on a personal level. Jesus is ‘God in the flesh’ and therefore the best example and role model.

When we know someone personally and someone else comes along and tells the untruth about them, we are much more likely to take a step back and say, “No… I know that person. That can’t be right.” So to know Jesus, and know Him intimately, equips us to stand against the damage of spiritual abuse. Ultimately, spiritual abuse is rooted in misconceptions about God. If we know God intimately and personally, we have nothing to fear from Him or people around us—“…there is no fear in love…”—but when we don’t know Him we can be tossed about by the control and misrepresentation of men and women who profess Christ, but live out of selfish ambition.

Knowing God is the key to standing against spiritual abuse, manipulation and any form of spiritual control. God placed us here with the freedom—or God-given right—to choose our path, our faith, our allegiance. It is wrong that any human would try to take away what God has given us as a gift, and attempt to control and manipulate the mind through fear. God did not. Why should they?

That does not, however, remove God’s Word as Truth and authority. It doesn’t mean we should disrespect leadership. That is also not biblical.

In this series, as always, but especially here, I welcome feedback, suggestions, questions, thoughts challenges and anything you would like to share. I don’t have all the answers, but God’s Word does, so that is where I will go for answers. My one request is that we speak kindly and respectfully when we disagree, and that we don’t do any personal attacks. This can be a very sensitive topic and stir up a lot of anger in those who feel violated. The anger is not surprising or wrong, but what we do with it is critical. If you have suffered spiritual abuse, please don’t name the individuals responsible—I can’t approve that for my blog. If you need to vent or get something personal off your chest, or if you need prayer, email me at info(insert ‘at symbol’)faithgirlsunleashed.com and I will respond and will pray for you. Alternatively, if you would like contact information for a professional counsellor, I will be happy to do my research and try to connect you with someone in your area. (Canada and USA only) I am a certified life coach, speaker and trainer, not a counsellor.

As much as possible, I will post at least once a day—on a good day twice. If you share a story or a question, I may refer to it in my blog but will not share your name, location or any details that would expose you or make you vulnerable. If you do not wish for me to refer to it, please explicitly say so.

I look forward to finding God’s light, in a dark and painful journey. There is hope in every dark experience.

© Trudy Metzger 2012

Tossing Pebbles in the Water

The number of ripples caused by one small stone tossed in water, no one will ever know. And the ripples caused by one small deed are never fully known, though, from time to time, we get a little glimpse of the impact. We don’t do kind deeds for the thrill of hearing the impact, however, when a testimony comes back, it serves to encourage us in our journey.

 

The tall ‘guest’ at our church breakfast, seated herself across the table from me. We introduced ourselves and were soon engaged in warm conversation. She looked familiar, but I wasn’t able to place her.  I meet people everywhere, all the time but usually I’m able to make the connection. This time I couldn’t.

We chatted about work and the normal things women like to talk about. She talked about her family, becoming a Grandma and the wonderful things that go with it. My oldest, at that time, was about fourteen years old—a very different phase of life.

At one point she paused. “You look very familiar,” she said. “Have we met before?”

I told her I had been wondering the same thing. Suddenly it connected, when she said something about her home church. She caught the moment of revelation and asked where we had met.

“It’s a story I’d rather share in private,” I replied.

She approached me after breakfast and we removed ourselves from the rest of the women. I was a bit nervous, not knowing for sure what the connection would do to her heart, but knowing I needed to tell her.

“We met briefly at a baptism at your church. It is the only time that we met before today. It was your son’s fiancée’s baptisms, shortly before they broke the engagement.”

A look of shock crossed her face as the rest of the story registered. “Are you…. Are you the woman who exposed the affair?” Tears filled her eyes.

I nodded.

In an instant I was in the arms of this virtual stranger. “Thank you! Thank you!”

She talked of the disappointment and the grief at the initial discovery that the young woman, who was about to become her daughter-in-law, had been caught in the affair and remained unrepentant. Her spirits lifted as she shared how her son, after he had recovered from the betrayal, found a lovely young woman, married her and went into ministry. We chatted a few moments and then parted ways.

In the years that followed exposing that affair, I struggled from time to time. Had I done the right thing? Should I have waited and watched it play out? The man in the affair was in a position of ministry leadership and many trusting people were at risk of betrayal. As it was, many were betrayed. Still, even knowing that, I questioned at times whether I should have been silent.

That day, when I met the mom and she wept as she thanked me for saving her son from a tragic marriage, I knew I had done the right thing.

I have since faced similar situations in my life, where I’ve had to make tough decisions. At times since then I have been tempted to turn a blind eye, to ignore the call to a difficult task, but each time, when I recall the woman, with tears in her eyes, and hear her saying, ‘thank you’, I choose the hard road.

I will never know the ripple effects…  Do they ever really end? Do they disturb things they should not–maybe distort a photo of a reflection, disrupting someone I don’t even know is out there? Do the ripples make any difference at all?

The outcome, at the end of the day, is not my responsibility. I toss the pebbles in the water and leave the ripples to go where God takes them.

 

© Trudy Metzger 2012

God Doesn’t Play the Daisy Game

“He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me…. “

As a little girl, when I had a crush on a boy, I would play the daisy game. With each ‘he loves me’ the anticipation grew. But, as I neared the end, if it looked like it was going to end on ‘he loves me not’ I would throw the faulty daisy to the ground and start all over with a new one. Seems to me, as I recall it, that sometimes I would pull two petals at a time, if I grew impatient, just to get to the end faster. However, if it seemed to be in my favour,  I would go back to removing petals one at a time just to hear ‘he loves me’ in the ebd. Having heard what I wanted to hear–that I am loved–I would skip away happily.

It occurred to me recently that I used to play the daisy game with God.  Unfortunately when  I landed on ‘He loves me not’ I actually believed it. It wasn’t as simple as moving on until I ended with ‘He loves me’. I thought of my salvation as a fragile petal that could be plucked at will when something wasn’t right in my life. If I sinned or was angry, for example, a petal would fall and the echo in my heart would proclaim a resounding ‘He loves me not’. I didn’t have the courage to grab the next petal, clutch it in my hand and say “He loves me! Yes He does!” Instead I sank in defeat and as I did all the petals began to scream “He loves me not!” The moment I repented or had a happy-mood-swing, I felt loveable and claimed the next ‘he loves me’ petal, but they were fewer and farther in between with the passing of time.

My expectation at age 12, when I first ‘responded’ at Revival Meetings, following a hell fire and brimstone message, was that God would make me good. I thought He would miraculously make me perpetually joyful, obedient and victorious. As days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and months turned to years, I discovered that the miracle cure didn’t work. Terrified of hell I kept trying but with no one to disciple me in my faith or mentor me, I became discouraged and by age fifteen I took the ‘God daisy’ and stomped on it. The hope of being loved or loveable was gone.

I left home a month before I turned sixteen and spent the next two years ripping bouquets of  daisies out of God’s hand and shredding the petals. Hurt, angry and desperately searching for love, I ran as far from God as I could, grabbing broken petals as I ran and begging for just one that would tell me I was loved.

A month after my eighteenth birthday I had a profound revelation through the story of Jesus and the woman caught in adultery. As He spoke the words “neither do I condemn you” something happened in my spirit. In that instant I realized that every petal on every daisy I ripped from His hand and shredded said “I love you”.

God doesn’t play the daisy game. The moment we receive Him as our Lord and Saviour we are saved. Our salvation does not rise and fall, based on our humanity, nor our perfection or the lack of it.

The petals in His daisy bouquet simply say: “He loves me. He loves me lots!”

© Trudy Metzger 2012

God Doesn’t Play the Daisy Game

“He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me…. “

As a little girl, when I had a crush on a boy, I would play the daisy game. With each ‘he loves me’ the anticipation grew. But, as I neared the end, if it looked like it was going to end on ‘he loves me not’ I would throw the faulty daisy to the ground and start all over with a new one. Seems to me, as I recall it, that sometimes I would pull two petals at a time, if I grew impatient, just to get to the end faster. However, if it seemed to be in my favour,  I would go back to removing petals one at a time just to hear ‘he loves me’. Having heard what I wanted to hear, that I am loved, I would skip away happily.

It occurred to me recently that I used to play the daisy game with God.  Unfortunately when  I landed on ‘He loves me not’ I actually believed it. It wasn’t as simple as moving on until I ended with ‘He loves me’. I thought of my salvation as a fragile petal that could be plucked at will when something wasn’t right in my life. If I sinned or was angry, for example, a petal would fall and the echo in my heart would proclaim a resounding ‘He loves me not’. I didn’t have the courage to grab the next petal, clutch it in my hand and say “He loves me! Yes He does!” Instead I sank in defeat and as I did all the petals began to scream “He loves me not!” The moment I repented or had a happy-mood-swing, I felt loveable and claimed the next ‘he loves me’ petal, but they were fewer and farther in between with the passing of time.

My expectation at age 12, when I first ‘responded’ at Revival Meetings, following a hell fire and brimstone message, was that God would make me good. I thought He would miraculously make me perpetually joyful, obedient and victorious. As days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and months turned to years, I discovered that the miracle cure didn’t work. Terrified of hell I would keep trying but with no one to disciple me in my faith or mentor me, I became discouraged and by age fifteen I took the daisy and stomped on it. The hope of being loveable was gone.

I left home a month before I turned sixteen and spent the next two years ripping bouquets of  daisies out of God’s hand and shredding the petals. Hurt, angry and desperately searching for love, I ran as far from God as I could, grabbing broken petals as I ran and begging for just one that would tell me I was loved.

A month after my eighteenth birthday I had a profound revelation through the story of Jesus and the woman caught in adultery. As He spoke the words “neither do I condemn you” something happened in my spirit. In that instant I realized that every petal on every daisy I ripped from His hand and shredded said “I love you”.

God doesn’t play the daisy game. The moment we receive Him as our Lord and Saviour we are saved. Our salvation does not rise and fall, based on our humanity, nor our perfection or the lack of it.

The petals in His daisy bouquet simply say: “He loves me. He loves me lots!”

Welcome Clarity! Good-bye Fog!

It wasn’t until I stumbled out of the fog that I realized how tired I was of squinting to find my way. It had been too long, far too long, since I had seen clearly.

***

There is something about a lack of direction–a lack of clarity and truth– that drains the life and passion right out of the soul, suffocating the spirit. In so many ways life has the ability to slowly lead us into a fog–whether it’s unhealthy manipulative relationships, too many commitments or just the mundane reality of day-to-day living.

It’s as though we wander in and out of the fog as we journey and each time we emerge we are shocked that we didn’t see it develop.  If we stop and evaluate life experience, we realize that even ‘fog’ serves a purpose: It is a reminder to stay focused, be alert and keep a firm grasp on truth–much the way a rope is used in a snow storm–so that nothing and no one can lead us away from our destiny.

***

As the sunshine of truth casts her rays on the fog, something beautiful happens. The refreshing wonder of light shining over the lifting fog inspires new courage, new hope and a new day!