Driving through pea soup

The past few mornings have been like driving through pea soup.

The fog is unbelievable, and today is the worst day of all. It's super thick out there!

Ever been in a dark mood, and walk outside to a sunshiney day, and get a little irritated because you wish it was overcast and drizzly to match your emotions?

This pea soup is my current state exactly.

Fog. Confusion.

I had to drive somewhere this morning at 5 a.m. and it was so thick outside with low clouds I almost had to pull over, just to breathe and fight off a panic attack. It was literally suffocating. And bright headlights just make it worse, illuminating how far reaching the fog spreads.

I made it home, collapsed in bed, and woke up a few hours later for work to...more fog.

And it's still in my spirit.

I'm getting real today. Because I had to drive through pea soup and I'm having to live through pea soup at the moment. And I know I'm not alone. Who else is struggling today? Having a morning of suffocating confusion, wishing you could just SEE and being helpless to change any of it?

I hate pea soup.

But pea soup has lessons to be learned.

Notice how bright headlights make the fog worse. When we shine a light on our troubles, our problems are illuminated. They spread. They grow and become more insurmountable. Thicker. Denser. More dangerous.

But when we get the lights on low and keep plodding on, we get through it safely.

I want that to be true for my personal bowl of pea soup today. I'm trusting Jesus that it is. My lights are dim, my gas tank is full and I'm inching forward. Somewhere out there is home. Somewhere through the fog is hope and clarity and peace and a warm bed to fight the chill.

Keep going, Friend. And keep the lights on low. And your eyes fixed on Jesus. He's guiding you through the fog. And me too.