A forest fire is burning along the Rocky Mountains. Smoke obscures the perfect silhouettes of jagged cliffs and snow-capped peaks. Haze hides from view other peaks normally visible from the trail near my house.
As I meandered along a nature path this morning, coffee cup in hand, I strained to pick out the majestic cliffs that usually accompany me. Many had been painted over. Blue and gray mixed in the Colorado sky to camouflage their existence. Yet, I don’t doubt that the mountains are still there along the elevated horizon. Wild roses, decomposing grasses, and clover scent the air. Nothing else has changed even though the fire is burning, obscuring, hiding.
Corrie Ten Boom is one of my heroes. She survived the Nazi’s concentration camps to share her testimony of God’s power in the midst of nightmares-turned-reality. Her words burn powerfully along my hazy horizon this morning.
When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer.
Can I trust the Engineer? Am I going to throw away my ticket and abandon ship just because I can’t see where I am being taken?
I can’t see the mountains this morning. But, I know that they are still there. I can’t see my destination or why this painful path was chosen for me in this season of waiting and longing. But, I know that Christ has promised to make all things beautiful in His time.
Beautiful vision. Clarified destiny. Silhouettes of majesty. I’ve got my eyes on the hazy horizon.