For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees?  Romans 8:24

In the town where I spent my teen-aged years there is a hill we called Mount Pleasant. On most days it was just another rolling green hill. But on some mornings you drove out of that sunshine into a deep impenetrable fog bank. Though the fog usually covered no more than a half of mile of the summit, it was terrifying. The only safe way through was to slow down and keep your eyes on the yellow center line. The most dangerous thing was to stop because then you became a target of the next car that came speeding along. But if you could just force yourself to just keep going, in just a few moments you would drive back out into sunshine.

Fog banks come to all of our lives. A single phone call and a visit to the doctor who told us that my wife needed surgery to remove a mass loomed ahead like a blinding fog. Everything around us seemed dark. Our lives slowed to a crawl. Days blurred into nights as my wife struggled through a painful week in the hospital after her surgery. Ahead lay more months of difficult recovery then more months of chemotherapy.

Through that time we were ever so slowly passing through our fog bank. We were learning how to pray together, and be gentle and honest with each other as we both struggled with our fears. But God’s promise to guide us through our own valley of shadows stood true. When life slowed to a snail’s pace the lines on the road of God’s promises remained and showed us the way – even if just one inch at a time! God stayed with us and carried us through. Today we are driving back out into a sunshine season with gratitude to God, our friends and family. But now we see with a hope, that no matter what dense clouds lie ahead, our sunshine road will be just on the other side of the hill.