Foggy Morning Boat Rides

Lord, on days when my faith feels foggy, please grant me the eyes to see Your goodness shining through.

Fog can be a dreadful thing even though it never causes us direct harm. We can pass through it like the breeze through river cane, but it still brings our days to a halt when it creeps in. Fog doesn’t create an impenetrable barrier making progression impossible. It doesn’t rob us of our strength or bind us in chains. Fog is dreadful not because of what it cannot accomplish, but because of what it does accomplish. Fog blinds us. It makes us forget the scenery of what awaits on the horizon ahead of us. Fog blurs the lines of reality to make seeing truth increasingly difficult. The thicker it sets in around us the more difficult it becomes to navigate.

As you know by now, I love to hunt. Deer hunting was my first love, but duck hunting quickly became my most frequented avenue in pursuing my passion for the outdoors. Being on the river in a 16 foot jon boat during the coldest season of the year sounds ludacris to most, but it makes my heart bound with an enthusiastic cadence. While I feel more than comfortable in this environment, nature still checks in periodically to ensure that I am pursuing her with the utmost respect. It is challenging enough to navigate rivers and lakes in the dark, but it is an added layer of difficulty and danger when the fog decides to roll in.

I can remember one early morning boat ride when the fog made me forget everything I thought I knew. I headed out with a few friends to duck hunt Old Hickory lake, like we have done hundreds of times before. Our end destination, a blind up the Cumberland River near the mouth of Spencer Creek, was only a couple miles away. A short and easy boat ride for someone familiar with this water. On a clear morning you could make the run in fifteen minutes or less. This particular morning we were met at the boat launch by an intensely thick and consuming fog bank covering the entirety of the lake. We’ve dealt with this before. We know the procedure in battling this type of setback, slow down and take your time. Don’t be in a rush. So, being the desperate Middle Tennessee duck hunters that we were (and still are) we decided to make the journey despite the clouds of the unknown before us. It didn’t take long to realize that this fifteen minute boat ride would take much longer. The moment we pushed off the dock and the illumination from the sole light pole in the boat ramp parking lot disappeared we knew this would be a long morning.

Our fleet of mighty aluminum duck boats lined single file in the river and filled with decoys headed into the fog, slowly. Our ignorant zeal for finding the few ducks wintering on our humble lake might have made us naive to the severity of the situation that we had just entered into. To get to our final destination we would need to hug the northern bank of the Cumberland as we idled upstream before crossing to the other side. You have to be careful crossing this section of the river because of the multiple sand bars with full size tree snags stuck in mud between the two banks of the river. Once we crossed over the sand bars we would then need to stick to the southern bank of the Cumberland, still heading upstream. Before arriving at the mouth of Spencer Creek, we would pass beneath the power lines connecting the Sumner and Wilson County borders of the lake. From there it would be smooth sailing to our blind.

We arrived at our first checkpoint without any major issues. Now it was time to cross the lake and find the other shoreline. In efforts to keep us on a straight course through the fog, we used a compass to draw an imaginary line to where we would find the other bank. We aimed the bow of the boat down the line and slowly headed across the lake. There is something strange about how the fog lays on top of water. It makes it hard to tell where the water stops and the fog begins. Almost like you are stuck between two dimensions, floating in nothingness and trying to find something familiar. It is quite unnerving even to this experienced boater. After a while of following our compass we realized that we had a problem. We should have been to the other side by now right? We had been driving this direction for way too long. We should have found land by now.

Suddenly a light appeared, flashing red. Immediately we recognized it as one of the towers holding the power lines above the lake. This tower was closest to the southern border of ther river, the side we needed to be on. This was a good thing. We had a point of reference and now all we needed to do was to use this as a new starting point. We set out on our new path thinking we had corrected our previous mistakes, but before any real confidence resurfaced we saw another light, this one flashing green. It was the other tower! This tower is closest to the northern border of the river. Instead of going towards the southern shoreline, we were headed to where we just came from. So, we turned around again. We found the red flashing light and once more thought we were back on track. After a few more minutes of idling through the darkness and fog we again found the green flashing light. Imagine our confusion when we realized we had in fact not been approaching our hunting location, but instead we were driving circles in the middle of the lake between the two power towers. Like a game of Pong, we had bounced between these two towers for 30 minutes before we actually found our correct path. As comical as it sounds today, I assure you that we were all a little concerned. It’s a scary thing to not know where you are in a situation like that. The added feelings of vertigo from the invisible border between water and fog made it felt as if we were going to float right off the side of the world, or at least over the edge of a waterfall I knew didn’t exist. The fog plays tricks on your mind and makes us forget what we know to be true.

Eventually, we found our way to the blind and hunted the remainder of the morning. What was normally a fifteen minute boat ride turned into an hour and a half of spinning circles in confusion. That’s what the fog does to us. It spins us in circles and confuses our souls. What we know is true suddenly becomes a hazy blur. It is no different in our faith. Seasons of spiritual fog set in and begin to wage war on our hearts and minds. As Christians, we know God's truth and the promises He made, but we still struggle to see Him and believe those truths due to the fog. Fog can look different to each of us. Spiritual fog can come in waves of loss, anxiousness, depression, apathy, or even sin. These things and many more make it tough to remember the God who says “Never will I leave you, nor forsake you…” (Hebrews 13:5).

My prayer is that when you find yourself in seasons of spiritual fog, stay persistent in pursuing the Lord. Don’t sit in neutral fearing to move at all. Even if it means you loop circles between the towers of faith and doubt, just keep moving. The God who called you out of darkness and into light will supply all your needs in your pursuit of Him. The fog might seem like it's here to stay, but ask any ol duck hunter what happens when the sun rises. Eventually, it burns away the fog and brings clarity over creation again. Though your fog may be all consuming, making it ever more difficult to live by faith, stand firm knowing that the Son will one day burn that fog away. We will see Him clearly. It may take weeks, months, years, or sometimes a lifetime, but the fog is always temporary. Take heart Christian, your fog does not blind your God. He sees you. He knows where you are. He is patient in your pursuit of Him. Just keep searching even in the midst of your confusion. He will direct your steps and supply you with perseverance (2 Thessalonians 3:5).

He is supreme and sufficient over every anxious thought, depression filled day, sin filled season, and heartbroken moment. He is your God. Never will He leave you. Even in the fog!