Dear Congregation

Welcome to 2024! I hope and pray that this will be a year during which you grow in your knowledge, love, and trust of God. May His gracious face shine upon you in a new way this year.

This last Sunday, I was running late for church. This is an unfortunately common experience for me, as I know it is for many of you. I had intended to leave earlier, but had gotten sidetracked going over my sermon notes, and then realized that the shirt I wanted to wear looked like it had been trampled by a herd of furious wildebeest. In fact, I am still persuaded that it was the only logical conclusion for how my shirt came to be in such a crinkled state. An ironing was going to be required, and I am not a very fast ironer, hence I left late.

As I left my neighborhood though, the Lord had a wonderful distraction for me, which would only serve to make me even later, but would also serve as a marvelous distraction. We live up on a hill in north west Austin, and as I began to descend from our little suburban mount of comfort and seclusion, there was an incredible view. As I looked South towards downtown, I was met with a dense blanket of fog that was sitting low over the lake, trapped in by the cold inversion and the high pressure weightiness of the crisp and clear January sky. The moisture rising off the lake had nowhere to go and so it got stuck in a miles long serpentine band, which effortlessly traced the line of the Colorado river with perfect precision. I was going to have to cross that band.

As I approached the Pennybacker bridge, I just had to stop and shoot a pic of what I saw.
A dense wall of fog blocked Loop 360. It looked impenetrable. 

I drove on through it, knowing that there would be clarity on the other side, and when I made it safely to church, I scribbled a few observations in my journal. I have captured those below for your edification or bemusement. 

When the way forward is shrouded in fog and mist and the road ahead is unclear and uncertain. Remember, there is a way through to the other side.

1. There is a way through, but faith is required. You can’t see the other side, but you know that there is a bridge there and believe that it will hold you and keep you moving in the right direction. “Now faith is the reality of what is hoped for, the proof of what is not seen. - Heb 11:1. When I can’t see the way clearly in front of me, I have to keep my faith in the one who can get me across.

2. There is a way through, but perspective is needed. I had confidence to know that the fog would be short-lived because I had seen it from above, from the top of the hill, up above the fog. When you are in the midst of it you have no idea when it will end and can start to believe that it never will end. Perspective from a higher view allowed me to see that what I needed to get through wouldn’t last long. It would be clear again soon. I saw that from the view above the fog. Prayer, worship, community, and remembrance, are all ways to get us a view from above the fog. 

3. There is a way through, but the only way is through. Sitting still won’t help and there is no better way around. The only way is through. There are some seasons in life that simply have to be endured by faith and by the powerful, comforting presence of the Holy Spirit. “But we are not those who draw back and are destroyed, but those who have faith and are saved.” - Heb 10:39.

Friends, I know that some of you are in seasons of deep fog. Some of you don’t even feel like you can see your hand in front of your face. There is a way through to the other side. Keep faith, fight for perspective, and then press on until it lifts. It will get clearer. I promise. 

Your church is here to navigate it all with you.

I cannot wait to worship with you on Sunday.

Ross

PS The music this week is from the enigmatically brilliant Jason Upton. Enjoy. 

Jason Upton - Never Alone (Official Live Lyric Video)