It was about 5:30 in the evening, and I was driving home after a quick day trip. The sun had set, but the sky was still a darkened gray. It had been raining earlier that day. Now, instead of wetness, the fog settled over the roads like an intense blanket. Even the bright beams of my headlights lacked the strength to reach through the fog more than a couple of yards at a time. The occasional street lamp lit a cone of light beneath it like the cover of a detective story. 

It was growing darker, and I would have been cold if I hadn’t layered my favorite sweatshirt over my dress and jacket, the windows of my car cracked open to let the air in. 

It was one of those intensely lonely hours, isolated by fog, driving quiet country roads, listening to wistful music and longing with all my heart for the love of God to overwhelm me. But it didn’t come–not like I wanted it to. I knew with my head that the Lord was with me, but in my heart the knowledge could have been a lie for all it affected me. 

It wasn’t a lie. But for a while, it felt like maybe it could be. 

I am a planner. I like to know what I’m doing tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, and, preferably, for the rest of my life. God is a planner, too. But He’s also a teacher. He has this thing He likes to do where He teaches me to trust His plan, even though I don’t know what it looks like. 

As I drove that empty road on a half-empty tank with an empty heart, I realized that sometimes, following God can be kind of like driving in the fog. My GPS is taking me to the end goal, home. I don’t know the route, but I know I will get there. So I take the journey each turn of the wheels at a time. In the same way, my Lord is guiding me Home. I don’t know the pieces of life that will happen between now and Home, but the Lord does. 

If I trust a GPS, why don’t I trust the Savior who died and rose for me?  

Every once in a while, I ask the Lord for clarity on what He has planned for me in the future. He still hasn’t answered. Keep writing, He says. Other than that, keep driving in the fog. You’ll know when you get there. Just like a GPS that only gives me the next instruction, He wisely makes me live my life in bite-sized pieces. It might frustrate me, but I know in the end, He knows best.  

I like being alone. I like it because when I’m alone, I’m not really alone. When it’s just me, no other people around, I most easily sense the presence of my Savior. But sometimes, His presence isn’t tangible. That may not always be a result of sin (though it’s a great reminder to do a quick heart check!), but it’s a reality nonetheless. 

Over the last four years, the Lord has taught me so much about the response to loneliness. How His love for me is real and true and relentless. How I don’t have to depend on people for my satisfaction while balancing the truth that it is not good for man to be alone (Genesis 2:18). 

I wasn’t flooded or overwhelmed by an intense awareness of His presence on that drive home. But He didn’t just leave me hanging. I was listening to the album “Ghost of a King” by the Gray Havens (vibes: impeccable.), and He reminded me of something: I have all I need. 

Every time this song plays, the Lord presses it home. I have all I need. I will have all I will need. So whether its trusting the Lord to keep driving through the fog, or a gentle knowing that He is there to touch my heart when it aches from the silence in the dark, I have all I need. Take this slowly. Drive the car. Enjoy your ride. Take each day slowly. Good things are coming. Don’t let the good things you have now go by unnoticed. 

His love is not a lie. It is never a lie. It is real. He is real. Even in the forgetfulness, or the fog, or the frenzy. He is real.