Fog and Opportunity

There is something beautiful about pushing a boat out into the fog on the Choctawhatchee Bay. The shoreline disappears, familiar landmarks vanish, and all you can see is a gray curtain hanging over the water. Yet there is peace in knowing the bay well enough to trust where you are headed, even when you cannot see the destination.

Life with God often feels the same way.

In Genesis 37, Joseph made what was probably a youthful mistake. God gave him dreams, but Joseph shared those self-exalting visions with his brothers, whose hearts were already growing jealous. Perhaps those dreams should have remained hidden in the fog a little longer. Instead, his brothers filled in the blanks, assuming Joseph desired to rule over them, and their jealousy set in motion years of hardship.

Dreams are funny things. Sometimes they appear through a foggy haze, much like looking through cataracts (something I understand better after recently having cataract surgery). When our vision is clouded, we often supply our own explanations, assumptions, and fears. We imagine what God must mean instead of patiently waiting for Him to reveal His purpose.

Yet some dreams are more than imagination. Some dreams are God-given visions—glimpses of a future reality that He is preparing. They are less about our own greatness and more about His unfolding plan. They become destinations toward which God gently steers us.

Several months ago, our church had such a dream: to invite children into an encounter with God through art and music. That vision formed around the beautiful prayer of Psalm 90:17:

"Let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands for us; yes, establish the work of our hands."

Last week, our planning team gathered to discuss the overwhelming logistics for our July 13–17 Sacred Arts Camp. There were schedules, volunteers, supplies, classrooms, music, and countless details that could easily make the dream seem impossible.

But something wonderful happened. The fog began to lift. The cataracts are being removed.

What once seemed confusing is beginning to come into focus as a "thin place"—a place where the distractions of this world fade, and God's reality becomes beautifully clear.

Joseph's dreams led him through opposition, obstacles, and oppression before they led him to God's purpose. Our own dreams often travel the same road. Yet if they are truly born of God, they will eventually lead us exactly where He intends.

I love that the word opportunity may be traced to the Latin expression ob portu, referring to favorable conditions for bringing a ship safely into harbor. The tide comes in, the winds align, and the captain knows it is time to make port. There is work to be done!

Perhaps that is where we are today. By following God's leading and allowing His beauty to establish the work of our hands, He is guiding us into the harbor He has prepared—a place filled with art, music, drama, goodness, grace, and children discovering the beauty of Christ.

The fog is clearing. The cataracts are being removed. And the beauty of God's dream is finally coming into focus.