The forecast called for a 100 percent chance of weather, and as usual it was right on the money. One day last week I drove through a steady display of what I have taken to calling “Florida rain,” a barrage of tiny droplets completely unlike anything we ever saw in Texas. (Raindrops in Texas, on the rare occasion they are seen, look very much like baseballs.) Driving over the river, my favorite view was impeded greatly by the rain and a sort of haze hovering over the water. Something to do with dewpoint, I think.
It occurred to me that small things (rowboats, birds, turtles, etc.) can be rendered murky or invisible by the weather. Even relatively large things such as buildings can be obscured at a distance. But at no point did I begin to question the basics of the scene behind the obstructions. The buildings, although fuzzy in my vision, were still there and relatively unchanged. The river was still there. The shoreline may have moved backward or forward a foot or two, but not significantly. There is an inherent stability in the world that helps me keep the variables of the world in perspective.
Faith is like that. My day-to-day circumstances change constantly. But the underlying reality of my life remains constant. God rules. I serve. I can have confidence in the face of the unknown because it isn’t really unknown. God knows all, and I know all I need to know.
Faith is, after all, “the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1). Thanks be to God I can content myself with seeing what is in my immediate vision, however clouded that may be, and trust that the rest is safe in His hands.