I love a foggy morning—as long as I don’t have to drive in it. Cheeto the Cat and I made our way to the Story Shack just before daylight this morning, and I could see fog shrouding the neighbors’ outdoor lights and my peacock wind chimes, purchased to remind me of Aunt Callie, one of the most creative women I ever knew. The fog is still hovering, even though the sun’s up and Cheeto is well into his third round of snacks, torn between the treat bowl in the floor and the one on my desk (which is much more convenient to his napping chair, so decision made).
I love fog for the same reason I love a rainy afternoon or a thunderstorm—the sense of being sheltered. Watching the rain from a front porch or listening to the thunder while I write in a candlelit Story Shack—those are definite happy places for me. And I’m acutely aware of what a blessing it is to have shelter, having recently traveled to the Florida Panhandle, where I saw some of the locals sleeping in tents pitched wherever they could find a spot. The same is true of fire victims in California. I haven’t seen the devastation there up close, but I did see the Smokies after the Chimney Tops 2 fire in 2016. And I spent a lot of time on the Gulf Coast after Katrina. Something a Bay St. Louis restaurant owner said back then stuck with me: “People tell me they know how I feel because a hurricane once destroyed their vacation home. Wait till a storm destroys your house, your church, the school your kids attend, your business—everything. Then come and talk to me.”
It’s easy to take shelter for granted: The roof over our head will always be there. The people we love and lean on will always be with us. Only when we feel like our shelter has been taken away do we realize how important it is, how much we need and depend on it.
One thing I ask from the Lord,
this only do I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life,
to gaze on the beauty of the Lord
and to seek him in his temple.
For in the day of trouble
he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter
of his sacred tent
and set me high upon a rock.
Psalm 27: 4-5
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