I get sacred. I am disorientated. I don't know where to put my foot next. I freeze. I am paralysed. I call out. I am at the end of myself.
Now I know why He led me here, so that I would stop living on my own flesh resources - so that I would trust Him. I call for Him. He does not answer. I am scared stiff. I call and call but my calls rebound off the face of the fog. Is anyone there? Is God there? Has He left me alone? Is this a God-forsaken place? "God why will you not answer me? Why have you gone off and left me? Why have you abandoned me?"
As that final question forms in searing pain in my larynx and explodes in desperation from my lips so I hear not a rebound, but an echo in a different voice. It seems to travel the ages. The fog becomes a backcloth against which I see Him hanging there on a tree - I hear Him calling from the tree. A strange sense of communion envelops me. He is here where I am or am there where He is? It matters not. I am not alone!
The Spirit stirs, faith rises, relief dawns. Did I not say " I will never leave you or forsake you"?
I still cannot see, but I know that He is with me as He said. He heard my cry. He reassured my frightened wee soul.
Why the valley of fog -the fear - the terror- the anguish? - So that you would grow to know me -to trust me - to discern my hidden but very real Presence with you.
The fog lifts. "Shall we go?" "Yes Lord, let's go."