Just over a week ago I drove through a very heavy fog as I went to visit a family in Urlaur. The road, though very familiar to me, was vague and uncertain. Twists and turns seemed to come from nowhere and visibility was, as they say, “low”! I thought how easily, when the conditions aren’t right, we can lose sight of something that we take for granted on another day.
Perhaps the fog captured something of my mood. During those same days a young man from home was missing and I knew that many were worrying about him, looking for him and hoping for his safe return. Again, the fog that enveloped them, our community at home, was intense and un-yielding.
The house I was calling to, also had its worries with the mother of the house in hospital and not doing so well. A lot of cloud around for sure. I thought how easily we might give up, turn back on the road and leave the journey for another time. Whilst I had that luxury, my neighbours at home or the family I was planning to visit did not. The journey for them, even in fog, had to continue. So also, mine.
I drove down as far as Urlaur Abbey and was stunned to find there, the clearest of evenings. The fog, though still thick behind me, held no power over the Abbey or its surrounds. The images before me were breath-taking.
How could I have foreseen these beyond the fog? The journey has stayed with me. Sadly the young man from home and the mother of the house I called to have since been laid to rest. May they rest in peace. My heart is with their people, still I’m sure, caught in the fog and my hope – my prayer is that they can emerge at the other side and, with the fog behind them, see clearly once again.