When we lived in Los Angeles three years ago, we learned about “June Gloom.” It is a weather phenomena which causes a thick fog to cover the coastal area. One morning I ventured through “June Gloom,” walking along the Santa Monica bluff. Walking within 100 yards of the Pacific, I could not see one bit of the ocean.
Then suddenly the sun came out. I turned toward the sea and the evaporating mist. As the fog rolled away, I saw the curtain rise on a whole fishing fleet at anchor. A few minutes prior, I could not detect any of the brightly painted wooden boats.
Therein lies a parable of many moments in life. One minute we see nothing; events are not apparent to us, we are not able to see something vivid right before us — and the next minute, something happens. We have an awakening, we perceive something for the first time.
One day the disciples saw Jesus as merely their teacher and friend. The next minute they saw him transfigured as the Messiah — standing with Elijah and Moses … as the fulfillment of all the law and the prophets.
How much, I wonder, do we fail to see of God’s blessings and glory? What opportunities do we miss, what needs do we ignore, under our very noses?
As we move from Epiphany into our Lenten pilgrimage, ask our omnipresent God to open your eyes, heart, and understanding, to give you experiences of glory revealed, and to come alongside as you live into the forty days of Lent.