We walk by faith and not by sight. Yet, there are times, like now, for me, when I am reminded that I am still looking to see some assurance that God will show us mercy. Is it an oxymoron to say that my faith is experiencing low visibility?

I remember a time in Bolivia many years ago. I was a nurse and had accompanied a physician and a small team to teach some basic health screening skills to the missionaries of some nomadic jungle tribes.

On the morning we were to fly into one of the sites the area was covered with dense fog. We waited to hear from the “air traffic control” that it was safe to fly. I didn’t really get ready because I knew that a pilot couldn’t possibly see and the small plane had no instruments. To my amazement, we were told we could go.

The plane was packed and since I was the smallest person I was placed in the back just sitting on some duffel bags. After a time in the air I heard the pilot say to the doctor, “There are mountains on both sides of us and I can’t see.”

I curled up and cried. I knew we were all going to die.

Then, I heard the pilot say, “It’s OK now, I can see.”

Our plane grazed over the landing strip to clear the cattle. Then we circled back and landed. Our missionary hosts and a gathering of children who were fascinated by my blond hair and wanting to touch it greeted us. I was glad to have them touching me but most fascinated by hearing the missionary say, “We tried to radio to you this morning and tell you not to come because of the fog, but we couldn’t get through. So we prayed. When we heard the sound of your engine coming through the valley between the two mountains, suddenly the fog lifted right at the place where your plane broke through.”

I was not scared anymore during that entire trip.

I am scared tonight. I cannot see. I am going to pray. I am going to expect the fog to lift right at the place and time that is needed.

I am grateful for this memory.