The fog was so dense I couldn’t find my car. Gently pulling out of my garage, I slowly drove to the stop sign and made a left onto the street with hopes no one else would be there. I knew the light signal was approaching but I couldn’t see more than 10 feet in front of me. I couldn’t see anything—especially the car parked on the side of the road I almost hit.

It’s 4:47am. The sun isn’t out and my headlights are thwarted by the dense fog. Driving seven miles per hour must be illegal in some states, but it’s definitely dangerous in California. I’m not a hyper-religious person [ok, sometimes I am], but I prayed a prayer out loud something along the lines of, SweetBabyJesus, don’t let me die.

Immediately I saw the white dashed lines indicating the width of my driving lane and the edge of the boulevard.

As long as I can see the lines, I said to myself, I’ll be fine. The lines are my friends. The lines are my friends.

Once the fog lifted I drove freely and safely down the highway to work and couldn’t help but parallel this to moments of fog in our personal lives. Sometimes life is dense, we can’t see what’s in front of us. Our judgement and perception is impaired. If not careful, we run the risk of accident, injury, or even mortality.

Lines are provided to protect us, guide us, and lead us to safety. When God draws lines of instruction—areas of safety—it’s because He knew our judgement might be impaired or life may have moments of unclarity. They are not walls forbidding us to move; they are lines of protection cautioning us to stay safe.

When life is dense, open God’s word and look for the lines. The directions are all inside.

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