In my role as a Prison Chaplain about once every 8 weeks I am rostered to lead the Sunday Chapel Service at Mobilong Prison in Murray Bridge, SA. It is a medium security campus-style facility and I relish the opportunity to share in worship with up to 30 residents. This morning was one such occasion.

To start with, Mobilong is about 70km from my home and so I need to leave by 7:30am to ensure I arrive at the site with enough time to get through the Gatehouse security protocols, make my way to the building where Chapel is held and then set up the technology, the chairs and the other bits and pieces required for the service.

Those of you familiar with Adelaide and the main route from the suburbs towards Murray Bridge will realise that the journey requires a portion of the trip driving through the Mt Lofty ranges.

While this wintry morning was a bit grey in Adelaide, once I started the climb out of the city the temperature began to drop, along with the visibility. The changeable speed signs reduced the limit from 100 kmph to 80kmph with warning signs flashing the message ‘poor visibility ahead’. They were not wrong.

Fog had descended and was eerily thick as the taillights of the vehicles ahead became less observable. I began to get concerned by how long this situation would last. If I was required to remain at 80 kmph for most of my journey it would mean I would be significantly late and may not get all I needed to get done in preparation for church.

I came to the realisation that I had two choices. One would be to ignore the signs and travel at the usual speed, potentially putting myself and other drivers in harms way, or I could accept there was nothing I could do about the situation except trust God. I chose the latter.

So instead of worrying, I started noticing how the fog changed the feeling of the familiar road I have traveled many, many times. The misty atmosphere made some of the trees that were visible in the fog seem more vibrant and obvious.

Before too long the recommended speed went back to what was usual, although the fog was not fully lifted. This made the environment seem even more magical. It was like there were patches of cotton wool or fairy floss that were caught in some of the valleys on either side of the highway.

On the other side of the mountain range you would not have had a clue of the gloomy weather I had just traveled through as there was an almost cloudless sky with the winter sun shining on the fields around me. I didn’t give the experience too much more thought although it would prove to be helpful as I processed what would unfold in the rest of my morning.

Once I reached the prison I began the security procedures, and was told that one of the items, a decorative cardboard gift box, was not allowed to come in with me. This is something I use as part of the service and I had brought it with me without question on two previous occasions, but I just smiled, accepted this situation and began quietly brainstorming what I may use instead.

After that, when I reached the room I began setting up the laptop where I discovered the cable that I had brought believing it to be a HDMI cable was nothing of the sort and would not be able to facilitate projecting what I had prepared onto the large screen tv. There was no spare cable on offer from the staff so again I needed to work through other possibilities.

My computer had also decided it wouldn’t easily play the sound files I needed for the songs we were going to use, despite working without a hitch the last time I prepared the service using the exact same technology.

To say I was becoming frustrated is an understatement. It seemed that everything I was trying to achieve was being blocked and hampering my efforts to provide a worship service for the residents of this prison.

When things like this happen, as in a flurry of things going wrong, I often realise that something was working hard to throw me off my game and focus on the wrong things. What I needed to do was to slow down, to breathe, and to work out who is in charge and allow Him to show me a way forward … and He did.

Every situation had a ‘work around’ … a way through that meant that the service happened with only a few minor glitches and we had a great time worshipping together.

As I was driving home I was grateful for the beautiful sunny morning, until I reached the point on the return journey where the fog was just as thick as it had been 2.5hrs earlier. The contrast between the two was so stark and I felt there was a lesson I needed to learn about the fog.

Here is where I landed: When you are in the fog it is more difficult to see and to discern what lies ahead. It can be disorienting, scary, unfamiliar and overwhelming. There is a different perspective to be had as I discovered looking at the fog and noticing its beautiful impact on the surroundings. Same fog, changed viewpoint, different experience.

It was hours later before I was able to join the dots about the fact that the obstacles I faced at the prison were fog as well. It had the potential to derail the whole opportunity to spend time in worship until I took the time to change the perspective, see the beauty of the moment and allow God to be God.

I am so pleased I was open for this lesson that began way before I even realised. My day could have had such a different outcome every step of the way, but instead I was able to make a way through all the fog.

As I landed on this lesson I was reminded of a line from one of our church songs written by Herbert Booth: “And where I cannot see, I’ll trust, for then I know you surely must be still my all in all.”

Where I cannot see, I’ll trust. Just remember, there is always another perspective, and a Creator God who is right there with you and can help you see more clearly. I pray this can be a lesson for you today as it was for me.

Be blessed.