Chasing the Mist

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There are thrill-seekers who chase the storms, but my son and I chase the mist.

Yesterday, we were on the ferrry crossing from New York into Vermont to pick up the girlies from summer camp. It was foggy but the fog seemed always ahead of us.

Then I realized we were in it all along — the mist, which seemed beyond us, actually surrounded us.

“Maybe this is like God’s love,” I said. “It seems in the distant, but we are actually in the middle of it.”

“Maybe.”

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