Tonight I got to go the eastern edge of the city, on a little jut where the city is a little removed on one side, while the other side is a view of the skyline (so even more removed). It was dark already, and foggy, so that if you looked straight out at the water, it was hard to differentiate where sky met water. You could tell a little bit where it was from a boat or something that was out there with a red light on it, blinking on now and then. The noise and the lights of the city reminded me of the joy that is found in a life with Christ; he fills our lives with light and purpose and noise/joy. At the same time, there are periods of darkness in life, where it can feel like a vast expanse of nothingness, or like you know there’s a shore out in front of you, but fogginess is blocking it. But even in that place of confusion and maybe panic, God is still there, showing up and moving in our lives, like that boat with the light. There’s a great peace in the fact that settings don’t limit God, and that His presence is still prominent when nothing else is very visible.