Dear St.Andrews

Have you ever stepped into a fog and suddenly lost all sense of direction?

That’s what it felt like to find myself unexpectedly in hospital—trying to understand what was happening to me, what it meant for my life, and what I was supposed to do next.

During that time, God led me to Jim Collins’ What to Make of a Life. Collins studied hundreds of people through the cultural footprints they left behind—their biographies, books, music, art, and other artifacts. He looked for patterns in how people made their lives liveable, or didn’t, after what he describes as “going over a cliff.”

And everyone, sooner or later, goes over a cliff.

A job disappears. A dream dies. Someone we love is lost. An illness changes everything. Something happens that divides life into before and after.

Collins noticed that what people did next mattered enormously.

One of the first experiences after going over the cliff, he says, is often fog. You can’t see where you’re going. The familiar landmarks have disappeared. You don’t know how long the fog will last, and you certainly can’t see the destination.

Some people lose hope there.

But Collins noticed something among those who found their way through: they didn't need to see the whole road ahead.

They simply took the next step.

He calls it Simplex Stepping.

For me, that meant saying yes to the offer of interim pastors. It meant following the doctors' advice.  Choosing to fight the dragons rather than running away—and trust me, I wanted to run. It meant looking honestly at my own patterns and recognizing how much growing I still had to do. It meant asking myself difficult questions, including this one: Why do I keep striving for approval when God has already told me that I am loved?

Somewhere along the way, I remembered the story of a young adult who had been fishing with friends off the west coast of Vancouver Island when their boat was swallowed by a fog bank.

He reflected afterward, “All we could do was rely on the instruments and start heading in the direction they told us to go.”

They couldn't see the shore.

They couldn't see very far in front of the boat.

But they had something trustworthy enough to steer by.

Maybe faith sometimes looks like that.

Take the next step. Trust the instruments. Follow the direction you’ve been given, even when you cannot yet see the destination.

It also brought to mind an old hymn, His Eye Is on the Sparrow, based in part on Jesus’ words in Matthew 10:29–31. One line in particular has become a comfort to me in foggy seasons:

“For by His hand He leads me
Though just one step I may see.”

That feels like enough.

Not the whole journey.
Not a map of what comes next.
Not certainty about where everything will end.

Just enough light for the next step—and the assurance that the One leading us can see what we cannot.

Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 2:9 of the mind bending things “God has prepared for those who love him.” We don't yet see all that God is doing or where the road will lead. Sometimes all we can see is the next faithful step.

So when we find ourselves in the fog, perhaps that is enough.

Listen for his tender words. Trust the instruments he has given us. Place our hand in his.

And take the next step.

With you for Christ,

Pastor Jeremy