Susan LaffertyA dense fog settled over me for several years. Like the fog slowing urban streets where we lived during part of that time.
Nearing 50, I joked about brain overload. How pieces of my mind were escaping. Slipping away.
But this was disorienting.
The thick fog outside our urban apartment hid the sun. Birds stopped singing.
I struggled to sing too. During the season I was menopaused.
We live in a world of instant information.
Nonstop noise invading silence.
Multiple voices vie for attention and devotion. Some offer good messages and interesting ideas. But these too can distract. Derail.
And keep me from relying on the best.
His Word.
Him.
What happened? In the unknown, we wonder. What’s the rest of the story?
A specific encounter comes to mind. One seemingly orchestrated. Timely. A divine appointment with gospel flowing.
And genuine interest on her part. Hunger to know. In fact, she relates a series of events. That have brought her to this point. This place.
Sitting in my Karachi living room.
