Christ in the Fog

Billowing and blowing, cold and dark: I awake to the fog. Wherever I look, nothing appears. I can't even see my hand in front of my face. Touch is my guide, as are my ears. Each step tentative - if I run, I will fall on unseen danger. Where did the fog come from? It's like a dream... We are the Functional Hurting. We do our jobs. We pay our bills. We attend church. We spend time with our families. We also have that constant, low-level hum in our minds that tells us things are not as they should