I DREW my curtains and there, instead of the expected view, was a heavy mist - in fact, fog would be a more accurate description. My first thought was for people going to work and a prayer that they would travel safely and with patience. It sometimes comes more easily to be frustrated with what you cannot do, than to patiently wait for things to work out.

I had no time constraints, so I sat and looked at this white blanket. Slowly, shadowy forms began to appear and take shape as the sunlight penetrated the mist. After a while the familiar scene was restored.

We take comfort from the familiar: our own home, our own bed, our routine, but at times they are disrupted, shattered by tragedy, illness, injustice. We are covered by a mist of anger or frustration; a feeling of helplessness, ignored, dismissed. To believe that light will penetrate the mists of life requires faith in our own experience, or the experiences of others. For me, that faith is centred on the experience of Jesus in my life, penetrating the blanket fogs and moving me into a new scene.

When the mist lifts externally, the question remains - have we let the mist be dispersed internally? The bed and routine may still be there to wrap us in rest or not; the road we are travelling may be the same, but maybe we have had to take a different turning.

The familiar scene has changed; have we allowed the light of God to change us?

The Rev Pauline West, Hawkshead Hill Baptist Church