Muddled in fog

Fog. A couple of years ago, I headed up to one of my favorite solitary hiking spots in the Marin Headlands. I was grappling with some life questions and went there seeking clarity. Instead, I found myself shrouded in fog, literal fog. After about 20 minutes of climbing, I encountered a barrier with a cautionary sign: “Area Closed. Do not Cross.” Disappointed, I stopped, turned around and went another way. A year later, I returned (it was sunny this time) and encountered the same roadblock. Only this time, I could see more than five feet ahead. To my amazement, I saw that to the left of the fence was a trail leading upward. I climbed on. 

I think this is a picture of how many of us — including the immigrants and refugees we serve at Jubilee — might be feeling right now: muddled in fog. In our frail humanity, fraught with violence, fear and grief, we seek clarity. Who we are. Where we belong. What we are to do. How we are to go on. In this place of fogginess, perhaps interspersed with some sunny days, I hope that we can stop, be present to the grace of the moment (the vastness of sky and ocean, quiet, loved ones, a warm bowl of noodle soup) and acknowledge that we are known and loved. May you extend grace to yourself as you stand in your spaces of uncertainty, knowing that the way forward will come. Perhaps not the way we expect or want, but somehow, some way, we are held and led onward.

We are grateful for the clarity of Jubilee's vision to serve immigrants and refugees. Thank you for joining us in our work.

Amy P. Lee
Executive Director & Immigration Attorney