The Unlikely Messenger: A Slice of Life with Debra Brown
For we walk by faith, not by sight” – 2 Corinthians 5:7.
Before the coffee could kick in, we crept along the backroads, the thick fog slowing us down and threatening to turn our Orlando adventure into a no-show.
The Labor Day weekend trip to Walt Disney World promised a relaxing escape for Allen, our six-year-old daughter, Meredith, and me. We needed a vacation after the summer of 1996, which hadn’t gone as planned.
We’d left early to beat the traffic, but thick mist swallowed the view. The vibrant yellow clusters of goldenrod disappeared into the roadside ditches. Taillights blinked through the haze. Familiar barns and pine trees faded into white as we inched forward. Our excitement dimmed with each slow mile.
“Why does everything look like a cloud?” Meredith asked from the back seat.
“It’s just fog, sweetie,” I said. “It’ll lift.”
I hoped it’d happen soon.
When we reached I-95, things went from slow to slower, with cars stacked bumper to bumper. Allen tapped the steering wheel with his thumb. Meredith shifted and sighed. I fidgeted with the radio.
“Are we getting close?” I asked, a few hours later, after endless stops and starts.
“It’s hard to tell,” he muttered. “We could turn around and go home. The northbound lane is moving.”
None of us felt the least bit magical. But we knew Allen didn’t mean we needed to turn back.
The plan had seemed perfect: a long weekend with mild weather, smaller crowds than summer months, and a chance to swim and explore. But the gray morning dragged on, with no pretty views and little movement forward.
Then, hours later, the view we’d waited for appeared.
“There it is!” Meredith shouted, pressing her face to the window. “I see the castle!”
Through the windshield, Cinderella’s Castle stood tall and majestic, framed by a sky that had finally turned blue. We left the fog, traffic, and tension in our rearview mirrors.
Excitement spilled throughout the car.
We parked, grabbed our bags, checked in at the hotel, and didn’t look back.
That night, we wandered the park under golden lights. We strolled by vibrant flowers and lush greenery. Laughter floated by, while the scent of popcorn and warm churros tempted us to stop by food stands.
Meredith and I met Snow White by chance the next morning on our way to her pancake breakfast with Jasmine. Afterward, we drifted through It’s a Small World as the catchy theme song played on a loop.
Allen waved from below as Meredith and I soared through the air on Dumbo the Flying Elephant. She squealed with delight, her laughter and mine echoing through the Magic Kingdom.
Allen and I sipped fresh-squeezed Florida orange juice near the pool while Meredith splashed in the water. Later, we staked out a shady spot for the evening parade. The music played. Fireworks exploded overhead. Disney characters danced down Main Street.
We felt the magic all around as we returned to our hotel.
“Best day ever,” Meredith whispered, curling beside me on the sofa.
At one point during our stay, the Monorail glided past, and I pointed to it. “Papa helped build that ‘highway in the sky’ when I was a teenager.”
She turned to look at me, eyes wide. “Really?”
I nodded and said, “Papa’s proud of it, and seeing his work is amazing.”
The skies opened up one afternoon, and a downpour soaked the park. We pulled on bright yellow ponchos that made everyone look like waddling ducks. Water pooled along the sidewalks, and Meredith splashed through the puddles with delight, arms flapping, feet stomping. “Quack-quack!” she called out, giggling as the rain danced around her. Even the clouds couldn’t dim her joy that day.
All these years later, those Walt Disney World memories warm my heart, not just because of the trip itself, but because we almost let uncertainty and challenges stop us. What if we’d let the fog and heavy traffic convince us to turn back? The thought of what we could have missed makes the experience all the more precious.
That’s what I think about sometimes. We often come close to missing good experiences when we let a rough start dictate the rest of the journey.
Fog shows up in many ways, stretching us thin: traffic jams, tired kids, broken plans, and delays. Even tougher ones want to derail us—the waiting rooms, job searches, and seasons where we feel stuck, slow, and uncertain.
We want signs and guarantees. But more often than not, God gives us something else: just enough light to take the next step.
That’s why faith matters. It shows up on mountaintops, but faith also leads us on foggy mornings in SUVs when nothing feels clear.
“For we walk by faith, not by sight.”
Faith guides us, even in traffic, when the magic feels far away, when the road is quiet, and the view ahead disappears.
When I think about stopping, I remember the Magic Kingdom adventure. Some of the sweetest moments wait for us just past the fog. The castle might be closer than we think.
Debra Brown’s motto is “Be the Spark.” She has a passion for family, her 3 cats, flowers, pretty food, and health & wellness. Devra is an author, UGA honors graduate/The Citadel MBA.