The Pilgrim's prayer

I commit to the journey, not knowing where it will lead.

I trust in your spirit, Lord, to open the doors, so that I may progress.

When the way is clear, I rejoice.

When the way is clouded or confusing, I wait patiently for clues.

For the crooked road invites me to surrender to your plan.

And no matter how many times I do it, I still struggle each time You ask it of me.

For in truth, I would like to have "arrived" and not still wander.

And yet, I am on a journey, a journey that calls forth faith.

A journey that challenges me to continue moving and not sit idly by.

Sometimes, though Lord, I get pretty tired of the journey.

So send down some of that loving Presence, to encourage my soul.

For otherwise, I might falter and stumble.

Which is not the end of the world.

But is a type of darkness. And You are Light.

Carved in stone

We go through many doors...

Sometimes we hold someone's image in our mind as one unchangeable. No matter the passage of time, we think of that person from that one time, perhaps even from one act or circumstance. In effect, we have carved that person in stone.

But no one stays the same. No one is set forever.

Perhaps that is why Deuteronomy 5:8 instructs You shall not make for yourself any graven image. We are prone to set things in stone, and then worship our ideal as true. When we do that, we are so wrong.

I look on my own past, and sometimes wish I had learned earlier and understood sooner. I wish I could have let go more. And matured younger. And stepped out sooner rather than later. I wish I had been more open, more able to question, and realized the difference between an image and a true self.

I wish I had not feared so much, and done so little. In a word, I wish that a lot of my past had been different. And I realize, it is all part of journey.

Michael Himes says if we say we know someone like a book, then we really don't know that person at all. Because we are not books. We are human beings.

If I need time to grow, if I make mistakes I later regret, or act in a way that I later abandon, then I need to allow another the same freedom. It doesn't matter if I cannot see a change, cannot discern the person's regret or difference.

All that matters is that I set that person free. That I let her find herself on her journey. Even as I need to find myself in journey.

If We Could Only Wait

Sometimes I feel that walking on a spiritual path is similar to walking through the woods on an earthen trail. If you keep walking, you will at some point get your feet wet and muddy. You will find times when you cannot see the sun. And there will be times when the beauty of nature ceases to amaze you and you find yourself pretty much alone.

I cannot image anyone who hasn't felt these emotions at some point on their spiritual journey. I believe the secret for weathering these times comes from remembering the truths that you held when things were good. If you believe in something and it is true, going through a "muddy feet" period in your life does not make that truth any less real. It is during these times of less sun and less amazement that we have a chance to examine not just what we believe, but why. And sometimes the why is more revealing than we like to admit.

Perhaps the secret to all journeys is having the patience to wait. Without patience, we have the adult version of the "are we there yet?" syndrome that fills us with anxiety and doubt. We want our spiritual lives to proceed  faster than they do. If we stay with the walk, if we are patient, we will find that getting our feet wet and muddy wasn't so bad. Because ultimately, when the sun breaks through and our spirits lift, we will find more amazement and joy than we experienced before. If we can only wait.