Pilgrims

Hello . . .

A lot of the things Peggy says to me resonate deeply, and sometimes those things are found in the most unlikely of places. Who would have thought a simple benediction would inspire a host of imagery, a deeper understanding of the nature of this life we all live.

"From one pilgrim on this journey to another" is how she signed off on her last email to me.

And it got me thinking.

Now, I've loved the picture of life as a journey for as long as I can remember - I read a children's version of The Pilgrim's Progress when I was 6 or 7, and became captivated by it. And most fables that capture my heart have as their central point this quest - a physical quest, an actual moving about on the face of the earth in search of something (though I like quests of self as well, I've loved geography since around the same age, when I was looking at a globe and wondering how Australians stayed on the planet and didn't fall off).

We are all pilgrims . . . and I think we like to operate from an "us" vs "them" mentality too often in regards to our fellow man. There is no "them" . . . don't let Fox pull the wool over your eyes on that one. There is only "we" . . . WE are all on this journey, you, me, the people we've met - that homeless guy who smells of his own piss and the single mother who has yet to hit 20 and the suit who looks like he has his shit together and the housewife who sings her kids to sleep every night and the guy above me who snores too loud every night and your neighbour with the loud fights and your other neighbour with the stupid little dog . . . and every member of Al-Qaeda, every member of Hamas and Hezbollah, and the men and women in the Mossad and the CIA, and the leaders of the EU, and the ambassadors to the UN, and the heads of the WTO, and the people in Greenpeace and the people in Shell and Exxon and OPEC . . . the communists and fascists, the liberals and conservatives, the tree-huggers and the planet-rapers, vegetarians and factory farm operators, evolutionists and creationists, Habs fans and Leaf fans and Sox fans and Yankee fans and those who hate sports altogether . . .

We're all on the same journey.

Everyone you meet today, no matter how pleasant or rude they are to you or you may be to them, is on a journey home. Ecclesiastes tells us that God has put eternity in our hearts, and we feel it as the sun sets, as we say good bye to loved ones till next time, as we watch our children get married, as we learn about a dear one's death, we feel this tug of eternity. Things weren't meant to end. Death was not a part of the original plan, and good bye was not a part of the original language. I don't know about you, but there seems to be this tension in my life between trusting that God will be faithful like He has been in the past and wanting to do my best to ensure that the future is as bright as the present has been . . .

We are all on this journey, all have this tug on our hearts for something greater than what we can set our eyes on here, and we've all experienced opposition in our journey. Some have bought into lies along the way, and have journeyed back to a "safer" place . . . they've built a fortress along the way and vowed to stay behind it, all the while denying the call deep within themselves that says a better life is found behind these self made walls. Some allow themselves to be used by the enemy to delay or if possible stop others on their journey, and more than likely think they are doing good. Still others deny the journey altogether, if not with their words, than with their lives. And occasionally, you meet someone who embraces that journey, not worrying about the cost, because nothing compares to the glory of pressing on and encouraging others to as well.

When you meet someone like that, you pray that you can journey for as long as possible with them, and I believe the best marriages are those between two people fully aware of their own journey and dedicated to encouraging their partner on their own. The deepest friendships, the best family relationships, stem from an awareness of where we are on the journey and how we can help others even while learning from them.

It takes a kind of humility I'm still developing, and a kind of love that keeps growing in me, to look at others wherever they may be on their path and to love them for it, to push them further while loving so very much how far they have already come. I've been far too harsh in the past, and though it was out of love, it had the opposite effect at times. I'm learning to go easy on myself, and in turn, go easy on others - there is so much happening beneath the surface, in that inexpressible part of ourselves that only God really knows and understands - sometimes even we don't . . .

I hope every day from here on out to embrace this journey consistently, to love more freely, and to be open with expectancy to whatever delights the day might hold . . .