Pilgrimage

19 May 2011

Sometimes our journeys bring us round again, to vistas familiar. Our vantage new, scenes before us recognized, and the heart remembers what it felt the first time it saw.

The higher ridge means haze and thin air; soul must rest frequent, and monitor constant to live up here, listening for song in the wind, keeping simple in the extremes.

And the low valley means suspenseful quiet, taut senses; and soul must hush pounding heartbeat to listen for whispers of hope.

One day we wake, and realize our surroundings: makeshift shelters, impossible panoramas, unfamiliar territory. We’re in a caravan, and we forgot. I’m a pilgrim, and I must remember.

Because the wilderness is wide, wild, brutal. And the oasis can suffocate and mislead. There is no location impervious to danger, because internal hazards outweigh external threats.

Sheer awe, the overwhelmed soul, and despair’s haunting companionship bring us silent, gaping, cognizant of our relative size in this vastness. We are vulnerable. We are small. We are undone.

But we are not alone. I am not alone.

And we will not be utterly forsaken, because God has committed Himself to us, because He chose to, because we belong to Him.

The only good thing about being a sheep in this wilderness, is having a Good Shepherd. Many leaders call for our adherence, but only God is good.

He is God, and I am not.

And He is good, and I am safe.

What is your only comfort in life and in death? That I am not my own, But belong body and soul, in life and death, To my faithful Saviour, Jesus Christ. -Heidelberg Catechism