Pilgrimage

I love how these modern-day profits of religious and spiritual wisdom tell us that it is important for us to go on our own personal pilgrimages. There is nothing more enlightening than spending weeks in Jerusalem or Scotland in what they call “thin places” to get closer to God. they don’t seem to understand that most of us cannot afford to take the time or spend the money to undertake such adventures. So, I have a suggestion; follow me into my imagination.

I live in an over-55 community, a one-story house with a loft. In that loft is bedroom and a sitting area that I have turned into a small library. Many times, I will go up there just to use this as my quiet area. I think that this is my thin place.

I have followed Jesus into the rugged mountains of western Syria and meditated and prayed while He struggled to realize who He truly was and what His mission on earth meant for humanity.

I have also helped raised the sail of the little leather boat that Brendan built on his journey from Scotland to Newfoundland. We suffered on this trip, but we never feared because we had prayed for many days prior, and God assured us we would be safe.

I have also prayed on my knees in the small cell with Teresa in Avila; we walked the dirt streets, up the gentle hills through the flocks of sheep and the pine forests to look down on the ancient city walls and look up and pray to the God that loves us all.

Yes, this mountain top I call my Iona of Scotland, my thin place of prayer, is my personal place of pilgrimage. I say this because a pilgrimage is truly nothing more (or I should say greatly more) than a spiritual examination of my personal life and my life-long relationship with God.