I stood shakily, sweat rolling in dirty lines down the skin of my legs, my nose red from the rubbed off sunscreen and my tangled hair sticking to the back of my neck. My maroon bag had turned into what felt like a dusty bag of bricks and both of my pinky toes had blisters bigger that the actually toes themselves. My knees ached.. Oh, how they ached. I looked ahead at the rocky path leading straight up, I cinched my backpack higher against my body, I gulped hot water from my sun kissed water bottle, I gripped my walking stick and with a long suffering sigh, I took my next step. Why?
Because I was a pilgrim and Saint James was waiting.
But, What If…
What if I did not have my ultra light backpack or my quick dry synthetic clothes… What if I had no walking sticks or expensive hiking shoes to cushion my steps...What if the content of my bag actually was the sum of all I owned...
What if there was no bed or church floor waiting at the end of the day…What if there was nothing behind me and only unknown ahead…
What if I had seen my house crumble…What if I had seen people die; my friends, my parents, my husband, my child…What if people looked at me and saw a terrorist...
What if I had nearly drowned...What if my very soul had died along the way…What if the only way to live was continue putting one foot in front of the next…
What if the only way to feed my family and educate my children was to walk through fields and barbed wire, past shouting people and police…
What if every moment of my aching desperate walk was drenched in constant fear and hunger…
What if the only things I had left were the next step and hope…
What if…
I am home now, on the other side of the world, surrounded by the purpose and routine of my normal daily life, but Saint James is still whispering in my ear. "It was not so long ago, Jen, that you were the one in need of help."
This past weekend my husband and I left the busy city and drove through endless cornfields to arrive for a peaceful dusk outdoor dinner overlooking far off horizons. The sun had set brilliantly gifting us a humid deep summer sky dotted with shimmering stars. As others stood in the yard, staring up in awe, I sat on the deck talking with my beautiful, strong foster mom. "Jen, every day will break your heart," she advised in response to my desire to follow her path to becoming a foster parent. She sighed and looked across the field at her star counting husband while the night whispered around us.
"Jen, you are a pilgrim every day. The moment you leave my house, you are still a pilgrim. You still have a path to walk." Saint James assured me. "Will you continue or stand still? Will you offer your help and heart to others or will you look away? What have you learned on your way through your very own field of stars?" Saint James brushed a hand through my hair and with a backward smile, he left me to contemplate the sky.
I am home now, on the other side of the world, surrounded by the purpose and routine of my normal daily life, but Saint James is still whispering in my ear. "It was not so long ago, Jen, that you were the one in need of help."
This past weekend my husband and I left the busy city and drove through endless cornfields to arrive for a peaceful dusk outdoor dinner overlooking far off horizons. The sun had set brilliantly gifting us a humid deep summer sky dotted with shimmering stars. As others stood in the yard, staring up in awe, I sat on the deck talking with my beautiful, strong foster mom. "Jen, every day will break your heart," she advised in response to my desire to follow her path to becoming a foster parent. She sighed and looked across the field at her star counting husband while the night whispered around us.
"Jen, you are a pilgrim every day. The moment you leave my house, you are still a pilgrim. You still have a path to walk." Saint James assured me. "Will you continue or stand still? Will you offer your help and heart to others or will you look away? What have you learned on your way through your very own field of stars?" Saint James brushed a hand through my hair and with a backward smile, he left me to contemplate the sky.
Elvis Presley sang this song over 60 years ago on the Ed Sullivan show in order to raise funds for Hungarian refugees fleeing war and oppression. Today, this song still feels incredibly relevant as millions are on the move to find hope and safety for their families. My heart is with them.
Help! Feel! Empathize! Love!
