Category: Travel

  • Travel Light

    Travel Light

    The unfortunate art of perfectionism began in my heart as a child. I never liked making mistakes. And, although the sensitive heart of a child to wrongdoing is a good thing, lingering guilt sucked me into continued silent confessions. On the flip side, chapel sermons taught me that penance had already been paid. It’s part of the radical story of God—that the riches of His kindness, tolerance, and patience lead us to repentance. (Romans 2:4). Nonetheless, after confessing my sins, I often remained a guilt-carrier.

    “Please forgive me for…” And then, came God’s gentle response: If I thought you could have gotten it right all of the time, I wouldn’t have had to send my Son to die. His tender words put a “knowing” within my heart, and a hike near the town of Westport in Ireland (see photo) illustrated it.

    As I descended the mountain path (see video) of Craugh Patrick, I passed a man beginning his upward trek barefoot, as a physical act of penance. The difficulty of the steep, rocky path had required me to use hiking poles and strong boots for every difficult step. Where would I be if God required me to do penance for my offenses against Him? Physically, I’d still be on that trail. Spiritually, I’d be living a dull and defeated Christian life.

    But God paid a great price to take the penance out of repentance so I can travel light. This humbles me and gives me confidence to trust as I anticipate every next threshold with Him.

    The Treasure: “A life fully surrendered to God, has nothing to fear, nothing to lose, nothing to regret.” (Pandita Rumabai, India)

    If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:

    This is the trail up Craugh Patrick in Ireland. The rocky trail came all the way from where the water is. It’s been a rough journey up—lots of rocks as you can see in front of me. And the important thing has been to take one step at a time as you come up. It occurs to me that in the new seasons of life when we cross thresholds into new places, sometimes the way across the threshold is really hard. It means something has happened that’s been painful, or it means something is taking a lot of emotional or physical or spiritual work. But, when we take one step at a time with God, it’s worth it because we come to new places. And we come to beautiful vistas when we stop and look back at what has been and where we have come from. But it’s not an easy trek. Pandita Rumabai of India once said, “A life fully surrendered to God has nothing to fear, nothing to lose, nothing to regret.” So, as you go into new seasons and as I step over thresholds into new seasons, it takes courage—it takes somebody bigger than us—it takes God to help us through. May we take one step at a time, not hurry the process, and know that it’s all part of a big story arc that God is accomplishing in us.

    Share this post:

  • The Hill of Slane

    The Hill of Slane

    I like quiet places. That’s why I said “yes” to a faith pilgrimage and crossed a threshold into the back countryside of Ireland. Celtic readings, reflection questions, and Scripture reminded us we were more than tourists; we were pilgrims.1

    Saint Patrick knew about crossing thresholds. Irish raiders had kidnapped the sixteen-year-old from Britain and sold him as a slave-shepherd. Seven years later he escaped, returned home, studied for his ordination, and returned to Ireland as their first missionary. On a place called Slane Hill, Patrick made a powerful and dangerous declaration that freed many to worship God.2

    Patrick’s courage on Slane Hill can inspire us to take treasures from the impossible parts of our stories, put words to them, and speak freedom into the lives of others.

    Our pilgrimage took us to Slane Hill. Sitting on the ruins of the Franciscan church and monastery (above photo) reminded me of the brevity of life and opened my heart to a world of opportunity. I felt joy on the Irish side of my threshold—great joy. But, as you know, joy and sorrow can be. close companions. They are for me, as I mark Steve’s departure from this life three years ago.

    Solitude in Irish beauty reminded me that the “ruins” of sorrow can be sacred if we honor them. We need not fear our tears. In time they can add vibrancy to our next burst of joy. Feel the winds of Ireland (in video) as you ponder your next threshold.

    1. Eugene Peterson, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press), 2000, 22.
    2. https://www.discoverboynevalley.ie/boyne-valley-drive/heritage-sites/hill-slane-coming-christianity

    The Treasure: When our strength is in God and our hearts are set on pilgrimage, valleys of weeping can become springs of replenishment for us and others (Psalm 84:5).

    If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:

    In some ways I have stepped beyond a threshold. I’ve stepped beyond the fence, left Pilgrim at home. She has waved good-bye. I’m still a big part of her and she’s a part of me. But she’s not where I get my security; she’s not the main story. God has helped me move through a threshold, to step into a new season beyond deep sorrow and into new life and new joy. Sorrow will be a part of it.

    I am on the outskirts of Dublin at a place called, Slane Hill, where St. Patrick came to be missionary to the country where he was once a slave. I am really intrigued by his courage and by the power of God that happened as a result of his courage in the lives of many people. So thresholds are something we step over—step through a door—step into a new season of life. And the thing about thresholds is that sometimes you can never go back because you’ve changed; you’re different from the person you were once before. These are beautiful countryside places—quiet—to come away from the contamination of thoughts that can be so distracting. We’ll be talking more about thresholds in the future.

    Share This Post: