Shelter

New socks, new hope 

Rain. Scotch mist. Mizzle. Drizzle. All the weathers. Except sun. Of course. Had to be. Leaving Iona it was not possible to look back and see anything had I wanted to. But as the curtains of mist descended the only possible mindset was to look forward in hope than to look back with yearning. 

Thank goodness for the Church. After five miles of trudging through constant wet, I sought shelter in a Church of Scotland parish church in Bunessan. Carpeted and inviting, it also had a working and available blow heater!! Everything got dried. New socks, new hope. 

Shelter has been much on my mind. When you are weary and wet and have no money for hot drinks and an excuse to sit in a cafe, where do you go. I found myself thanking God for all the Places of Welcome, all the Warm Spaces, all the Food Pantry projects and FoodBanks across the British Isles. Places for people to be known and loved and strangely warmed. 

Walking, you are made so much more aware of vulnerabilities and the huge dependence we have on the basics of shelter and warmth. 

When you are weary, what lifts you? The last mile is always the hardest. And I was losing strength. Fifteen miles in and a mile to go, I caught sight of an eagle soaring above Loch Scridain. And Isaiah 40 came to my rescue, motivating me to push through that last mile:. 

28 Do you not know?
    Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
    the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
    and his understanding no one can fathom.
29 He gives strength to the weary
    and increases the power of the weak.
30 Even youths grow tired and weary,
    and young men stumble and fall;
31 but those who hope in the Lord
    will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
    they will run and not grow weary

Thinning

Thinking about ‘thin’

This pilgrimage is between two ‘thin’ places, Iona and Lindisfarne. Places where heaven touches earth in such a way that there seems barely a tissue paper separating the material and the spiritual, suggested Iona Community’s founder, George Macloud. 

Centuries of the practice of prayer in particular places may have something to do with this. A practice rooted in a sense of both earthly vulnerability and deep trust in the divine.  

Certainly these windswept islands are so vulnerable to the elements that they appear to have been worn thin by wind and wave and rain and sun. Thin in profile against the might of the sea and the vast space of sky. Green and grey squeezed flat by all hues of water, above and around. 

If pilgrims are drawn to thin places, do they become thin people too? And what does that mean? I think this is part of what I will be exploring these coming days. I expect to lose weight! But I expect also to become more vulnerable, less in control, more open and agile, more trusting in God and less weighed down by preoccupations. 

I wonder what you think about ‘thin’ places and ‘thin’ people? 

Till travelling days begin

Walking in Aidan's footsteps

'The horizon shrinks as you walk backwards from it, and the horizon expands as you walk towards it.' (Shane O'Mara, In Praise of Walking, pg75)

There is something so rewarding about walking, which we learn from childhood and those first early steps of freedom. It is to do with the idea of 'expansion flow' - how forward movement expands our horizons. Seeking to lay hold of the future is one of the main reasons we learn to walk facing forwards. This forward-facing attitude also speaks about the Way of faith. 

One of my favourite verses in all of Scripture is found in the apostle Paul's joyful letter to the Philippians. Here is his most horizon-expanding approach: 'Forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.' (Philippians 3.13-14)

In the coming days, I will be walking in the footsteps of St Aidan (590-651). His horizons expanded as he travelled (by foot on an unknown route) from Iona, off the west coast of Scotland to Lindisfarne, in the north eastern tip of Northumbria. Straining forward, this Irish-born follower of Christ brought a new joyful and hope-filled way of life to the people of the North East. He walked everywhere, refusing horseback alternatives. And he would daily recite the psalms as he walked.

From July 31st to August 31st (which is the Feast Day of St Aidan), I hope to walk more than 300 miles between the two holy islands. I have set myself the challenge of learning the Psalms of Ascent (Psalms 120-134) off by heart! These are known as Pilgrim Psalms, recited by those who pilgrimed to Jerusalem for major feasts - psalms which Jesus would have known off by heart too.

I hope to blog from time to time with thoughts and photos of the landscape (as my phone signals and internet allow). As I strain forward, letting go of what went before, walking towards the rising sun each day, I look forward to sharing what I am learning. Please feel free to add your comments and share your insights.