Gratitude is a journey.
Joy is a journey.
Delight is a journey.
Grief is a journey.
Trauma is a journey.
Illness is a journey.
Chronic pain is a journey.
Discernment is a journey.
Spiritual formation is a journey.
Love is a journey.
Hope is a journey.
We all have mentors or forerunners, predecessors or parents paving the pathways before us.
We all have associates or cohorts, friends or family following in our footprints.
We all have comrades we companion as we circumnavigate.
“God will place people to accompany you.”
A wise woman interjected these words into a recent conversation of counsel.
I ponder journeys and it occurs to me.
We aren’t always aware of our companions until we look back.
We can’t always see significance when it’s striding in step beside us.
Truth told it’s really easy to live by the lyrics from Here I Go Again,
“Cause I know what it means,
To walk along the lonely street of dreams,
And here I go again on my own,
Going down the only road I’ve ever known,
Like a drifter, I was born to walk alone.”
We wait, unaware of the helpers only now passed by.
We pinpoint the problem with laser precision. We perceive a solid solution.
We paste our perspective on the pinnacle and conclude there is no other passage near at hand.
Sometimes we neglect to notice the nuance because we are convinced we have kept all of the law since birth.
Sometimes we turn to try the water from the well only to realize someone has stepped in with living refreshment.
Sometimes we completely miss the magnificence in a manger because we are too focused on what we believe miracles look like.
I watch the jostle of passengers enter and exit the sliding doors of the plain train, each one intent on the next leg of their journey.
Some seem alone in the crowd, the crush, the cacophony.
Others hold hands. Push strollers. Navigate wheelchairs.
Continual motion and a clatter of commotion.
If and when, we can cut through the noise and the clamor, the distraction and the abstraction, the self-deprivation and the urgent, we’ll close our eyes, inhale with certitude, and gently clasp the reminder that we are companioned.
There are companions among us.
Comrades who share from the loaves and fishes multiplied in their lives.
Creators who serve up inspiration and encouragement in silver goblets on golden platters.
Confidantes to hold space for our secret longings and to cite the steps into the next stage.
And often what we name bitter, the Lord calls sweet.
What we proclaim empty, the Lord exalts as overflowing.
What we see as two pennies, the Lord declares a fortune.
What we hoped was a detour is the journey on His way.
And in the Way, when we look back we’ll find we never walked alone.
When you sit in contemplation, your journal and pen in front of you, who might your list of companions hold?