Today was my last day on Iona, and with the afternoon off I decided to go exploring. To find the old marble quarry that used to be in service but no longer was. I had a map. Sort of. And directions. More or less. So I set out.
The island is not that big. And the first part went very well, covering ground I had walked across already as a part of the pilgrimage. From there I was supposed to take another path. I looked for the path. And made it to the bay before deciding I hadn't seen it. So I went back to the lake looking again. Still no path. So once more towards the bay. Nope. No path. This time on my way back to the lake I decided to climb the hill towards where I though that quarry was to see if I could see the path.
Across the bog and up the hill. Still no sign of the path. But, I could see the next hill. So there I went. Sometimes thinking I found a path. It wasn't. It was a sheep trail or a stream or a particularly boggy area that had tamped down the grass. So I got very muddy and rather wet. And never managed to find the path.
But I did find the quarry. Down between two hills towards the south end of the island. It was beautiful and striking to see all the rock left laying about waiting but never processed.
When I started back towards the Abbey - still not on any discernible path I began to think about what we do when there is not path forwards.
Do we just turn around and go back? Do we give up? Do we find the nearest high point and look ahead? Do we forge our own trail? Do we stop and ask for directions? At what point is turning around the best option?
Far too often in life, and our faith lives, it feels like there is no path in front of us. The direction is uncertain. And in many ways, these are the moments that define us. Where we place our trust.
So, what do you do when there is no path?
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