Follow your instincts... not the crowd

Crainlarich-Bridge of Orchy

Sunday September 4,2016

Today started out well. The sun was shining (not always the reality here) and despite the pain in my feet I felt otherwise good. The short day the day before had served me well. I was ready to walk! 

The scenery was lovely, and I passed some interesting historical sights including the ruin of an old monastery. 

 

But that's when things went off the rails. There was a fork in the road. And rather than looking for sign posts or checking my map. I followed the two groups ahead of me. 

At first this seemed like no big deal. But before long I'd climbed a hill for about 1.5-2km and the path I was following was gone.  All that was left was field. And more field. And a lot of mud. And some water puddles. And did I mention the mud and field. 

I looked at the groups ahead of me. Still doggedly trying to climb the hill. But I turned and looked down.  Bellow me was a farm house. I figured there at least I could get directions! So I trekked down the hill. Through more mud and water. Climbed a fence and found my way to a path. 

Turns out this was the nice level path I should have been following all along. 

I thought it felt off but I trusted the people ahead of me more than myself. 

How often does something just not quite fit for us be we continue on because it's what everyone is doing?  It seems to me this is the life of faith. Knowing when to follow the crowd and when to say no, that's not quite right.  It's just a little off. We can do better. If we lean a little more toward Christ and a little away from the pack, that, I think, is where we find our sign posts, our path, our way through the wilderness. 

There's always a way if we're willing to trust the one leading us. 

 

It's ok to say no.

Inverarnan-Crainlarich

Saturday September 3, 2016

 

Today was day 4. And a break day for me. Only walking 10km I reached my destination by lunch (all while walking with someone else and a bit slower than my normal pace). And I thought about going onward to make the next day shorter. But I reconsidered. And am so glad I did. I can sit with my feet up for a few hours. Catch up on some writing. Maybe even get some of these posted!! 

And take care of the cold that is threatening me. 

Sometimes it's ok to say that's enough for today. To take a break. To relax. To stop and appreciate what you've accomplished already. 

Today I am at the unofficial halfway point. 

3 long days left (or 4 more reasonable days but more about that later once I decide). 

So here. Halfway across the West Highland Way. I will relax. And rest my poor sore toes. And rejoice in hot tea and some biscuits.  And maybe even find some soup for supper!

 

The theme of the day is mud and rocks

Today is sponsored by Advil. 

Rowardenan-Inverarnan 

Friday September 2, 2016

 

Day 3 was hard. And long. And I was tired. But then a bit of Advil. A whole lotta well here we go. And off again...

 

Today was muddy. And and so many rocks. All the rocks really. Some large ones helping you to cross streams or rivers. Others to cross mud pits. Some to form alms or staircases up and down parts of the hills (surely designed for people much taller than me). And some just to be in the way. 

It got me thinking about obstacles. Those we put in our own way, making our journeys more difficult and those we see as obstacles but are actually there to help us. We encounter both all the time. And some of the way obstacles give way to he coolest things (like finding Rob Roy's cave) and some ease our passage (like crossing some of those streams) and some we make out the be worse than they would have been. 

I was trying to avoid a bit of mud (although by that point there was no reason to. I was very very muddy). And so I stepped to the side on a large rock. Turns out the rain that had made the mud also made the rock slippery. And I fell. Not far or particularity hard (which is lucky as I was walking near a very large drop off down to Loch Lomond) but fall I did. Into a thorn bush. All trying to avoid the simplest of obstacles. A little bit of mud. Scratched up I learned that lesson but wondered about all the other times I (and I'm sure others) make things harder on ourselves then we really need to. 

Somedays you just gotta go through some mud. 

 

The voices in our heads

Drymen-Rowardenan

Thursday September 1, 2016

 

One of the things they don't warn you about on long distance walks is the voices in your head. Who will be speaking to you today? What will they be saying? Will it change moment to moment?

Here, for me, it changes constantly.

Sometimes I found myself singing hymns. Especially the old ones. How great thou art especially. But many others. 

Other times it was Dory (from finding Nemo) she showed up when my feet hurt the worst. Just keep swimming just keep swimming. 

Sometimes it was a drill Sargent. Especially on the large hills. Get yourself up that hill!!

And other times it was actual people! I've met several folks along the way. There was a group of us that all stayed at the first place together in Drymen. And we've kind of been looking out for one another. Some walk quicker than others so you pass each other and then meet again at the end of the day. But when we meet on the trail the faster (sometimes me, sometimes not me) will slow down and chat for a bit. How are things? Etc. 

One couple also from Canada that I've seen a lot of I walked with for a longer period of time on my second day. And it was hilarious how we would all groan at the sight of another hill at the same time. And now I hear their voices too. Just one step at a time. You can make it. One step at a time. 

 

They've joined my cloud of witnesses. They've been my cheerleaders as I've been theirs. 

The voices we hear that support us, offer us guidance and help. Ground us spiritually and give us so much room to do things we never expected. 

I am grateful for all those I hear in my head. Including all those folks from back home who I am missing! 

Here my soul rejoices

Milngavie-Drymen

Wednesday August 31, 2016

 

Have you ever been exhausted and yet so calm or happy or fulfilled that it didn't matter?

This was day one of the West Highland Way. The first day of 154km hike (+ the km to your sleeping destinations no one warns you about). 

The hike was beautiful. As promised. And very tiring. Also as promised. But somehow my soul just lifted. As I crossed my first 10km and entered the actual highlands it was as though my soul has always known this place. I had come somewhere I had been missing and didn't even realize it. 

 

My soul sings in these hills. Even as my feet ache. 

My soul waits on the Lord...or airplane parts

My soul waits on the Lord....

Or airplane parts. 

Monday August 29, 2016

 

Before departing for the 5 weeks of my sabbatical that are to take place overseas I felt myself getting more and more anxious. And I could not figure out why. Part of me was over the moon excited. And part of me thought I have made a terrible mistake and this was a terrible plan. I was both ready to go and sure I would never be ready. 

How often do we all feel like this?  

Once I arrived in Halifax for my 5 hour layover I thought ok. It'll be fine. But I'm not one for waiting.  I hate waiting. Patient I am not. 

And soon my five hour layover was 7 hours. Then 9. Finally, after a 4 hour delay I was on my way again. Anxiety completely gone. Now I was ready. 

It seems that God was reminding me that sometimes, waiting is ok. That I don't have to be in such a rush ALL the time. Sometimes I can relax a bit. 

And an airport full of slightly grumpy yet still pleasant employees and travelers was an excellent reminder of this! 

When God said stay.

Amsterdam has never been on my list of cities to see. It was always one of those, well if I'm there I guess, but wasn't on my wish list. I don't know why, it just really wasn't. So when it ended up being the place we would leave for Scotland from, I thought of it as that. A city to maybe see a bit of while we were there. One day. And then we would catch a boat and head to Scotland. This was the plan. A far as I was concerned it was a good plan. Evidently God thought otherwise. Due to a series of unfortunate events, our boat to Scotland was a day later than we thought. So, we had an extra day in Amsterdam. So, then it became a matter of trying to figure out why. What exactly God wanted us to experience that we would have otherwise skipped.

So we went to the museums (more on that in a later post). And I went to the Anne Frank house. The house she and her family hid in during the Second World War. I remember studying her diary in the 5th grade. But standing where she stood, smelling the rooms she hid in, hearing the church bells ring that she would have heard, all while hiding because of her religion.

It was all so powerful, I'm not sure I can find the words. It certainly brought that diary to life. It gave the war a human side I'd never experienced that powerfully before. The very air of that place changed from when you stepped inside to when you stepped out. Walking through that space had me praying with my whole being. Without knowing how, without any words. It is a series of moments I will carry with me forever. Stepping out into the sunshine, I could only imagine the longing to be able to do that. The desperate desire to feel the sun on your face again. To be able to breath fresh air. It was an occasion to ponder all the ways humanity has managed to hurt one another throughout the years. I kept recalling Jesus saying we should love one another. Giving wholeheartedly of ourselves. How are we as a church doing that now? Who are we failing? How can we do better? How can I personally do better? These questions and more stuck with me through the rest of the day and on our track to our next hotel. It was in a small town near where we would catch the boat. Walking around the small town that evening and the next day allowed me to feel like I had actually seen the Netherlands, gotten a much better feel for the land.

It is amazing all I would have missed, everything I would have passed by. I am infinitely glad God said "stay"