Happy are the people whose strength is in You, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage. Psalm 84:5
My words…
About this time of year, I bring Mr. and Mrs. Pilgrim out of the attic and set them on my mantle. They’re small wooden figures carved to look like the Separatists who fled persecution by the Church of England in the 1600s. I doubt, though, that they resemble the exhausted, seasick, anxious lot who hobbled off the Mayflower, looking for a place to build a new life. You know each of them by name. You heard their urgent prayers for deliverance. Their hearts burned to worship You in a way they believed was true. Since they couldn’t find it at home, they tucked their Geneva Bibles under their arms and journeyed to the New World. You called Your chosen Israelites to be pilgrims three times a year – journey to the tabernacle or temple to worship You in that special place because the person who sets out on a pilgrimage is not the same person who returns. I’m not sure it’s the worship experience at the end that transforms the pilgrims more than the journey itself. What happens along the way, the dangers and the joys, are transformational.
Like the Separatists and the Israelites, I’m a pilgrim. My feet travel the highway to deliverance, to freedom, to heavenly worship. Thank You for blessing my journey thus far. Joy beyond measure awaits me when You greet me in the New World.
