Inner Pilgrimage

Somewhere along the road of life, by the grace of God, my soul woke up, and its hunger became a fire, a fire that consumed me, ate me up, with its intense, devouring heat. 

I could not rest anywhere except in motion—in a motion that led me to God. That is how I began the journey inward, that long, endless journey that every soul must undertake if she is to meet her God. 

 It is a strange journey, across arid plains and verdant valleys, and deserts—a journey of many crossroads and endless sharp turns that confuse and clamor for a rest. But the hunger for God knows no rest. So I go on and on and on. 

 Yes, it is a strange journey that slowly makes me shed all the baggage I took for it—the baggage I took for it before I knew that it was too heavy a load for this kind of journey. I don’t know where I left it—somewhere back there by some crossroad. Now I am baggage-less, but somehow still too heavily burdened. 

Journey Inward, Catherine Doherty

This is the first part of a poem by Catherine Doherty. The first time I heard it, probably 25 years ago, I was riding home from a conference in New Orleans with friends. My friend Betsy had bought a book which included this poem, and she read it to us. I was thinking, "No thanks. Not for me. I'm not there yet and if I ever get there, it will be a long time from now." Well, I was right, and now it's been a long time.

There is more, and I plan to post it soon, maybe tomorrow, but you see how frequent my posts have been lately, so we'll see how that works out.