I has been nearly 25 years since I had hiked carrying a back pack (or sac a dos au Francaise). Then, it was a much heavier pack and I was carrying a rifle. It was so much easier when I was told what to do, what to carry, and did not have any idea how far we were going. It is so much more difficult when you are told where to go, but how fast, what to carry, and where to stay are your choice. I this case God has told me start here and go there and I am 50 years old; but, the “how to dos” are left to me. Anyway, I now find myself in Saint Privat D’Allier about 15 miles from Le Puy currently saying Lord why did you send me. My shoulders are sore, my legs unsteady and I must take tender steps when I stand up from sitting because my muscles scream that they do not want to move any more.
So, this morning I had to rush to get to the pilgrim’s mass at 7 am. I woke up with more than enough time, not having the best sleep on a single bed, but not the worst either. I began my morning devotional and the next thing I know, I only have 20 minutes to finish packing, eat, and take the three minute walk to the cathedral. Anyway I am glad that I did not skip breakfast: bread (oh French bread), butter (ohhhhh French butter), jelly, OJ, and a bowl of coffee with milk. Obviously not because of the grandness of the breakfast, but because of the intimacy of the moment of 15 to twenty people most of them strangers to each other in the small common dinning area being led by Georges singing ‘Ultreia’ (look it up if you want to know–in French of course). At first, I was amazed that all these people just knew this song specifically for ‘le chemin’ and I was thinking well it just must be one of those ‘French’ things. Then, I saw someone sing the song, apparently, as they looked at piece of paper and realized. “I have one too!” So, luckily I was able to join in during the last half. The number of pilgrims at mass amazed me, about 200. First there was the regular mass for the city parish and the pilgrims alike. Then, afterward, was the pilgrim blessing by the bishop. Out of about 150 people I was 1 of 3 Americans (the bishop asked & counted), about 8 Canadians, a handful each of Brits and Germans, and the rest were French. Really far more people than I expected.
As I began my walk, I started up with such excitement that had built up over the last months, but particularly the last week. However, the excitement eventually gave way to the reality and my thoughts for the journey became more clear. I remembered a challenge given to us by our Pastor at Carmel Presbyterian, Rich Duncan, had given us about 2 1/2 years ago. I had started but did not finished memorizing the Book of Romans Chapter 8. I have decided to every day memorize the next verse of Romans 8; so, that by the end of this journey it will come out without thought from my mouth. I also lay down this Gauntlet to anyone out there reading.
Finally, walking through the French countryside again has been refreshing. For so may years, I have seen how Americans farm their land in big industrially run farms. Huge fields are farmed at one time. It has its benefits as we are able to feed humans all over this world; but it is not very personal. Here farming is very personable each farmer has a plot or plots of land seal off by rock divisions and their crops are raised without irrigation. It just leads to a feeling that the people of the farming regions of France have a much closer touch to their land.
I ask for your blessings. This journey is a little more daunting today than it was yesterday.
And I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” Then I said, “Here I am! Send me. And he said, “Go, and say to this people: “‘Keep on hearing, but do not understand; keep on seeing, but do not perceive. Make the heart of this people dull, and their ears heavy, and blind their eyes; lest they see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their hearts, and turn and be healed.” – Isaiah 6:8-10.
Kurt Ferguson 