I look at my watch
as I walk into church:
6:54.
I glance
at the bulletin board
to find the Mass times.
The earliest is 8:00.
Well, it's a good thing
I brought my Bible with me.
I pass into the main body
of the Church
and take a pew
near the center.
As I kneel,
I let out
a deep sigh of relief.
"My yoke is easy
and My burden light."
Indeed it is, Lord,
indeed it is.
-------
I sit down on the couch
in the common area
of the Hostel
in disappointment.
I had hoped
to be gone by now.
After taking a bus
all the way to the airport
and back for nothing,
I still have to wait
until tomorrow
to even book a flight.
Oh well,
I shouldn't complain.
I ought to be happy
that they're closed on Sundays.
Besides, maybe
I can finish this book.
I open
The Pilgrim's Regress
to the beginning
of Chapter One,
skipping the Prologue,
which is a rare thing
for me to do.
I have that strange feeling
that there's some
deeper reason why
I'm about to read this book.
I feel that sense of urgency
that often comes
when it is clear
that the Lord
desires something of me.
Why He would want me
to read this book
at this time
I don't yet know,
but His call
is unmistakable.
Perhaps it will shed
some light
on my own pilgrimage.
-------
I pause
between chapters
to stretch for a moment,
and I realize
that it is getting late.
I glance at my watch.
7:12.
Whoa.
I've been engrossed
in this book
for the last
six-and-a-half hours.
I better go into town
to get something to eat
before everything
shuts down.
Most places
probably aren't open as late
on Sundays.
I put my bookmark
in the pages
and head to the room
to grab my jacket.
-------
Had I not already
known better anyway,
reading this book
at this point
in my journey
would be the last straw
to make me
reject the notion
of pure coincidence.
What are the chances
that I'd happen
to stop into a used bookstore,
and find this one book
among tens of thousands,
then begin reading it
while still in Ireland,
where I ought to be
spending my time
savoring the last days
in this beautiful land?
Surely the odds are slim.
It's remarkable
how much light
John's pilgrimage
is shedding on my own.
It's as if C.S Lewis
had seen into the future
and written down
a bit of allegory
to describe my travels.
And, of course,
although I'm not finished
reading it yet,
I know what will happen.
John will have traveled
all that way
only to discover
that he had been sitting
on the answer all along.
Likewise, I am beginning
to realize the same.
I set out
looking for answers
that God had been trying
to give me from the start.
Coming here got me out
of my comfortable routine
long enough
to open my eyes
and begin to see
God's hand
in the things around me.
To think that God
is always speaking
through the events
and things of the day.
How unfathomable,
yet, at the same time,
how completely obvious!
So often I miss it.
How exciting
the world would be
if only
I would ever learn
to listen for His voice
in every moment.
If only I would look
with the eyes of faith,
I would see that
every street that I cross,
every sign that I read,
every person I pass by,
every dog's bark,
and every star in the sky
are all pregnant
with a deeper meaning
and proclaim
some element
of the mystery
of God's plan.
Lord,
open my eyes,
that I may see
Your hand
in the things, places,
and people around me.
Help me to recognize
Your voice
in the unexpected events
and broken routines.
The whole world
seems new and exciting
as I look expectantly
around me,
and attempt to translate
the hidden language
of God
in what we typically call
the mundane.
The words of a song
come to mind.
"Even the wind
in the trees
is an allegory."
How true.
God reveals His plans
and His mystery
through everything
that is,
if only we would
take the time
to learn to interpret
this great allegory
in which we live.
I look up
from my musings
to realize
that I am standing
outside Abacadabra.
Hmm.
Well, the food
isn't the best,
but at least
I know what to expect.