Last night, I stayed in a village named Granon. I went there because I wanted to stay in a particular albergue (hostel) that was in a church. It was a longer walk that day…27km. I didn’t know much about the albergue but I was determined to stay in it.

Granon is on this lovely hill surrounded by fields of sunflowers. I made the last stretch of that walk on a hot day with little shade. As I arrived in town there was a lovely little park with a food truck set up. I stopped and had a small beer and a cup of melon to rest and enjoy having made it to my destination. After a short respite, I looked at the map on my phone and saw where the albergue was and I started to walk towards it. I knew the directions said it was 1km out of town so I left town and walked down the hill. All of a sudden I felt like I wasn’t going in the right direction. I stopped and looked at my phone map and realized I went the wrong direction. I looked at the hill and wondered if I really wanted to walk back up it…wouldn’t it be easier and more practical to walk to the next village? No! my soul said. We are staying in the church albergue! So I crawled back up the hill, and followed the directions down a different road that led me 1km downhill and out of town. I arrived at the location, and it was a lovely structure with crosses on it…but it didn’t feel like a church. Nonetheless, I went in and asked for a bed. I was given a tour, showed my bed and told I can check in and pay once I am settled. I sat on the bed, about to change my shoes and once again I felt no, this isn’t the place. I took out my trusty guide book and see that I had once again gone the wrong way! I had clicked on the wrong albergue on my phone. I sat on the comfy bed, the promise of a shower just feet away and a nap following it weighed heavily on my mind. But once again my soul said No! We are staying in the church albergue! So wearily I stood, hoisted my pack back on, and humbly went down to tell the hostess I had made a mistake. And I walked another kilometer back up hill.

Then I found her. The church my soul was longing for…the church my soul would not let me miss. I walked in, go up centuries old stairs uncertain where they would lead me, and I entered an upper room that felt like home. Even though I was seeing it for the first time, I felt like I had always know that space. I saw some friends I had made earlier on the trail, shared hugs and laughs with them, got myself checked in, set up my sleeping mat, showered and took a nap. When I awoke from the nap, I was filled with that deep sense of peace and protection. It felt like the safest place in the world for me to be. It felt like home.

I went back to the upper room and sat at a table to write in my journal, and one of my fellow pilgrim pulled out a guitar and we all started singing songs together. So many different languages and accents singing Leonard Cohen and Paul Simon together.

Then our hostess invited us to help prepare dinner. A dozen of us jumped in, washing the produce, making a salad, setting the two long tables, and washing the dishes as we go. Tedious work filled with the joy of sharing it with another. We gathered together at the two tables and enjoyed a simple, but heart warming bean soup and salad, Rioja table red wine, and peaches. The conversation lively and the laughter as steady as our breathing.

After we all shared the task of washing the dishes of 36 people, wiping down the tables and putting away the extra chairs, we went into the balcony of the sanctuary and had our own worship service. Tears, awe and more hugs. It was a shared sacredness.

Going to sleep last night and all of today I am filled with a sense that I had a very real foretaste of what the Kingdom of God is like…what it will be like when we all get to that place where we are fully in the presence of God. All of us having traveled our own paths, made our own pilgrimages, from the Americas and Africa, Asia, Europe and Australia…gathered together in the pure delight of fellowship with God and with one another. Together, celebrating the accomplishment of each one having made it to our destination and enjoying the shared-ness of life together.

I wept as I packed my bag this morning. Tears of sheer gratitude for having that experience. It was a passing moment that was eternal in the transcendence of beauty, peace and love. And as my feet carried me once again down that hill, my soul was rewarded with the most beautiful sunrise I had ever seen.

The Kingdom of God is always worth the extra steps. And when we realize we have found ourselves in the wrong direction, the grace of God is always available to empower us to find our way back.