He packed his bags and said all his good-byes. It was time for his last journey. There were tears and clutching, wailing and beseeching, so many reasons why he needed to stay. His only reason to go he said was, “because.”
At first light, he left his home, locked the front door, and didn’t turn back. One foot in front of the other, his burden eased with each step. The sun warmer, the breeze sweeter, his heart and mind at peace with his decision.
He made his plans, drew his maps. He had a direction and a reason for where he was going. He wouldn’t allow anyone to join him or follow him. This was a mission he could only do alone.
Friends and family tried to guess, tried to discover his route and waylay him. They worried they said, they were only trying to make his journey easier they said. He responded with pity. They didn’t understand, couldn’t understand. They could not know where he was going because they could not fathom his longing.
They waited for him on the mountaintop, believing he yearned to be closer to God. He didn’t want to stand on the peaks, shouting into the wind, demanding attention and praise.
He wanted a quiet peace, a stillness that came only from knowing he was where he was called to be.
He followed the trail into the valley, down into the heart of the world, where he sought comfort and belonging. Where he could hear the voice of God speaking from Her heart. Where he could feel the rush of the icy spring as it surged through the earth’s crust, where he could touch the last ray of sunlight as its heat faded from the sky.
He wasn’t wandering alone and lost, he was traveling home with a purpose.