Dear Pneuma,

If we move from beginning to end of life, we are travelling. We are journeying. We are on a path, a road, or a highway. Christ is that road. Christ is that journey. Christ is the shape that marks our passage, as well as the curves and switchbacks that lie before us. Christ is neither destination nor starting point, but is instead the place where our feet meet the contradiction that life is dying, and that death means we live.

Christ is the motion of foot before foot. Christ is the motion of stop to take bearings. Christ is the motion of refill the canteen, catch a breath of fresh air. Christ is the motion of turn back or refuse to go on. Christ is time spent waiting for friends to catch up. Christ is pushing through that last hill. Christ is putting a hand up for help, and dropping a rope down to another. Christ is not how we choose the way. Christ IS the way we've chosen.

Whether we go with confidence, fools with no plan, or whether we Google our pilgrimage and carry our GPS devices and cell phones, we are each walking Christ. The road only knows one way to go-life through death in God; whether we know it or not; whether we move intentionally or because we have been pushed; whether the trip is long and laid back, or short, brutish and hard.

It seems to me not so much that we should follow the Way, but that we try and seek out the most excellent Way: a path that leaves behind a trail of light; that, every now and again, takes the direct route through thorns; a journey of discovery and joy, ever watchful for small things hidden in the grass, because this life is the chance we have-not to reach the mountain top, but merely to walk the mountain.

Thanks for listening,

Cobalt Dreams