Sean Dietrich's Pilgrimage
Grueling experiences have a way of taking us to new dimensions of life. That's just part of what Sean and Janie Dietrich learned on their 500-mile walk.
Sean Dietrich, author, columnist, musician, and blogger (Sean of the South), recently walked the 500-mile Camino de Santiago with his wife Jamie. They completed their 36-day pilgrimage four days ago, May 18.
Although Dietrich is best known as a southern humorist, taking a 500 mile walk across Spain greatly expanded his heart and life.
His last column about his and Jamie’s journey reached higher and deeper levels of life. And it is just too good to keep to myself.
The beauty and transformation of their journey flowed from the sheer physical exertion of that 500-mile walk.
Here’s how he wrapped up his column about the end of their trip.
I expected to feel proud. Triumphant, maybe. Like a runner who just passed the finish line. Or a guy who won a game show. I thought I’d be overjoyed with a major sense of completion.
But I felt none of these things. I felt, instead, like a beggar. A small and ragged old tramp, standing before the gates of the grandest palace in all history. Tired, a little humiliated, injured, ugly, filthy, and destitute.
But just when I couldn’t feel any less important, or any more ridiculous, or foul smelling, I see the gates to a Santiago are wide open. Open to me. A pilgrim who has been humbled greatly by his journey.
The gates are welcoming me into the most unbelievable city. A city reminiscent of another yonder city. Where there will be joy on every face. Where I will receive new clothes, new shoes for my battered feet, and my heavy pack will finally be removed.
Where the Great Shepherd will prepare a table for me in the presence of my enemies. And anoint my head with oil. My cup runneth over. A place where surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. And ever.
I hope you will find time over the next few days to drop in here and read the whole column. It’s short, but carries a magnificent payload.