the finish line

Jennings, FL

We happened upon another revival last night, and were invited to come in. Good music and energetic preaching (with a bit of dancing thrown in). The pastor that organized it even asked us to come up at the end and be prayed over, and he anointed us with oil on the forehead and hands. I'll always remember him for his unusual praise exclamation—Halelu-yeaaah!

Then this morning a woman arriving at the church we slept at found us just finishing our breakfast, and recognized us as the walkers she'd seen on the road. "You seemed to be having a great time," she remarked. She left to take her son to school and returned with a friend who wanted to meet us, and we talked enthusiastically for about an hour. A good, encouraging conversation to send us off this morning.

Then one more seven mile stretch and we arrived at the sign that marked the finish line of my first pilgrimage. For the past week I'd been remembering experiences along this road, and now we arrived in this small town where my parents had come to get me at the end of my first walk seven years ago. It seemed right to end this walk here as well. Mom and Dad were glad to come get us; they walked into the library just as I was typing this.

We've heard that housing space has opened up at Plow Creek now, so we're thinking about the possibility of going back there soon, to start preparing for the retreat work that we've been telling everyone about. Maybe after a few weeks of rest. It's been a long road—more than 1400 miles over three and a half months—and a very good one.