The [Im]Perfection Dare 2- To be a Pilgrim

A scene written in a coffee shop

Once again, I was alone.

My step-family were out for the day, and didn't care what I did whilst they were gone.

My friends? What friends?

Schoolmates? No-one cares.

No-one could fully understand me- why was I closed off to the world? Because they wouldn't understand. Or so I thought.

Red burn marks hid beneath my intentionally long sleeves, marks of where I had given up hope. NO-one knew, and no-one cared. My life, in a nutshell, is nothing.

It's empty.

Empty, and yet so full of pain.

Pain that no-one understands.

The raindrops outside were falling, fast and furious, piercing through those who were outside. Buisnessmen hurried along looking hassled, and women tried to keep their hair dry, hidden from the torrential downpour. It was as bleak out there as it was in my heart, and it showed no sign of stopping. Is the only way out to end it all? I asked myself. There's nothing left for me here.

As a child, I had been told of a God who would never let any harm come to those who believed in Him. But after my mam died, and my dad remarried, I saw no God. He had turned His face from me, and so I turned mine from Him. Treat others as you like to be treated.

I was living on the outside. The rain had not ceased, but only grew harder as the night drew in. THe blackness seeped through the streets, and there was nothing.

EVerything came back to nothing now.

But it wasn't just nothing out there. THere was one figure, shuffling along the pavement. No coat on his back, no shoes on his feet- he had nothing.

The coffee shop door swung open as he ambled in. Water dripped from him, and he shivered as he stood. The shop owner rushed to help him, but the man brushed him off, and it was then I saw that he was smiling. 

"A towel would be lovely, and anything you can spare- I am not a beggar, so only as much as you can afford to give."

Wrapping himself in the towel, the man moved towards me, where I sat by the fire. 

"Good warm spot you've got here." He commented, settling down opposite me. 

"So it is." I replied, nervously. I never was any good with strangers.

He stared into the flames for a while, before looking back to me. "Do you wonder why?"

"Why what"

"Why I'm sat here, like a drowned rat, when I could be at home, in the warm and dry, without a care in the world."

I didn't respond, but looked to the fire.

"Do you think me mad?"

"No..."

"Well, I have nothing with me but two things. You share both, and one of these is time. Can you spare the time to listen to me?"

"I've nothing else to do."

"Well then, there's no need to sound too keen, my dear! I'm not a beggar, as you know. THis is deliberate. I'm on my way to Westminster Abbey. From there I go to Canterbury, and then to Salisbury and Sarum. I'm a pilgrim, my dear. I do this for the second thing we share- God. He's everywhere, and in every heart. No matter how hard we try to shut Him out, He will always come back. He's looking for His lost lambs, and I am one of his messangers. Jesus once said "Follow me." And so I do. I walk from parish to parish, church to church, and speak to those I meet on my way. Some will walk with me, even if only for a short while, and we will talk over all kinds of things. I have nothing but God's word with me, and yet through that, I have everything. I can see you've given up. I had too, once upon a time. My dad died, and my mam married another man, who I couldn't stand. He tried to cut me off from my mam, take her away, leave me out in the cold. And I was alone. Or so I thought. But I met a pilgrim one day, as I sat and wondered if life was worth living. He told me "If God is in your life, then your life is not only worth living, but worth more than anything and everything." And I became one of us. I can tell you have a similar story. I won't make you tell me, I would never do that. But believe you me, life is worth living- I know you don't believe you have anything to live for, but you do. If anything, live on for me, and for God. Live on, and live long, and live in God. You are in His heart, and although it doesn't feel like it, He's always there. He has a lot of problems in the world, caused by Evil, and so it may not be straight away that He can help. Keep faith though- He's coming soon, just as I must be going. I have to make it to the Church tonight, you see. Keep your eyes open, my dear, and your heart strong. If you ever need me, my name is John. Look it up on your interweb thing, and you'll find me. My name is John. But before I go, what is yours?"

"Maria."

"Like the mother of Christ. She holds you in her arms. Goodbye, Maria."

"Goodbye John... And thank you."

"Well, thank you. Can you tell me where your church is?"

"It's on my way home. I'll take you there. Follow me."

"So sayeth the Lord."

Once I had left John at the church, I stood out in the rain. What it is to be a pilgrim. To follow God wherever he takes you. 

To be a pilgrim.

Follow me whispered the wind.

I will follow you, Lord. I will go Lord, if you lead me. I will hold your people in my heart.