“The life of faith isn’t meant for tourists. It’s meant for pilgrims.” (Eugene Peterson)

I find myself increasingly uneasy. Uneasy with aging, spiritual progress or the lack therefore, politics, the future—the list goes on, ad nauseum. More often than I care to admit, I plunge back into confession and repentance, embarrassed by the familiarity of sin. After six decades of triumphing and failing, disappointment and delight, exulting in the glory of the ordinary, I have concluded that restlessness with myself and life itself goes hand in glove with pilgrimage. We are not here to passively observe our surroundings; we are created and recreated to learn as much in this life about ourselves and our God as possible. Rightly responded, all of this (fill in the blank) serves to better fit me for my true destination.