A Different Kind of Journey: Lessons in Letting Go
My fiancé excitedly said to me one day, “Honey, let’s make a pilgrimage.” Surprised and intrigued, I was instantly on board. He was inspired by a radio story about the Via Francigena in Europe, but thought instead of making a pilgrimage across the world, we could make one in our own backyard. We quickly mapped out our route, trusting that God was calling us on this little expedition. We decided to walk twelve miles from one church in his hometown to another, specifically to the church where we’re getting married. We then set the date, giving ourselves about three months to prepare.
Like anything carefully planned, I had certain expectations. While I didn’t expect something extraordinary, I was hoping for a spiritual awakening. Over the past few months, I’d grown apathetic towards my relationship with God and I wished for something to reignite my faith.
In order to get what I wanted from this pilgrimage, I decided I needed to dive deep back into prayer. Even though I had good intentions, I was too hard on myself and had unattainable standards for someone who was having to relearn how to pray. I became frustrated and grew even more closed off than before. As the day of our pilgrimage approached, I started to wonder, “Why am I even doing this? It’s not going to make a difference.”
When the day came, I tried to set aside my discouragement and put on a smiling face for my fiancé. We got off to a great start but after a while I noticed him lagging behind. I didn’t think much of it and gave him his space. As we approached mile three, he stopped me and said, “Honey, I hate to say this, but I can’t keep going.” I was shocked but kept my composure. He told me his legs were cramping and that it was too painful to keep going. I was devasted, but I had to trust him. We called his parents, and they took us home.
All at once, back at his parents’ house, my expectation, frustration, and hope for this pilgrimage poured out of me in a flood of tears on their front porch. My fiancé gingerly sat beside me, knowing what this day meant to me. I let it all out, forced to let go of my idea of what this day would look like. We sat there for a while and discussed our options. We weren’t about to give up, but I was not willing to head back out there that same day; I was still gutted. We decided to rest up, let my fiancé recover, and give ourselves the grace to pick up where we left off the next morning.
Kayla Hart, @hartofsilverr.
The next day came and it felt like déjà vu. We got up at the same time, prepared our water, and got dressed in practically the same clothes. But that day, I was not worried about what would happen. I’d squashed my expectations.
His parents dropped us off where we left off the day earlier and before we knew it, it was just he and I walking along quiet country backgrounds. We continued for the next nine miles, praying the Joyful Mysteries, talking with each other, or walking in silence while the occasional vehicle passed by. It was a glorious day filled with little moments of wonder and awe, peace, and an end-of-summer breeze. We arrived at our destination just as the noon-time bells were ringing, as if the church bells were welcoming us home…
I started this journey hoping for a spiritually charged, life-changing experience, but God had something else in mind. I did experience that reawakening I was longing for, just not as I had expected. Instead, He gave me quality time and good conversation with my future spouse, peace and serenity in the openness of farmland, rest from overwhelming wedding planning, and a precious reminder of his Divine Providence and generosity. He stripped away every bit of my initial expectations so I’d be able to receive what I needed, and then some.
When we solely focus on what we want or how we want it, we close ourselves off to how the Lord desires to move and work. There’s a temptation to build up expectations for how you want something to go, even something as simple as daily prayer, but often we need to step out of our own way to truly receive.
It is humbling to witness all your plans crumble to pieces before your eyes, but it is even more liberating to let the Lord put the pieces back however He wishes, in an even greater way than we could’ve ever imagined.
Meet René Schulze
René is in a very exciting season of life as she is engaged to be married in December 2020. She looks forward with hopeful anticipation to the ways God will teach her and challenge her through the sacrament of marriage. Professionally, she works in foster care and adoption and is looking to start graduate school next year to continue in social services. She enjoys moving her body through exercise, reading spiritual books, baking, and macramé! Some of her favorite subjects to study are Theology of the Body and Catholic Social Teaching. You can find her on Instagram @ohhey.rene.