” With rock piles and signposts, mark the way home, my dear people. It is the same road by which you left.”
~Jeremiah 31:21

Summer is the time of travel. Even if folks aren’t going on vacation or literally traveling, the rhythm of days is often varied enough that it feels like a different path. Perhaps it is that ‘school year’ mentality that is planted in us at an early age that causes summer to become the season of freedom, of blessing, of out-of-the-ordinary. We allow even the most regular of activities to become a little lax, slowing down, playing more than we normally allow. Summer becomes a kind of excursion all its own. It is good, very, very good.

At some point of the last few months the words of the prophet Jeremiah have been showing up all over the place for me. We have read them in worship and I have stumbled over them in other summer reading. Frankly, I’ve always loved this book of scripture so I am always excited when these challenging and poetic words fly across my radar screen. And these short but powerful phrases above, from the end of this ancient text, capture my imagination.

First of all, they remind me of the towers of stones I have witnessed on travels to Scotland and Ireland. These piles of stones called cairns can be seen dotting roads and paths and can be glimpsed on the ledges and tops of hills and mountains. Their presence is meant to mark experiences that people had along the way. They are ways of pointing out to others that something important has happened in just that spot. These building block statues both mark the place and point the way. They can become a language for telling others that the travelers that preceded them had indeed been there and were now, perhaps, on their way home.

The other part of this scripture that draws me in is the statement: “It is the same road by which you left.” I think of how often we believe we need to leave home, leave ourselves, or our families, to find that vista that is just beyond our view. There is something about being human that gives us the wanderlust to always believe whatever it is we seek is out ‘there’ someplace. Why is this? Most of the stories that shaped us, those myths of the hero or heroine’s journey prove that this urge to set out for a land of promise in which we will be transformed is not far from the surface in any of us.

Myth aside, I remember when our first son was born. I remember thinking as I held him and looked into his beautiful, perfect face, that he came into the world with all he needed to become his true self already planted within him. It would be our privilege as parents to watch him blossom and come to know the gifts that were already stitched into his cells, his personal DNA. We could help create a map and offer tips for the journey but he had his own compass. I believe this is true of each of us though individual circumstances of environment might alter the ability for some to evolve into their fullness. We have all known folks who are burdened with a life that seems too difficult, too fraught with obstacles. I pray God’s blessing upon them and on their labored journey.

Each of us, blessed in our own uniqueness, are always winding our way toward that place we call home. Sometimes this is a literal place and other times it is toward some peace we long for within, some place where we can softly settle in and not struggle so. I imagine the people Jeremiah was writing to had similar experiences, similar longings. All of us, in this human body having a spiritual experience need those rock piles and signposts to mark our way. With each step we remember that the way home is often the same path we left. In that realization we find the way and call it holy.