Dave Dishman

The rolling hills of Northern Spain do my heart good. The path rises and falls through heights covered in forests and dotted with farms. I dodge dairy cattle as farmers move them from field to barn and back again. This countryside is one reason pilgrims adopted Psalm 121 as the Pilgrim’s Psalm:

I will raise my eyes to the hills; From where will my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. He will not allow your foot to slip; He who watches over you will not slumber. Behold, He who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord is your protector; The Lord is your shade on your right hand. The sun will not beat down on you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will protect you from all evil; He will keep your soul. The Lord will guard your going out and your coming in from this time and forever.

All sorts of people walk to Santiago through uncertain conditions. Some take months, while others (like myself) spend a week or so on the trail. As I trudge up and down these Spanish hills under both sun and rain, I enjoy the Lord’s creation, and revel in his goodness for placing me here on this very day.

Just like I meander on this trek, I also wander through life. In the midst, the Lord keeps my feet steady. He remains my keeper, my shade, my bodyguard, and the giver of life. I raise my eyes to the hills, knowing that my help comes from the maker of all heights, from our magnificent God who neither slumbers nor sleeps.

Psalm 121

Photo: Fields along the Camino by pilgrim David Dishman

My wife and I are in Europe, preparing once again to walk the Camino de Santiago.

The Camino de Santiago is an ancient path across Northern Spain, traveled by Christian pilgrims for over 1,000 years. It’s a thin place in our world, a location where it is somehow easier to gain a sense of the eternal. The prophet Jeremiah wrote, This is what the Lord says: “Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls.

We’ll walk roughly 70 miles in 6 days, following the final leg of the Camino. Although the distance is long and the walking at times arduous, I do indeed find my soul at rest. There’s something about taking step after step, all day long for several days in a row, with my phone stuffed away in my backpack, that puts my mind and heart in a different place.

You don’t have to travel to Spain to benefit from ancient paths. The Holy Scriptures provide an ancient path, one starkly different from the roadways laid out by modern philosophies and social media chatter. When standing before crossroads, which we seem to arrive at over and over, ask the Lord for the good way, the ancient way, the way that leads to rest for your soul.

Jeremiah 6:16

Photo by former pilgrim David Dishman (my son)

The trees here in Colorado finally emerged from their winter sleep these past few weeks. I love it when the view from my upstairs window goes green as the ash tree outside fully leafs out. Trees bring shade and beauty and joy. I’ve planted lots of them over the years, and each one that grew to maturity became a friend.

The Psalms speak of trees. In a song of praise King David wrote: Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice; let the sea roar, and all that fills it; let the field exult, and everything in it! Then shall all the trees of the forest sing for joy before the Lord.

I love the imagery of trees forming a choir. The symbolism is metaphorical, revealing the great joy all of creation will exhibit at the coming of the true king. But now that it’s spring and trees are in full bloom, it’s not hard to imagine them swaying and singing together.

Will trees literally sing for joy? I wouldn’t bet against it. Anything is possible with the Lord, and singing trees seems like something he would enjoy.

Psalm 96:11-13

Photo by Jan Huber

One summer in Hungary our family traveled across the country by train. The day was hot, our assigned car was packed, and we sweltered with only an open window for ventilation. Overwhelmed, our three year old daughter looked around and started to cry. As my wife comforted her and I took care of our boys, I thought, this is going to be a miserable train ride.

Then the unexpected. A lady sitting across from us pulled a few cherries from her luggage. Hungary produces fabulous cherries, and these were cold and fresh. She shared one with our daughter whose eyes lit up. The rest of that long afternoon our daughter shared a seat with a Hungarian angel and happily munched on cherries.

Sometimes good things come to us we neither expect or deserve—like the kindness of a stranger.

The good people of Malta hosted the shipwrecked passengers and crew from Paul’s ill-fated voyage across the Mediterranean. The chief man of the island (Publius) poured on the hospitality. Then Paul returned the favor: It happened that the father of Publius lay sick with fever and dysentery. And Paul visited him and prayed, and putting his hands on him, healed him. And when this had taken place, the rest of the people on the island who had diseases also came and were cured.

Along with healing the sick, Paul preached during his three month stay. The gospel spread rapidly and many people followed Jesus. According to tradition, the shipwreck and subsequent work of Paul and his companions launched the faith in Malta which continues to this day.

For no reason of their own God blessed the people of Malta. Sometimes God blesses out of the blue (or in this case, out of the storm). I don’t know what’s coming, nor can I plan ahead for its arrival. Like a cold cherry on a hot day, I can simply enjoy God’s favors when they arrive and remain grateful for His continued goodness in my life.

Acts 28:1-10

Photo by Anna Bratiychuk