How do we heal our severed human family, so sorely divided, and make a home for the ones who have been cast out and cruelly isolated?

Wanderers, explorers, pilgrims, and wayfarers—we have always been a migratory species. From our nomadic beginnings to our treks across mountains, deserts, and vast uncharted oceans, our ancestors traversed every habitable continent of the planet. Natural curiosity, combined with an insatiable hunger for connection, still inspires explorations of the ocean floor, the stark face of the moon, and even the infinite, inscrutable expanse of the visible universe.

Across this world in constant motion, all of us hunger for acceptance and understanding. The epic journey has long been the archetype for our unfolding self-awareness. A deep yearning to belong lies at the heart of every spiritual pathway to fullness of life. This draw toward unanimity allows us to taste the intimacy of communion that we call “sacred” or “holy.”

Well-being is the fruit of welcome and inclusion, the commonweal that makes us whole. Estrangement and alienation stand in complete contrast to our lifelong quest and deepest desire for home and wholeness.

While our pilgrim planet makes her lonely circuit around the sun, consider the miles you have traveled in your brief sojourn. Call to mind the countless voyagers en route at this very moment (on foot, in the skies, in ships and vehicles of every kind), so many souls in transition, seeking knowledge, opportunity, safety, welcome, and that elusive state of being we call “home” that blends our “being” with our “longing” into belonging.

How do we heal our severed human family, so sorely divided, and make a home for the ones who have been cast out and cruelly isolated? Holy people make us feel at home. Pilgrims we all are, and hospitality, that prime virtue of every faith tradition, is the welcome that makes us well and opens the door to healing.

For us, this is a dawning threshold of the new day.
For others, it is a twilight of endings, long darkness beckoning.
For some the storm has passed, while others only sense the distant rumblings.
For those ready to receive,
“now” is a fulcrum, between all that was and might be,
that presents pivotal questions:
How can we stare into the face of infinity and not be enlightened?
How do we connect this moment to the next?
How will we greet this day and handle its possibilities and
perils with care?
Every dawn brings tending and attending;
unexpected realities to embrace; tears and laughter to share;
conflicts to resolve; worries to hold; bodies, minds, and souls to
nourish.
But first, the deep breath before we plunge into presence.
On the brink of each bright moment,
let that initial exhalation be thankfulness.
Then, in darkness and in delight, we might proclaim with hearts
unhinged:
Thanks be to Thee,
Source of all we can see!