When you walk through the storm
Hold your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark
At the end of the storm
There's a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of the lark
Walk on, through the wind
Walk on, through the rain
Though your dreams be tossed and blown
Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone
You'll never walk alone
Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone
You'll never walk alone
Hold your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark
At the end of the storm
There's a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of the lark
Walk on, through the wind
Walk on, through the rain
Though your dreams be tossed and blown
Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone
You'll never walk alone
Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone
You'll never walk alone
I found myself humming the fantastic version by David Phelps (my favorite tenor right now...praying I get to see him in Boston this next week!) on the last half of my walk last night after a graced encounter with a stranger out for a walk.
This person stopped me to ask directions to Boston Road, and I said I was heading there. I felt like one of those running gurus who pick up followers on the way. When I introduced myself as Father it immediately framed the conversation. There was a lot of hurt from a past experience of the Church.
It's moments like these that make me know that God is the one in control. But I am also deeply saddened and frustrated in some of my predecessors. I can't tell you how many people have left the Church because a priest once told them when they were young that they were going to hell. I don't want to accuse every priest, or judge pastoral situations, but it's happened so much and the stories are too frequent to deny that this was the message given to so many people.
Instead, I believe in a God that always walks with us, even when we are unfaithful. He's always calling us back to himself. Perhaps this was a step back in the right direction. And at least for the last half of my 4 mile journey last night, I knew God was walking with me.