Journey of an Aching Heart
A man’s travelogue, as he embarks on an Orthodox Christian pilgrimage on foot with no food or water through Greece and the Balkans.
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The Return to Saint Paisios
It was strange to me, and I questioned it until it
became too strong to deny. I prayed about it, and personally
did not feel that it was something that made sense, but I
acknowledged an urge to return, so I set out one rainy
afternoon for Souroti following the same steps that I had taken
over a month before. That night I slept at the same tiny church
next to the highway, but this time it was much different. I was
wet, I was extremely tired, I was frustrated because I
questioned going all the way back to Souroti, and worst of all, I
couldn’t fall asleep because it was so cold. Bodily exhaustion
and lack of sleep mixed together crush me as a person and that
night I reached my breaking point. Hugging my chest and
curled up in the fetal position, I told God that I couldn’t
continue on like this and I begged him for help. At this point, I
had walked well over 350 kilometers. I would fall asleep in 15
minute increments and wake up freezing to continue the
broken-hearted prayers of a weary soul. The next day,
everything changed. What happened seemed so far outside the
realm of possibility that every moment for the following three
days was a priceless gift and a great blessing to my soul.