Pilgrims of Hope

For as long as I can remember, I have had an almost sinful hatred of blisters. 

I mean, come on. Breaking in a new pair of shoes? Blisters. Going on a long hike or run? Blisters. Pushed it a little too hard in those cute but not comfy heels? Blisters. Weird sweaty feet in shoes that have never hurt you before and suddenly? Blisters. 

We’ve all been there. And they are so annoying! And painful! And if you’re anything like me, one of the most frustrating parts about them is that they are so small. It’s not like you broke your leg or twisted your ankle, or had some dramatic major accident for everyone to see, and yet they can completely sideline you from activity until they heal. They can be an ever-present reminder with each step you take. They are small, but they are mighty. 

But it wasn’t until recently that my frustration with blisters led me anywhere other than the band-aid cabinet. Meditating on this year 2025, which Pope Francis has deemed a Jubilee Year of Hope, I have been thinking a lot about what it means to be “Pilgrims of Hope.”

And I associate pilgrimages with blisters. 

A few years ago, I was blessed to go on a walking pilgrimage along the coast of California between some of the Franciscan mission sites. And, I’ll be honest, I went in to it way too confident. I consider myself a fairly active person. I walk, run, and hike on the regular. I’ve run a half marathon, and played college soccer. I am no stranger to the aches and pains of repeated strenuous physical activity. So a walking pilgrimage? Sounded like a walk in the park. 

But for whatever reason, probably the Lord’s, nothing had prepared me for that walk. 

Let’s define our terms a bit. A pilgrimage necessitates a journey. It necessitates travel. It normally includes traveling to a sacred destination, and pilgrims are those people who are crazy enough to go along for a ride. 

But a pilgrimage is not a vacation. A pilgrimage necessitates work. A pilgrimage necessitates struggle. A pilgrimage necessitates challenge. A pilgrimage, in fact, is a long walk but not one in the park. 

And let me tell you, my pilgrimage hurt. 

Compared to other common pilgrimages worldwide, like the Camino, we weren’t even walking that many miles a day, but those miles we did put in wrecked me. My body ached, my head throbbed, my mind went crazy, I smelled so bad. 

But guess the worst part? My blisters. Don’t even get me started. 

I remember hobbling along, so frustrated that my tried and true tennis shoes weren’t doing the trick. I remember feeling so defeated and humbled that me, a college athlete, was in tears over these tiny insignificant points of friction on my feet. It would have been so much more glamorous to have a visible wound or injury, something that had a cool story connected with it, would gain me the pity of my comrades, and would socially excuse me from the activity. But being sidelined by blisters?

But this has given me a lot of food for thought. So here’s a little taste.

I think a main part of the beauty of Pope Francis’s proclamation, is that it reminds me that my life as a Christian is a pilgrimage. I am on a journey, every day, to a sacred destination. Earth is not my home. Whether you’ve walked an acclaimed pilgrimage before or not, surprise! You’re on one in this very moment.  

And I don’t know about you, but while I walk the pilgrimage of life, I definitely encounter struggle. Suffering of any kind, seemingly unanswered prayers, lack of fulfillment, the effects of my own free will and others, habitual sin, results of the fall, the list goes on and on. We are all familiar with suffering.

And not all, but a lot of these sufferings along the way of my pilgrimage are unseen. They are hidden, they are small, they can seem insignificant. I can get angry at myself that they are so crippling. They may never be recognized or acknowledged by others. They’re not flashy or attention-grabbing. 

And yet, I notice these sufferings every step of the way, every step of my journey, every step of my pilgrimage.  

These are my blisters. 

So I invite you to contemplate, what are yours? What are those small rubs of suffering that the Lord is inviting you to joyfully walk through? What are the unseen crosses He is asking you to carry with Him? In this Jubilee Year of Hope, what are the trials and challenges that Jesus is asking you to surrender to Him, placing your hope and trust in His presence throughout it all?

What I didn’t mention about my pilgrimage experience was that, even three boxes of bandaids later and having to wear flip-flops for a week of recovery, the ending was beyond worth every step of pain along the way. 

And that, my friends, is only a taste of the Destination planned for us that’s yet to come. 

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"Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, what God has prepared for those who love Him."

- 1 Corinthians 2:9

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