under a big sky

We are in Montana! A little town called Butte to be specific. It's a rough character place full of the "good folks". Jessica, Amelia, Naimh, and I are staying with the Freemans. They are such a beautiful family and such an encouraging example of a christian home. Last night we played several rounds of Cornhole (which is definitely an East Coast game) and sat around a fire talking for hours. Mr. Freeman let me take my first sip of mead! Shh... don't tell anyone. ;)

The Northern Walk left Seattle, Washington on May 22. Can you believe we have covered over 300 miles since we began walking for Life? Barely two weeks have passed, but I feel like this is all I've ever known. Our team has quickly become a closeknit family. God could not have chosen a better dynamic.

{our team before Naimh joined us from Ireland}

Here is how our system works..
There are 11 people on our team. Seven girls, four boys. We split into two groups. One walks all day, the other walks all night. Within a group we divide further into two groups of 2 or 3. One of these groups hits the pavement to knock out 15-20 miles of walking, while the other group stays in the support van and jumps ahead every five miles to make sure the walkers are safe. When the first group of walkers are finished, the van group trades and begins their trek. At night the 11 of us come together at the RV for dinner and evening prayer. Then the night shift has their turn with the road. In the morning, we usually meet at the closest church offering daily mass. Afterwards, we all have breakfast and morning prayer together and the routine begins again.

I never expected walking across the country to be so taxing. Go figure, right? I thought we would meander along the highway at a leisurely pace, happily waving to the passersby as we share our peaceful witness.... I was so wrong. We aren't walking. We practically have to run to make good time and not get behind. Our feet are peppered with blisters, and some of us are limping because of pulled tendons and swollen muscles. If it's raining, we walk. If it's cold, we walk. If we hear coyotes off the road, we walk. Nothing can stop us. Unless it's road construction. :/ Sometimes we hear rude honks as people flip us "the finger". Other times people want to make sure we notice them and scream profanities. A few days ago a car tried to run a walker off the road. However, support for our mission far outweighs the honks and profanity.

On the weekends we stop in major cities to pray before abortion mills and planned parenthood clinics. Last week, we made our last stop at a clinic in Washington. Two elderly gentelmen (obviously Catholic) were setting up large posters of Our Lady. When it became clear that they were protesting the evil occuring within the clinic, our group crossed the street and they joined us in praying the Divine Mercy Chaplet, along with a couple of rosaries. It was a beautiful thing to stand in peaceful solidarity with these two strangers. That little hour did more for my morale than hot food, sleep, or sympathetic honks could acheive.

For all the positive response and prayers offered on our behalf, I still struggle some days to give this mission my all. It's terribly humbling to watch the parishioners of these towns empty their pockets to support us, and know that inwardly I should be doing so much more. There are days when I have forgotten completely why I am on the road. It just matters that I am there and that I finish as quickly as possible. If it weren't for the graces we recieve by attending daily Mass and reciting the rosary, I'm not sure I could do this. Sometimes the only coherent thought I can conjure up is a mantra I use to propel myself into the next milestone: "It's all for the babies. For the sake of your powerful wounds, Jesus, give us strength". On the hardest days, I have repeated that prayer over and over, step by step, mile by mile. Usually when one finds himself in pain or out of breath, he can stop and rest for a while. Rid himself of what ails. Not here. Here you endure, you sacrifice, and you pray. Wednesday we walked through a chilly downpour. The cars on the highway only increased our discomfort. We were constantly sprayed by tires and blasts of wind. I made the mistake of wearing shorts, and honestly I wanted to cry I was so miserable. To get me through the pain I prayed that every drop of rain could be transformed into a soul saved by our sacrifice. I know we saved souls that day, and every other day we have walked. There is no question that our prayers and our witness are turning hearts and changing minds. I thank God he gave my heart such a passion for Life.