It may be disappointing, but contrary to the lyrics of the well-loved John Denver song, “Country Roads” won’t ultimately take us home. It’s not just because relatively few of us hail from the mountains of West Virginia. It’s because the home we hope for and long for most cannot be found by navigating to a pair of geographic coordinates. Only pilgrim roads can lead us there.

Where are these pathways? The Psalmist tells us, “Blessed the man who finds refuge in you, in their hearts are pilgrim roads” (Ps. 84:6). It shouldn’t surprise us that the highways to heaven crisscross the expanses of every human heart. Sadly, too few of us take the time to seek them out and even fewer travel them.

And yet, all human life is, by definition, a pilgrimage. Regardless of how we live and what we believe — or don’t — we are all on a journey somewhere else, somewhere that is at the same time nearer to us than we realize and further away than we dare to imagine. We manage to find rest and comfort in the cherished places we call home, but not enough to still the restlessness that drives us forward and into the arms of the one who made us for himself. Living things move — outward, inward, and upward.

We are everyday pilgrims because we are pilgrims every day. But there is something life-changing about the pilgrimages we intentionally choose to make. Those long-desired excursions away from ordinary responsibilities have the potential to change how we see everything. By taking us out of our familiar surroundings, pilgrimage can bring us closer to our truer selves.

That is why pilgrimage is as almost as old as Christianity itself. The earliest believers searched out the places where Jesus lived, died, preached, and prayed. They wanted to know where the great miracles occurred just so they could be there. Of course, locals have always kept the stories of the saints alive, often building shrines over the places where they encountered God. That is why people today still climb Croagh Patrick, walk the Camino, and visit the house in Ephesus. It is why groups from all over the world pray the rosary in Fatima, and walk through the doors of the ancient churches of Rome.

Pilgrimage is a blessing I hope everyone has the chance to experience. And that is why I am working with my dear friend Alexis Walkenstein, and Bishop Joseph Coffey of the Military Archdiocese to lead a pilgrimage — “Warriors of France” — this October. The plan is simple: to pray our way through France together and take with us some of the wisdom and courage of some of the church’s greatest saints.

This invitation is for you. Perhaps you’ve been waiting for the right opportunity to present itself. Maybe the restoration of Notre Dame Cathedral made you dream about visiting Paris. Perhaps the heroism of Allied troops on the Normandy Beaches has always inspired you. You may have longed to see the house where Therese of Lisieux grew up, or marveled at the stark beauty of Mont St. Michel jutting out into the sea. You may relish the chance to discover great saints like Martin of Tours and Joan of Arc, or prefer to steal away with Bernadette Soubirous at the grotto of the Virgin Mary in Lourdes.

Prayerfully consider coming with me. We may have met years ago at Mass, a parish event, or barn concert, or perhaps we haven’t yet had the opportunity to meet in person. In either case, one thing is clear: there is something special about the people we are graced to call our fellow pilgrims on the way. I’d like you to be among them.

*Republished with permission of the Author