Last Sunday was a special day – not because it was a particular calendar date of any known significance, and not just because Sunday for many humans is a “day of rest” we call “The Sabbath.”

Last Sunday was special because a groups of Lutherans, Methodists (and a few cool connoisseurs of Creation who prefer not to be labeled) took an hour or so to wander together in the outskirts of Traverse City, Michigan. We wandered and wondered on a trail that would take no time at all to hike at the “usual walking pace” of two to three miles per hour.

But instead of that clip, we challenged one another to walk at half-speed: the self-proclaimed pace of a “saunter-er.” For an exact definition, see Muir’s words below:

Somewhere in the saunter is a need to leave the struggle of daily life behind and let God’s handiwork do its work on us. That’s not to say life’s struggles are inherently bad. Some might argue they are necessary to find oneself or be found (see Jacob’s wrestling with God or the “angel” in Genesis 32:22-32). But “sabbath” for me is something between an effort to serve one another (i.e. not oneself) with real work, and allowing ourselves to rest in God’s mercy in the outdoors.

The picture I chose for this article above is one from Sunday afternoon’s “End of Summer Saunter” with my hiking friends. And the trek on the Cedar Lake loop trail at DeYoung Barn Natural Area culminates, you might say, at this opening from the deep woods onto a fishing pier and panoramic view of the Lake. On that pier we shared short stories of our lives and what circumstances brought us to this outcrop together.  But looking back, into the woods that appeared dark for just that moment, a different image came to mind: the mystery of what sabbath means, as it opens up a scenic vista within, yet still invites us into the unknown on the remainder of the loop…if only to help us rest, and struggle, to find our true saunter.