When we visited Oban on holiday in September we gazed across the water to the Isle of Mull, jutting out either side of the smaller island of Kerrera that sits across Oban’s Bay. We saw a little more of its shores when we went on an hour-long seal watching tour. Once we had committed to coming back to Oban for a month to serve with Hope Kitchen we knew a visit to Mull was a must!
However, what was initially planned as a day out across to Mull quickly became more than that. Stepping back into our pilgrim-shoes that had seen us adventure to so many special places across Europe – Rocamadour, Santiago de Compostela, Rome - we found ourselves on a pilgrimage to Iona. As with all pilgrimages we were looking for something more; something that has driven thousands of Christians to make the journey to this small remote Hebridean island since the 7th century.
Here’s a little more about our journey to these remarkable islands in a vlog from Andy.
What met us as we stepped off the ferry onto Iona’s jetty at Baile Mor, over the lapping waves, was a sloping sandy beach, a small cluster of homes, and several community buildings. On this chilly November day there didn’t seem to be many signs of life. However, the welcome we received from those we met and chatted to; at the Iona Craft Shop (where we bought delicious coffee), those tending the community allotments and the lady manning the visitor centre at the Abbey was so warm and accepting.
As we wandered through the Abbey buildings that are still standing, I definitely could see the pull that St Columba and the first monks felt to this beautiful place. God’s nature stands on proud display, exposed by the lack of development, noise, and the other trappings of urban life. You are surrounded by lush green fields, giving way to waters that are an everchanging palette of greys, blues and greens, then the striking rocks of Mull reflecting the weak winter sun. In some way I found it easier to identify who I was as a child of God, stood in such a raw place where God the artist, the creator had formed such a landscape.
Inside the Abbey’s cloisters I found myself sat on a bench that had the words ‘Be Still’ engraved in them. I paused, and prayed, letting the peace of where I was wash over me. Other than my children, husband and in-laws, I had the place to myself.
The words of my favourite Psalm – 23 – came to my mind – The Lord is my Shepherd… Iona is certainly a place where you can feel God encouraging you to rest, to let Him lead you by still waters, to let Him guide and comfort you. This feeling was echoed around the various places I stood on the Isle of Iona that day, and I know that whenever I read that Psalm I will be transported back to the shores of this remarkable place.
I hope this won’t be my last visit to this tranquil stretch of land that has seen so many followers of Jesus raised up and sent out.
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