It takes two days go get home from the Faroes to Houston.

The first leg was a drive from Torshavn to Vagur early in the morning through high winds and rain. The route was via two tunnels through mountains and another under the sea.

We flew from the Faroes to Copenhagen where we had a seven hour layover. We took a taxi from the airport into town to have coffee with a woman who had been our barista at our favorite coffee spot in the Faroes.

She is now a medical student in Copenhagen, and we’d kept up with her between trips. We had an extraordinarily joyful reunion. How unlikely that three women aged 20 to 80 from Georgia, Texas, and the Faroes who met sipping coffee in Brell Cafe would be friends?

Returning to the Copenhagen airport, I had a first at security. Who knew that anointing oil in a carryon would set off alarms? The agent looked curiously at the silver stock, and I signed a cross on my forehead and said, “Priest. Healing oil. Prayers.” After conferring with another agent, she gave it back to me with a shrug.

A walk through the airport included a stop at the Lego shop. Denmark is the home of Legos, and the airport has a shop in at least every terminal. Alas! None of the Lego kits on my grandson’s list was available.

My very best friend was in a serious car wreck several years ago. She has had amazing healing, but cannot walk long distance without great pain. We arranged travel assistance at the Frankfurt airport, and two carts whizzed us from our gate to the front door of our airport hotel.

After a good night’s rest at the airport hotel, we are preparing to board our flight to Houston in a couple of hours.

The first journey of my pilgrimage to retirement is nearly done.

I found spaces to not hurry, good nights’ rest, and time to knit and water color everyday. I rediscovered how much I enjoy walking in beautiful places where it’s not hot. I loved the surprises of ever changing sky and beauty around every corner. I found pauses to read and pray.

Space. Beauty. Pause. Surprise. Movement.

A good start.

On our drives around the islands, there are many lovely churches.

Timber churches.

Churches with beautiful door openers.

Churches with turf roofs and windows stained with the reflection of the sunset sky.

Until today, doors locked tight.

This morning, my best friend and I set off for the northernmost point of the Faroes accessible by car. We knew we would pause for worship somewhere along the way.

We found a beautiful place to stop and do morning prayers from Daily Prayers for all Seasons. As we finished we heard church bells down the road.

We followed the sound of the bells.

The church door was open, and we joined our Faroese neighbors for worship.

As I sat in this exquisite space it didn’t matter that I couldn’t understand one word spoken or sung. My spirit understood perfectly.

The reverence of the people gathered (so many and all ages). The thoughtful architecture. The hymns accompanied by an organ where the congregation embraced being the choir.

During the sermon, I could pray and look at the beauty that surrounded me and let that be the voice of God.

No one greeted us but I felt welcome.

No one gave instructions, but I knew when to stand and to sit because of those surrounding me who did so with such familiarity that it was like a choreographed dance.

It was if everyone had in their spiritual dna to answer the ringing of the church bell and pause and worship God.

It wasn’t a party. It wasn’t a social hour. It was a people being with God.

And children were present.

One of my favorite movies is Enchanted April. After a long train trip and and a carriage ride through a rainy night to an uncertain destination, the heroine awakens and opens the curtains. Light and color and beauty fill the room.

After two days of travel, this is how I felt this morning when the sunrise in my garden room woke me up.

I said good morning to God and the sheep who live next door.

After a slow start, my best friend and I did the very short drive into Torshavn for a Faroese breakfast at our favorite morning cafe.

It’s my third trip to the Faroe Islands. The first trip was after Hurricane Harvey, and I was full of grief. I wanted to see the islands in a place of joy and returned in 2021. When I was planning my retirement, I knew this was the place that I wanted to start.

I love being in this beautiful place with more sheep than people that is off the regular path for most travelers. I’ve been here enough that it feels away yet like home.

My best friend and I have planned a no plan day today to allow our bodies to catch up with our souls.

I’ll have another cup of coffee as I enjoy the quiet beginning of this day and thank God one more time.

Yesterday afternoon my best friend and I boarded a Lufthansa plane for a nine hour flight to Frankfurt. We had a few hour stay over at the airport before boarding another one hour Lufthansa flight to Copenhagen where we had another few hours stay over before boarding a two or so hour Atlantic Airlines flight to Vagur in the Faroe Islands.

You really, really have to want to go to the Faroes. Which my best friend and I do—this being our third trip.

This trip is the beginning of my retirement travels. I’m still sorting out in my head what it means to not have an endless list of things left undone at my job. Now I’m discovering a new rhythm of priorities and spiritual practices.

Leaving the quotidian is a good way to shake up and reframe.

And what better place than Frankfurt, Copenhagen, and the Faroe Islands?