Drawn Before Dawn: Witnessing the Walk for Peace
Feb 10, 2026Up at 3:00am. On the road by 3:30am.
Dark - cold - country roads - black ice - no specific directions. U-turns and navigating with wrong info. But at 5:35am we see the vehicles and arrive safely.
Why are we doing this? What is the reason?
We stand in the dark waiting. Not sure what to do. The sheriff says, they move in their own time. He mentions something about 7:00am.
It's 16 degrees outside. Back in the car to wait.
What is the desire here? Why the yearning?
People begin to arrive and we gather outside the church.
What a joy to talk to these people. Georgia, Ohio, Raleigh. A Lakota woman from North Dakota! She brings a bag of socks and some extra cash to give. People are holding bags of oranges and bouquets of flowers.
Why are we gathering?
The anticipation rises with numb feet, frozen faces and the longing for warmth. The sun shows its first light.
With no fanfare, no introduction, no announcements - They come. Slowly, carefully quietly. They come, down the steps - into the cold. They receive the offerings of flowers and take their places for morning prayers and chant.
Standing in the frozen road, their voices rise.
What are these words they sing? Maybe committing their day to the purpose of peace through their walking? Are they asking for strength?
And when they are done, they turn and begin walking.
My body came alive and I wanted to walk too. My legs were ready. The path ahead was inviting. But this walk was not for me to join. Time to say good-bye and hug those around me. It's time to return home.
I had come to see the monks.
Why did I come?
What did I feel? At this moment a sense of gratefulness. No big fireworks. No big revelations. A sense of calm.
What is this? What is stirring inside of me?
I am moved by their example of dedication to peace. This act of walking in prayer is a dedication. (I know it is not easy. I know how miles of pavement is especially hard to walk on. The cold. The blisters.)
What arises in me is a deep, primordial yearning to be in the space of peace.
The monks carry it. They know it. They live it.
My tears carry the grief I feel for our country and the state that it is in. The pain burns deep. Worn out by the judgement and disconnection of privilege to look away.
In the quiet of this moment, I sit here enveloped with a peace that passes all understanding.
What is my place in this? How do I integrate this into all areas of my life?
The monks have taught me by example to return peace to whatever is presented. A simple smile when steeped in peace is so powerful. They do not react or have a platform to prove their message. It is modeled.
I know I am angry and sad and grieving for repair. I do not want to be complacent, but the power of peace is palatable. The boldness of their peace is wrapped in warmth.
I saw the monks. I experienced their message of peace.
The Holy Mystery of what draws us. Our willingness to lean into the yearning when we don't even know the purpose. As a spiritual director it feels timely and important to grow our capacity to hold space for peace to enter as The Holy Mystery.
Friday January 30, 20206
-Melody Diehl, Psychotherapist & WTC Year Two Spiritual Director-in-Training, Virginia
(Image created by ChatGPT 2/10/26)
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