NeuroDivine

Not every journey is straight.

Some of us live by detours.

Some of us measure time in appointments, recoveries, resets, and the quiet courage it takes to begin again.

This new hymn was written from within that kind of landscape.

It blesses the roundabout and the restart. The traffic light on a rain-washed street when you are already tired. The waiting room. The long pause. The breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

It blesses dust and morning dew—the sensory world that can overwhelm and also awaken. It blesses labour done carefully, slowly, imperfectly. It blesses the tending of small things when energy is limited. It blesses the body that carries you, even when it feels fragile or unpredictable.

At its heart is a Celtic image of Christ as anam-cara—soul-friend. Not distant. Not impatient. Not demanding a straighter line. A companion who walks at your pace. Who circles round your wandering steps. Who keeps watch through the night when sleep won’t come or thoughts won’t quiet.

The hymn lingers with the Spirit in waiting spaces. It makes room for the truth that some pauses are heavy. That some journeys feel lonely. And still—that no stop and no start falls outside God’s embrace.

This is a blessing for those who travel the world differently.

For those whose faith is woven through endurance.

For those who need gentleness more than exhortation.

Blessèd are all who walk God’s way
on paths both old and new;
who find the Holy in the dust
and in the morning dew.
Where barley bends beneath the breeze
and rivers shine with light,
God circles round our wandering steps
and keeps us through the night.

Blessing on homes where kindness dwells
and hearth‑fires warmly glow;
where welcome flows like ancient wells
the saints of old would know.
At roundabouts of daily life,
at crossroads worn and wide,
may Christ, our anam‑cara true,
be ever at our side.

Blessing on all whose journeys wind
through towns and quiet ways;
who pause at lights in rain‑washed streets
and lift their hearts in praise.
For every stop and every start
is held in God’s embrace;
the Spirit breathes in breathless waits
and fills the waiting place.

Blessing on labour, craft, and song,
on harvest, hearth, and hand;
on those who tend the living earth
across this island land.
From bog and hill to river’s bend,
from shore to stony lane,
may all who walk the pilgrim path
know blessing yet again.

O Christ, whose light outshines the stars
that wheel through midnight skies,
whose glory shimmers on the waves
and in our hearts will rise;
all heaven’s host proclaims your name
in silent, singing flame,
and we, with all creation’s choir,
give praise to you the same.

Text copyright 2026 Michael McFarland Campbell. All rights reserved. Inspired by Psalm 128.