Please note: The reflections and opinions expressed in this piece are those of the author and are shared in the spirit of personal faith and contemplation. They do not necessarily reflect the official views of the Diocese of Palmerston North.
I recently travelled to France on the Lourdes to Lisieux pilgrimage in May 2026. More than a journey, it became a time of grace, blessing and renewal. Before leaving Palmerston North, Danny and I were busy and stretched by work and personal commitments. Our minds were constantly occupied with the next task, and we were struggling to find peace and balance.
I also carried the anxiety of living with coeliac disease. Every meal requires care, as even a trace of gluten or cross-contamination can affect my health, so travelling overseas brought many uncertainties and concerns.
Looking back now, however, I can see that the Lord had planned something different for me.
We met our fellow pilgrims in Paris, including Bishop John, and journeyed together to Lourdes, 25 of us in total. After settling into our hotel, we gathered for our first Mass together in the St Joan of Arc Chapel within the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception. In the silence before the Lord, my mind and body finally began to slow. Surrounded by strangers who would soon become friends, I found myself asking: Why have I come on this pilgrimage? What does it truly mean to be a pilgrim?
In Lourdes, our three days with St Bernadette drew me deeper into where the Lord wanted me: to stop, listen and be there for Him. We celebrated Sunday Mass with about 8,000 pilgrims in the Basilica of St Pius X, prayed the Stations of the Cross at Espelugues, prayed the rosary at the Grotto, experienced the Grotto Baths, visited St Bernadette’s childhood home, and lit candles for our prayer intentions.
I was privileged to carry the prayers of friends, family, our priests and parishioners with me. Seeing such a deep desire for prayer touched me profoundly. During our final Mass in Lourdes, celebrated in St Anne’s Chapel, Bishop John offered the Mass for these intentions. I then realised our fellow pilgrims were also carrying deeply personal prayers, and I experienced the beauty of a community united in faith, hope and prayer.
I knew then what this journey was going to be for me.
Mass at the Sanctuary of Our Lady in Rocamadour, a medieval village of stone houses and cobblestone streets built into a cliff in the Dordogne Valley, was another beautiful opportunity to pray for those intentions. After climbing the steep Pilgrim Steps, we waited for Mass in the Chapel of the Black Madonna as the monks’ morning chant filled the chapel, drawing me more deeply into prayer.
Journeying north led us to Ars-sur-Formans and the Basilica of Ars, where we celebrated Mass and lit candles for our diocesan priests. The chapel where St John Vianney rests was a powerful reminder of what these men give to and for us, carrying the high expectations and demands of their parishes. What a blessing they are! Bishop John was honoured to use the chalice of St John Vianney, patron saint of parish priests.
Travelling to Nevers for Mass, where St Bernadette spent her final years, I felt strongly that she was journeying with me. We expected to celebrate in the chapel where she rests, but were taken upstairs to a stark, old-fashioned room with wooden floors, chairs and a small altar. Then we realised it was where St Bernadette spent her final days and died, saying: “Mon Jesus!… oh, que je l’aime” (My Jesus… oh how I love Him!). What a powerful, grace-filled moment for us all!
Our second week saw us visiting the parish of Saints Louis and Zelie Martin, discovering the lives and faith of the parents of St Therese of Lisieux, before travelling on to Lisieux to spend time with the Little Flower.
Mass in the crypt of the Basilica of St Thérèse, surrounded by marble and mosaics depicting the important stages of her life, left me deeply moved, inspired by her faith, and grateful to pray in such a sacred place.
Visiting the Carmelite Convent and learning more of St Thérèse’s life, as a child and as a Carmelite sister, gave me precious time to contemplate her “Little Way” of finding holiness in simple acts of love. In the quietness of this sacred place, I sensed again why pilgrims leave comfort behind: to encounter God, renew our purpose, and see His presence in the ordinary moments of our lives.
Pilgrimage is not always easy: there were moments of tiredness, uncertainty, food anxiety and distraction. Yet even then, I experienced a calm that drew me back to God and helped me reset, refocus and trust the One who does have the answers.
Sharing our spiritual journeys with fellow pilgrims was a gift. We were blessed to travel with such faith-filled people, and the friendships we formed continue as we keep in touch, share prayer intentions and support one another in faith.
Recently, our parish was blessed to venerate the relics of St Carlo Acutis in the Cathedral of the Holy Spirit. Carlo’s words stayed with me: “Sadness is looking at ourselves, happiness is looking towards God”.
The “Lourdes to Lisieux” pilgrimage was heartfelt, enriching and deeply spiritual. If you ever have the opportunity to travel on a pilgrimage, embrace it. You may be surprised by what the Lord has waiting for you.
“The pilgrimage didn’t end when I boarded the flight home—it continues in how I live now.”
