When I ended my first pilgrimage in Santiago de Compostella four years ago, I wasn't sure I'd ever do anything like that again. My feet were tired and my soul was full, but mostly I was tired. And yet there was a piece inside that knew I would come back and finish the part I skipped if it was within my power.
Here we are in June 2018, and my flight to Pamplona leaves in 4 hours. Over the course of the next 5 weeks, my friend and I hope to the walk 720 km from the City of the Bulls to the City of St. James on the Field of Stars. I'm nervous because of the hot summer that is predicted and because of the 14 blisters I had last time, but I'm excited to show someone else this path that has been so important to me and to spend focused time with the Lord again. Truly the Camino de Santiago has become a thin place.
So here goes nothing! Pray for health and stamina and quality time with Jesus.
Thursday, June 21, 2018
Monday, July 14, 2014
Day 26: Santiago.
Day in one word: processing
Wow. Arriving in Santiago was spectacular. On Saturday, my camino family and I got up at 3 am to walk a chunk of the final stage by moonlight. It was stunning and really nice to have the roads to ourselves again. Without any open restaurants, we had no reason to stop as often and make excellent time for 20 km. Gyeong Sun and I got a bit ahead of the pack, but we stopped to wait for them all once we saw the spires of the cathedral, and I'm so glad we did.
The atmosphere was truly set for us what with bagpipe music as a welcome and the square still relatively empty. We whooped and cheered as we made our way to the center of the plaza in front of the church and allowed ourselves to fall backwards onto the pavement. Sitting propped up against our backpacks in a straight line, we just chilled and stared up at the western facade (full of scaffolding, of course); with the rising sun glowing behind it, lighting up the low puffy clouds, it was a moment to remember. Pictures were taken, hugs were given, and the moment was savored before we quickly moved on to the pilgrims office to get our certificates of completion.
We crammed into the noon mass with hundreds of other pilgrims, and my wish came true because they lit and swung the botafumeiro right over my head. Then we looked at all the traditional sites inside the church: the portico of glory that has the marble handprint column, the sepulcher with the relics of St. James (supposedly), to name a few. The most memorable one in my mind will be the Door of Pardon though, which is a rare eastern entrance into the cathedral only open in holy years (next one in 2021). As Viktor and Ana explained it to me, entering through that particular door means all your sins ever are forgiven. We all gave each other skeptical looks, though I realized it was for different reasons when Ana said, "if only it were that easy." I'm sure I scared her half to death when I nearly jumped out of my skin and shouted, "But it is!!! You just say to Jesus 'Please forgive all my sins,' and he does!" A nun shushed me, so we didn't really get to finish our conversation until later that night, and it wasn't as deep as I'd hoped, so I'm sad about that. And sad about the lies. Grace is free to us and forgiveness simple, and look at the complicated mess it's been made into.
So, I can't say that I enjoyed the cathedral of Santiago all that much (although I do recommend the coolest roof tour ever). The church of San Francisco of Assisi was a better experience as we attended a special pilgrims prayer service led by a Franciscan monk. That was actually quite moving, probably because we were given real time to pray for ourselves and together. We ate a ton yesterday, I watched Germany win its fourth World Cup, we've cried our good-byes, and my month-long trek really is coming to a close.
I still can't believe I'm here, sitting in the square right now, listening to Celtic music. I'm grateful to God for his protection and guidance, for the continued healing of my feet. I love my new friends, and I'm thankful for the work in my heart. He has definitely written onto my blank canvas, filling it with nose kisses and truths. I'm sure the processing will go on for many days, weeks, and months.
Thank you for journeying with me. Thank you for praying and sending daily notes of encouragement. Thank you for all you've added to my life. I hope to spice up these blog posts with pictures to the corresponding stories in the next week or so, so feel free to check back. And who knows, I'll probably find more to write about concerning the camino soon.
Wow. Arriving in Santiago was spectacular. On Saturday, my camino family and I got up at 3 am to walk a chunk of the final stage by moonlight. It was stunning and really nice to have the roads to ourselves again. Without any open restaurants, we had no reason to stop as often and make excellent time for 20 km. Gyeong Sun and I got a bit ahead of the pack, but we stopped to wait for them all once we saw the spires of the cathedral, and I'm so glad we did.
The atmosphere was truly set for us what with bagpipe music as a welcome and the square still relatively empty. We whooped and cheered as we made our way to the center of the plaza in front of the church and allowed ourselves to fall backwards onto the pavement. Sitting propped up against our backpacks in a straight line, we just chilled and stared up at the western facade (full of scaffolding, of course); with the rising sun glowing behind it, lighting up the low puffy clouds, it was a moment to remember. Pictures were taken, hugs were given, and the moment was savored before we quickly moved on to the pilgrims office to get our certificates of completion.
We crammed into the noon mass with hundreds of other pilgrims, and my wish came true because they lit and swung the botafumeiro right over my head. Then we looked at all the traditional sites inside the church: the portico of glory that has the marble handprint column, the sepulcher with the relics of St. James (supposedly), to name a few. The most memorable one in my mind will be the Door of Pardon though, which is a rare eastern entrance into the cathedral only open in holy years (next one in 2021). As Viktor and Ana explained it to me, entering through that particular door means all your sins ever are forgiven. We all gave each other skeptical looks, though I realized it was for different reasons when Ana said, "if only it were that easy." I'm sure I scared her half to death when I nearly jumped out of my skin and shouted, "But it is!!! You just say to Jesus 'Please forgive all my sins,' and he does!" A nun shushed me, so we didn't really get to finish our conversation until later that night, and it wasn't as deep as I'd hoped, so I'm sad about that. And sad about the lies. Grace is free to us and forgiveness simple, and look at the complicated mess it's been made into.
So, I can't say that I enjoyed the cathedral of Santiago all that much (although I do recommend the coolest roof tour ever). The church of San Francisco of Assisi was a better experience as we attended a special pilgrims prayer service led by a Franciscan monk. That was actually quite moving, probably because we were given real time to pray for ourselves and together. We ate a ton yesterday, I watched Germany win its fourth World Cup, we've cried our good-byes, and my month-long trek really is coming to a close.
I still can't believe I'm here, sitting in the square right now, listening to Celtic music. I'm grateful to God for his protection and guidance, for the continued healing of my feet. I love my new friends, and I'm thankful for the work in my heart. He has definitely written onto my blank canvas, filling it with nose kisses and truths. I'm sure the processing will go on for many days, weeks, and months.
Thank you for journeying with me. Thank you for praying and sending daily notes of encouragement. Thank you for all you've added to my life. I hope to spice up these blog posts with pictures to the corresponding stories in the next week or so, so feel free to check back. And who knows, I'll probably find more to write about concerning the camino soon.
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Day 25: Santiago.
Day in one word: food
It was spent largely with people, so I still haven't really had time to write down my thoughts, though they're forming. Tomorrow I move into a single room for my last night - hooray! I'll write more then.
It was spent largely with people, so I still haven't really had time to write down my thoughts, though they're forming. Tomorrow I move into a single room for my last night - hooray! I'll write more then.
Saturday, July 12, 2014
Day 24: O Pedrouzo - Santiago
Day in one word: completed
I don't have the words yet as there has been little time to process so far, but I wanted to let my wonderful, supportive readers know that I made it. Thank you so much for journeying with me! More tomorrow....
I don't have the words yet as there has been little time to process so far, but I wanted to let my wonderful, supportive readers know that I made it. Thank you so much for journeying with me! More tomorrow....
Friday, July 11, 2014
Day 23: Arzua - O Pedrouzo
Day in one word: anticipation
The mood among the pilgrims, crowded as we are now, is definitely up from the last couple of weeks. Nacho, who still limps due to extensive pain, smiled the whole way today. People are singing and buying each other drinks, cheering at every kilometer marker that shows we are nearing Santiago. Tomorrow is the day, and the air is rife with anticipation. I'm not sure how I'll react? Will there be tears, or will it just feel like a natural progression, closure to a month of walking? Will I be moved by the spiritual symbolism, or will I be turned off by the cover of man made traditions and excess? I really have no idea what to expect.
But I feel a joy to be so near. There is a general merriment as extra money is spent on a bowl of ice cream or a load of machine-washed laundry. No one cleans their clothes by hand now (who wants to waste the precious little time we have left doing that?), yet everyone waits patiently for a turn at the dryer. The snoring at night doesn't bother anymore, and every parting comes with a hug and a kiss because it could be the last time.
I think I'm definitely ready to arrive, not because I necessary want to be done walking (I'm feeling great - pain free!), but because it'll be good to end on a positive note. I'm ready for what is next, even if it means a giant move across the ocean. God has decidedly brought me to a place of anticipation for the upcoming year, and I'm both grateful and amazed at his working.
The mood among the pilgrims, crowded as we are now, is definitely up from the last couple of weeks. Nacho, who still limps due to extensive pain, smiled the whole way today. People are singing and buying each other drinks, cheering at every kilometer marker that shows we are nearing Santiago. Tomorrow is the day, and the air is rife with anticipation. I'm not sure how I'll react? Will there be tears, or will it just feel like a natural progression, closure to a month of walking? Will I be moved by the spiritual symbolism, or will I be turned off by the cover of man made traditions and excess? I really have no idea what to expect.
But I feel a joy to be so near. There is a general merriment as extra money is spent on a bowl of ice cream or a load of machine-washed laundry. No one cleans their clothes by hand now (who wants to waste the precious little time we have left doing that?), yet everyone waits patiently for a turn at the dryer. The snoring at night doesn't bother anymore, and every parting comes with a hug and a kiss because it could be the last time.
I think I'm definitely ready to arrive, not because I necessary want to be done walking (I'm feeling great - pain free!), but because it'll be good to end on a positive note. I'm ready for what is next, even if it means a giant move across the ocean. God has decidedly brought me to a place of anticipation for the upcoming year, and I'm both grateful and amazed at his working.
Thursday, July 10, 2014
Day 22: Palas de Rei - Arzua
Day in one word: goal
What an arduous day. We got a late start and took longer breaks than usual, especially because of having to stop for boiled octopus in Melide. All I can say to that is yuck. Our reservation in Arzua also meant we had to cover nearly 30 km today, so by the time we arrived (after 6), my feet were pretty much done for the day.
It was a glorious day though with sun, flowers, green groves, and deep conversations. One of those centered around a keychain we saw in a pilgrim store that read "The Way is the Goal." (Speaking of goals, weren't the 7 scored by Germany the other night pretty sweet?!?) Both of us decided we agreed with the little saying. If you don't like walking or spending the time to actually be on the Camino, then don't do it. Just fly straight to Santiago if seeing the city is your only goal. Of course the walking itself has to be part of the reason you would even do this in the first place. Where we disagreed, however, was in whether or not the way is the whole goal.
I say the destination, in our case the city and church of Santiago, still have to part of the goal as well, maybe around 10%. Having an end gives purpose to the journey. If the camino itself were the only goal, it would be an aimless path, much like trying to live a vibrant faith without God. In my argument, I likened it to my job as a teacher. There, too, the majority of the work happens in the everyday sweat and tears of worksheets, homework, lessons, and grading. The nine months of learning are so much more the seeming goal than the last two weeks of finals and graduation. But you can't take away those final destinations, or students will ask what the point is? If there is no advancement to the next grade, why even spend that year learning? Now some might argue that the learning itself had value, just as the walking itself has a richness to it, but those values are much diminished if they don't lead to something.
It keeps coming back to faith for me. I've met so many people who are searching for peace or wisdom in personal decisions or meaning in their lives while walking the camino, but they don't want to have to find it in God. Spirituality or philosophy, okay, but they prefer that vague "something inside themselves" over the timeless Scriptures about Christ or the truth of a living God who wants a relationship with them. A goal without a source or a destination. Here's my keychain: "The Goal is so much more than the Way."
What an arduous day. We got a late start and took longer breaks than usual, especially because of having to stop for boiled octopus in Melide. All I can say to that is yuck. Our reservation in Arzua also meant we had to cover nearly 30 km today, so by the time we arrived (after 6), my feet were pretty much done for the day.
It was a glorious day though with sun, flowers, green groves, and deep conversations. One of those centered around a keychain we saw in a pilgrim store that read "The Way is the Goal." (Speaking of goals, weren't the 7 scored by Germany the other night pretty sweet?!?) Both of us decided we agreed with the little saying. If you don't like walking or spending the time to actually be on the Camino, then don't do it. Just fly straight to Santiago if seeing the city is your only goal. Of course the walking itself has to be part of the reason you would even do this in the first place. Where we disagreed, however, was in whether or not the way is the whole goal.
I say the destination, in our case the city and church of Santiago, still have to part of the goal as well, maybe around 10%. Having an end gives purpose to the journey. If the camino itself were the only goal, it would be an aimless path, much like trying to live a vibrant faith without God. In my argument, I likened it to my job as a teacher. There, too, the majority of the work happens in the everyday sweat and tears of worksheets, homework, lessons, and grading. The nine months of learning are so much more the seeming goal than the last two weeks of finals and graduation. But you can't take away those final destinations, or students will ask what the point is? If there is no advancement to the next grade, why even spend that year learning? Now some might argue that the learning itself had value, just as the walking itself has a richness to it, but those values are much diminished if they don't lead to something.
It keeps coming back to faith for me. I've met so many people who are searching for peace or wisdom in personal decisions or meaning in their lives while walking the camino, but they don't want to have to find it in God. Spirituality or philosophy, okay, but they prefer that vague "something inside themselves" over the timeless Scriptures about Christ or the truth of a living God who wants a relationship with them. A goal without a source or a destination. Here's my keychain: "The Goal is so much more than the Way."
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Day 21: Portomarin - Palas de Rei
Day in one word: loss
Today an old friend of Ana's and Gyeong-Sun's showed up and walked a while with me. Her name is Agnes (Hungary), and the first thing I learned from the others is that she loses something every day. It proved true. We had to turn around for her water bottle twice. :-) I found it super easy to talk to her as we processed a lot together, from her fiancé to our job situations to family to faith. At one point in the conversation, we got into the story of when my parents' house burned down two years ago. Ana, who is a grief counselor, was all ears and asked a ton of questions, and we spent a good chunk of today's camino on the topic of loss.
In honor of Agnes' idiosyncrasy, here are some of the things I've lost so far on the camino:
- 4 clothes pins, not sure if people have stolen them or if I keep forgetting them
- my favorite socks, just this morning too; I'm very sad
- the rubber off the bottom of my walking poles; they're very loud now
- some weight; not sure how much, but I'm in the verge of needing a belt to keep my pants up
- any inhibitions about sleeping/drooling/snoring in front of 50 other people (though I still change in the bathroom)
- the need to check Facebook multiple times a day
- any beauty my feet may have had (not much, but still, it's gone!)
Of course, there are some more meaningful losses I'm contemplating these days, too. It was hard not to think of Jonathan in Pamplona since that was one of this last adventures. Or Aunt Barb who would've been 60 tomorrow. Or Grandpa Chaucer who left us on July 15. Many people walk the camino in order to lose something - uncertainty, timidity, weight, boredom, distance from God. The flip side of that is that we are usually trying to find something to fill that space as well. Some losses are temporary while others can never be replaced, but each loss can be significant and warrants some reflection. No matter its size or importance, I guess my hope is still to find God in the midst of it. Nothing will ever fill as He can.
Today an old friend of Ana's and Gyeong-Sun's showed up and walked a while with me. Her name is Agnes (Hungary), and the first thing I learned from the others is that she loses something every day. It proved true. We had to turn around for her water bottle twice. :-) I found it super easy to talk to her as we processed a lot together, from her fiancé to our job situations to family to faith. At one point in the conversation, we got into the story of when my parents' house burned down two years ago. Ana, who is a grief counselor, was all ears and asked a ton of questions, and we spent a good chunk of today's camino on the topic of loss.
In honor of Agnes' idiosyncrasy, here are some of the things I've lost so far on the camino:
- 4 clothes pins, not sure if people have stolen them or if I keep forgetting them
- my favorite socks, just this morning too; I'm very sad
- the rubber off the bottom of my walking poles; they're very loud now
- some weight; not sure how much, but I'm in the verge of needing a belt to keep my pants up
- any inhibitions about sleeping/drooling/snoring in front of 50 other people (though I still change in the bathroom)
- the need to check Facebook multiple times a day
- any beauty my feet may have had (not much, but still, it's gone!)
Of course, there are some more meaningful losses I'm contemplating these days, too. It was hard not to think of Jonathan in Pamplona since that was one of this last adventures. Or Aunt Barb who would've been 60 tomorrow. Or Grandpa Chaucer who left us on July 15. Many people walk the camino in order to lose something - uncertainty, timidity, weight, boredom, distance from God. The flip side of that is that we are usually trying to find something to fill that space as well. Some losses are temporary while others can never be replaced, but each loss can be significant and warrants some reflection. No matter its size or importance, I guess my hope is still to find God in the midst of it. Nothing will ever fill as He can.
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