Looking Back at the Camino Experience

This post will conclude this series on the Camino de Santiago. I have a choice now of what I want to remember from this experience.

I want to remember coming home and wondering why I needed so much stuff in my house? There was freedom in living out of a backpack. There were fewer decisions to make. Are my resources an asset to me or a liability?

I don’t feel old anymore. My muscles have healed. I feel strong. I don’t want to forget what it felt like to be weak. I don’t want to forget what it felt like to be dependent. I don’t want to forget what it felt like to let someone help me. I don’t want to forget that physical experiences can have spiritual lessons.

I carry some emotional burdens that I can’t release on my own. I need people who pray for me to help me leave these burdens at the foot of the cross. In the same way that it was wonderful for me when my nephew gently took my backpack from me, it is wonderful when I hear my name and my concerns mentioned in prayer.

I want to remember that it was God’s intention to walk with man in unbroken fellowship. As I walked alone through a path that is too beautiful to describe in words I heard God say, “This is what I intended. I want for us to walk together.”

I want that too.

I am grateful that, because of the work of Jesus, walking with God is again possible.

I want to remember this picture:

camino

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PS.

I have always wondered why, if you can’t hear what someone says, you don’t ask them to repeat it.

On my recent trip on the Camino, my nephew walked about 20-30 feet ahead of me and talked with his back to me. I couldn’t hear him so I told him I didn’t hear.

He repeated it.

This time I still didn’t hear but the experience was accompanied by a sense of inadequacy, and shame.

Maybe I didn’t deserve to hear.

Maybe if I ask again I will be an irritation.

The next time someone asks me to repeat, I’m going to take the initiative to make sure the message gets through. I’m going to take ownership for not speaking clearly and loudly.

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My Introductions to “Feeling Old”

I have often said with authority that old is something you appear to others but not something you experience yourself. My body has been remarkable healthy and strong. In my mind, I still wondered what I would do when I grew up. These past weeks, however, I not only look old to others, I also feel old myself.

On my recent hiking trip on the Camino, I found that was demanding to me but a walk in the park for my 30 year old, 6’6” traveling companion. I found that he was always waiting for me. He would usually walk ahead and then stand and wait until I caught up. He was patient but I wondered if he felt like he wished he was walking with someone that could keep his pace.

Every place we went we would need to reprogram my I-phone with a new user name and password. After struggling I would simply hand him the phone and say, “thank you.” He would press several places on the screen with lightning speed and give it back to me working.

We decided to take the Metro in downtown Madrid. He went to the ticket dispenser, scanned the route, and changed the language to English; our transportation for the day was established. When we approached our next metro stop, he would look at me and I would recognize the summons in his eyes.

It always took me longer to get ready for anything. I couldn’t open the plastic wrapped utensils. The buttons on my roll-up sleeve shirts seemed bigger than the button holes. I am clumsy.

After day five, I can’t bear weight on my knee. How can this be? My knee has never hurt.

On hot days, perspiration drips from my head. I knew I was dehydrating because I was drinking bottles of water and never stopping for a bathroom.

All of these experiences were new to me.

I welcomed the gentle hands that removed my backpack and hoisted it into the overhead rack.

What is this experience teaching me? It is probably that my future will include a season of dependence.

I have been introduced.

I will be more compassionate for those I walk alongside who struggle.

I will ask God what He wants to prepare me for.

Do you “feel” old or only look old to others?

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Observations from the Camino

As I watched my fellow travelers I began to notice that there were two groups with identifiable distinctives. I found them falling into these two categories:

Pilgrim/Tourist

• Personal appearance not an issue • Personal appearance a big issue

• Concern for community • Concern for impact on self

• Becomes a part of the journey • Observes the journey

• Quietly reflects • Quickly comments

• Releases • Grasps

• Self-sacrifice • Self-protects

• No guarantees • Guarantee receipt

• Shares his food and eats off another’s plate • Uses hand sanitizer

• Worships • Worries

• Allows child within to come out and play • Keeps child hidden

• Approaches risks with expectation • Approaches risks with anxiety

• Sees loss as a thing to process • Sees loss as a thing to prevent

• Keeps a journal • Keeps a ledger

• Focused on a single destination • Open to side trips

As I reflect on these thoughts, I am asking myself if, in my personal walk with Jesus or corporately within His church, am I a pilgrim or a tourist?

Psalm 84:5 Blessed are those who strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.

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The Decision Belongs to Another

I am sitting on the veranda of Casa Bendariz in northern Spain.

The owner is sitting with us. I ask if this hotel has been in the family for a long time. The question prompts this story told through an interpreter.

This hotel was built in the 1500’s. It has been in the same family for 700 years. The practice is for the property to get passed on to the oldest son.

The circumstances now are different, however. The current owner has three daughters, but no sons. The grandfather, who is the decision maker, has decided that the oldest daughter can inherit this property. But, the story continues, this daughter does not want it. She is about 10 years old and she wants to be a dress designer.

The grandfather will now have to decide if the second oldest daughter will get the property. The grandfather decides!

This story is told with no stress. They only peacefully acknowledge to each other that the grandfather is the one who will decide.

May I so rest in the decisions God has designed for Himself.

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Where to Build the Church?

As a group of pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago we were very interested in the story of our hotel, Casa Bendariz.

The owner, through a translator from a traveling Spanish family, told us that the house that we were staying in was 100 years older than the church. (The house, as recorded in a previous post, was built in the 1500’s.)

I asked if we could see the church. The storyteller said, “Yes, it is just around the corner.” (It was literally about 30 feet away but we were sitting on the opposite side of the house.)

The story continues. When the rocks were hewn for the church to be built, the decision was made for the cows from this farm to pull the rocks. They decided to let the cows go wherever they wanted and then they would build the church wherever the cows stopped.

The cows only knew to come home so that is where they walked and that is why the church is built so close to the house.

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I Have Done Enough

During the night I recognized that my body had gone as far as it could go. I needed rest. I struggled. I needed to finish. I rationalized: even God rested one day out of seven. I didn’t want to come home having failed. I didn’t want to wreck my body for a certificate.

I sacrificed a lot in High School to be valedictorian. Not one person, not even at a job interview, has ever asked me about it. I will relinquish the certificate.

This morning I calculated that I had walked 114 km of mountainous terrain and came up with 70 miles.

So, at 70 years of age I walked 70 miles in 5 days.

I have done enough.

Maybe that is more important to say than I have finished.

Jesus finished so I don’t have to.

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An Encounter with Presence

When we had about 8 miles to go today I couldn’t take another step. I was weak and the pain in my right knee was unbearable. I braced myself against the corner of a stone building, dragged my body around the corner and literally fell into the arms of a young man who seemed to be there waiting for me.

He asked me, in broken English, if I wanted him to help me. I showed him my knee. He said he was a physical therapist and could help me.

He found a place for me to sit and removed the brace I had purchased at the farmacie. He then started massaging the muscles of my lower leg and said some of the muscles needed “waking up.” He then provided a gel of Babarin, gelfries, and aloe vera. He showed me a more effective way to wear the brace.

Without this intervention I don’t know what I would have done.

This man would not accept any money. He said he did this to help people. When I tried again to pay him he pointed to a stand that was handing out tracts about Jesus and said that if I wanted to I could make a donation to them.

I walked away knowing that I had encountered God with skin.

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Lessons from the Camino

Today is my third day walking. I am mostly walking alone, which is the recommended way.

Here are some thoughts that blessed me.

Watch the sheep. They peacefully graze in the green pastures. There is no evidence of concern. Use this picture to remind yourself that you have a Shepherd. Relax and enjoy the pasture He has prepared for you today.

Listen to the rooster crow. On the third crow I was reminded of Peter’s denial of Jesus. I sensed Jesus asking me if I had denied Him? He seemed to answer before I could. I felt like He said, “I know you haven’t denied my Divinity but have you denied my goodness?” I told Him I was sorry and asked Him to forgive me. I declared His goodness.

I am trying to drink enough water. I am reminded of the advice I was given to drink early and drink often. If you wait until you are thirsty it will be too late. You won’t be able to catch up.

Do any of these pictures have meaning for you?

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Breaking News: Train Crash Kills Nearly 100 People

Note: The next several posts are about my recent trip to Spain where I walked the pilgrimage trail of the Camino.

I was in Madrid when my phone rang at 2 am. My friend from home was frantic. She knew we were traveling from Madrid to Santiago. She had just seen breaking news of a train crash on this very route killing 80 and wounding hundreds more.

I managed to reassure my friend that I was not on this train. I, in fact, was hearing about the crash by this phone call.

The next morning, as we took a taxi to the airport to fly to Santiago, I realized that if we had chosen to travel by train the crashed train is the one we would have been on.

Arriving in Santiago we found all the planned festivities for this August 25 City Celebration had been cancelled. The area had declared 7 days of grieving.

A few days later on the Camino we met a couple from Canada who had been on this train but had gotten off at Lugo, a stop prior to the crash.

I asked how this proximity to death impacted them.

They said they were doing a lot of thinking about the families they had met on the train. The children. The parents.

How safe are we anywhere?

When will we have seen someone for the last time?

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