I woke this morning with a desire to stop keeping stats. Feels like a milestone. A spiritual turning point. And just in time, we are running out of road. Suddenly it doesn’t matter what day something happened, it is not important to keep a log.
Besides, I’m not sure I could tell you. “Where are we?,” I overheard a woman asking a man as they rested on a rock in the middle of a forest. “I have absolutely no idea,” he said. “”Where are we going?,” she asked. “I do not know.”
It is a common Camino feeling. The days are full, a different town each night, written in a foreign language that does not roll easily off the tongue. I do not know where I am or where I am going. It’s a great starting place for a spiritual experience.
It doesn’t matter how many miles I went or how few hours I slept, or what inconveniences I endured. What matters, is how I encountered God this day.
Today I write about my personal encounter and I confess that I write it primarily so I might not forget. For me, writing is a way to record it on my heart. It has been very important for me on my faith journey.
I share it with you because nothing would make me happier than to walk this way with you. To share this experience and have you share yours, so we can remind and help each other along the way, that God is very much alive and with us, and that he loves us more deeply than we can ever fathom. I know this to be true. I pray it brings you peace, offers you hope or at least makes you smile. God has a spectacular sense of humor.
FYI-My post today blurs stage 8 and today, stage 11, the day I write it. It no longer matters what day it is. I am in the now.
Today is unusual, we have the luxury of luxuries: time. We have finally adjusted to the pace and the siesta culture and mealtime schedule. Why did it take us so long? I have time to write.
On the Camino there is a saying. “The Camino provides”. It is a saying for a reason. It is Truth. Almost anyone you ask can tell you a personal experience about how the Camino provided for them.
This is mine. God meets us where we are:
On the way up a steep hill I stepped in dog poop. I didn’t realize I had. Until I went to remove my shoes and give my toes some space. That’s when I put my hands in it. Aaaargh. Maybe my Camino name should be Charlie Brown.
No running water or way to clean. I had some paper towels that were about the size of a quarter. Just add splash from my water bottle and they swell up like magic. Until now I wasn’t sure they should have made the very selective packing cut. Now they are worth their weight in gold.
I cleaned as well as I could. My friend Len had some antibacterial lotion. Even so, I couldn’t stop smelling it until we found a bathroom where I could wash. Finding a bathroom that has soap, toilet paper and paper towels is like hitting the Camino trifecta. It doesn’t happen very often.
I tried to put it behind me but it felt like the stink clung to me. I had washed it off my shoes as best I could without getting my feet wet—a surefire way to get blisters.
As I approached a small town at the top of the hill I saw my friend Pam in a cute souvenir store. I followed her in. Almost immediately I noticed a curtain separating the backroom from the shopping area. It was pulled back and revealed—holy of holies—shoe boxes.
My heart lept at the thought. Could it be?! We had been looking for sandals for me for days. My sweet friends even walked out of the way with me to try to find them a couple of days earlier, in the hope that they might help alleviate the pain in my toes. These are the kind of people to walk The Way with.
I looked to the left of where my friend was shopping and unbelievably there were sandals on display. I picked up a pair and asked the woman working there if I could try them on.
“Size?,” she asked.
“Nine or ten?,” I said. Was it to much to ask….
“Uhhh…in European?…”, she asked.
I’ve never been more grateful for my shopping habit. I know the answer! “Do you have a 39?” She went behind the curtain…
“Only one,” she said as she came back out, “nothing bigger.” I was almost afraid to try them on. My Cinderella moment…
They fit!!! And you’ll never believe it, but they match my coat! I would have worn them if they were neon pink with polka dots or had skulls on them. It was all the same to me.
I have worn them every day since. Is it 3 days or 4? It doesn’t matter. They feel heavenly.
I would never have dreamt of wearing a pair shoes on the Camino that I had not trained in, and I never could have imagined that if I did I wouldn’t get some serious blisters.
None! Though I did use a preventative Compeed pad my amazing friend gave me. Those things are incredible. How have I made it this long in life without knowing they existed. But I don’t even need them.
Sandals! My toes were finally free! And just in the nick of time. The steep downhill would surely have been very painful in the sneakers.
“Do you have a bag for my sneakers?” I asked, “una bolsa?” I came out of the store with my “shit shoes”, as we’ve come to call them, in a plastic shopping bag. “I’ll put them in my backpack,” my husband said as he held out his hand.
“No, It’s perfect,” I said, “I am atoning for much shopping sin.” He didn’t debate me. Besides, I was not carrying a backpack. It was only fair.
Just then my Camino angel appeared outside the store, at the top of the hill. He is the one who told me to try sandals. He took one look at my feet and I danced a little jig. “Happy feet!,” I said joyfully. “Yay!,” I said, and we celebrated together, I was in the sandal club.
The song we’ve been singing today (each day has one) is “walking in Memphis,” by Marc Cohn. “Walking with my feet 10 feet off the ground…”, it says. Truth. Please don’t pull me back to earth.
God is good, all the time. Believe!!
Jesus says “I AM The Way.” (aka “Camino”).
He is God, and he provides. It is a daily walk to trust like he wants us to trust. In ALL things. There is much to surrender to him and I am working on it, trying to walk it as much as I can in my first-world experience. Blessed are the poor.
Life will not always be this easy. Feel free to remind me of my faith and my hope when I am tempted to forget, to doubt.
God is good. All the time. Whether I am in “shit shoes” or matching sandals.
Forgive me but it is too late for pictures. I promise you you’ll tire of them when I get home.
Love, peace and joy, my friends.
Besides, I’m not sure I could tell you. “Where are we?,” I overheard a woman asking a man as they rested on a rock in the middle of a forest. “I have absolutely no idea,” he said. “”Where are we going?,” she asked. “I do not know.”
It is a common Camino feeling. The days are full, a different town each night, written in a foreign language that does not roll easily off the tongue. I do not know where I am or where I am going. It’s a great starting place for a spiritual experience.
It doesn’t matter how many miles I went or how few hours I slept, or what inconveniences I endured. What matters, is how I encountered God this day.
Today I write about my personal encounter and I confess that I write it primarily so I might not forget. For me, writing is a way to record it on my heart. It has been very important for me on my faith journey.
I share it with you because nothing would make me happier than to walk this way with you. To share this experience and have you share yours, so we can remind and help each other along the way, that God is very much alive and with us, and that he loves us more deeply than we can ever fathom. I know this to be true. I pray it brings you peace, offers you hope or at least makes you smile. God has a spectacular sense of humor.
FYI-My post today blurs stage 8 and today, stage 11, the day I write it. It no longer matters what day it is. I am in the now.
Today is unusual, we have the luxury of luxuries: time. We have finally adjusted to the pace and the siesta culture and mealtime schedule. Why did it take us so long? I have time to write.
On the Camino there is a saying. “The Camino provides”. It is a saying for a reason. It is Truth. Almost anyone you ask can tell you a personal experience about how the Camino provided for them.
This is mine. God meets us where we are:
On the way up a steep hill I stepped in dog poop. I didn’t realize I had. Until I went to remove my shoes and give my toes some space. That’s when I put my hands in it. Aaaargh. Maybe my Camino name should be Charlie Brown.
No running water or way to clean. I had some paper towels that were about the size of a quarter. Just add splash from my water bottle and they swell up like magic. Until now I wasn’t sure they should have made the very selective packing cut. Now they are worth their weight in gold.
I cleaned as well as I could. My friend Len had some antibacterial lotion. Even so, I couldn’t stop smelling it until we found a bathroom where I could wash. Finding a bathroom that has soap, toilet paper and paper towels is like hitting the Camino trifecta. It doesn’t happen very often.
I tried to put it behind me but it felt like the stink clung to me. I had washed it off my shoes as best I could without getting my feet wet—a surefire way to get blisters.
As I approached a small town at the top of the hill I saw my friend Pam in a cute souvenir store. I followed her in. Almost immediately I noticed a curtain separating the backroom from the shopping area. It was pulled back and revealed—holy of holies—shoe boxes.
My heart lept at the thought. Could it be?! We had been looking for sandals for me for days. My sweet friends even walked out of the way with me to try to find them a couple of days earlier, in the hope that they might help alleviate the pain in my toes. These are the kind of people to walk The Way with.
I looked to the left of where my friend was shopping and unbelievably there were sandals on display. I picked up a pair and asked the woman working there if I could try them on.
“Size?,” she asked.
“Nine or ten?,” I said. Was it to much to ask….
“Uhhh…in European?…”, she asked.
I’ve never been more grateful for my shopping habit. I know the answer! “Do you have a 39?” She went behind the curtain…
“Only one,” she said as she came back out, “nothing bigger.” I was almost afraid to try them on. My Cinderella moment…
They fit!!! And you’ll never believe it, but they match my coat! I would have worn them if they were neon pink with polka dots or had skulls on them. It was all the same to me.
I have worn them every day since. Is it 3 days or 4? It doesn’t matter. They feel heavenly.
I would never have dreamt of wearing a pair shoes on the Camino that I had not trained in, and I never could have imagined that if I did I wouldn’t get some serious blisters.
None! Though I did use a preventative Compeed pad my amazing friend gave me. Those things are incredible. How have I made it this long in life without knowing they existed. But I don’t even need them.
Sandals! My toes were finally free! And just in the nick of time. The steep downhill would surely have been very painful in the sneakers.
“Do you have a bag for my sneakers?” I asked, “una bolsa?” I came out of the store with my “shit shoes”, as we’ve come to call them, in a plastic shopping bag. “I’ll put them in my backpack,” my husband said as he held out his hand.
“No, It’s perfect,” I said, “I am atoning for much shopping sin.” He didn’t debate me. Besides, I was not carrying a backpack. It was only fair.
Just then my Camino angel appeared outside the store, at the top of the hill. He is the one who told me to try sandals. He took one look at my feet and I danced a little jig. “Happy feet!,” I said joyfully. “Yay!,” I said, and we celebrated together, I was in the sandal club.
The song we’ve been singing today (each day has one) is “walking in Memphis,” by Marc Cohn. “Walking with my feet 10 feet off the ground…”, it says. Truth. Please don’t pull me back to earth.
God is good, all the time. Believe!!
Jesus says “I AM The Way.” (aka “Camino”).
He is God, and he provides. It is a daily walk to trust like he wants us to trust. In ALL things. There is much to surrender to him and I am working on it, trying to walk it as much as I can in my first-world experience. Blessed are the poor.
Life will not always be this easy. Feel free to remind me of my faith and my hope when I am tempted to forget, to doubt.
God is good. All the time. Whether I am in “shit shoes” or matching sandals.
Forgive me but it is too late for pictures. I promise you you’ll tire of them when I get home.
Love, peace and joy, my friends.