Humility

9 Sept 2015

30 miles before Camino

Humility

Buen Camino!

I am just a day or two short of starting the Camino.  I recall how God called me to this spiritual adventure again.  He had been warming my heart to the idea for several months. Deep within me I was incredulous. It can’t be? The wild notion of it became real for me on Dec.21, the traditional feast day for Doubting Thomas, the apostle. I was doing a 16 mile faith walk on the local prairie path when my prayer time was a bit of an argument with God. 

My thoughts ranged from loving the idea to considering what others might think of my trying such an adventure again.  “They’ll think you’re a glory hound. They’ll think you’re crazy to do this again at age 64.” Many questions shouted at me why should I even consider such a thing and they tumbled in my discerning mind  tumbling along with each footstep.

To my great surprise my spirit sensed a God moment and then I heard something resonate in my beeing. So as not to be mistaken, I did not claim I physically heard the voice of God.  But when something so holy whispers into your soul, you know the message is undoubtedly from Him.  My reluctant thoughts came to a screeching halt with His words echoing in my heart, “I have so much more to tell you.”

It was so profoundly holy and pure it shivered a warm sensation from head to toe and then back toe to head throughout my entire body. His Holy Spirit was blessing me.  I knew full well what it was like when He spoke his messages in me during my Camino in 2013.  Those were a 34 day holy exercise in “shut up and listen.” These insights I wrote in my blog with the Holy Spirit coursing through me. 

This was a new call. There 3 calls within one call.  First I was  humbly invited to walk the el Camino de Santiago de Compostella AGAIN. I also believed that I was also called to share stories of the insights of spirituality gained on the Camino. To this,  I set out to offer at FAITH WALK talks as local churches in the area. A third area of calling came as an insight into a future book I’d hope to write about inspirations along the Camino that relate to our FAITH WALK life events.

With 9 months of preparation ahead of me, I set out on a mission to grow in body, mind, and spirit. I walked and exercised hard, read and engaged in formal study of the spirituality of St. Ignatius’ 30 day Spiritual Exercises, and prayed, prayed, prayed.

Along this faith journey, I encountered an undeveloped aspect of my spiritual growth.  I awakened to a relationship with the Blessed Mother.  A tender love for her grew until I happened upon an opportunity to go to Medjugorie in Croatia/Herzogovinia where she is appearing there today. A beautiful story of that at a different time, promise.

This takes me to my current experience.  I embarked on, what I hoped would be, a holy adventure on September 3 bound for the land of our Lady for a few day retreat before the Camino.  Just two days before departure I came down with the start of a sinus infection.  I was able to see a doctor for treatment.  However, on my departure date, I hit the perfect storm. I was consumed in numerous last minute activities prior to leaving me deeply fatigued, I suffer from lack of sleep, an uncomfortable flight, and the heavy decongestant and other medications left me battling extreme drowsiness. In addition, I was a circus show of sneezing, nose blowing, and heavy productive coughing.  I was a complete mess once reaching Munich for my connecting flight to Dubrovnik on route to Medjugorie.

It is here the good Lord blessed me with a strong lesson in humility.  During a four hour layover, I fell deeply asleep in the airport just 6 feet from the gate. Never heard or expected a single thing well into a deep silence that occurred through what I first thought was mysterious. No one was around me anymore.

It was then that I soon discovered the flight left almost 90 minutes ago.  I was directed to customer service and after waiting in a long line with anxiety bubbling over, I discussed the matter with the agent.  “You missed because you sleep,” he said in his strong, ridiculing German accent. Shame washed over me. I felt an intense self-anger over what I allowed to happen. No self-talk or comfort would take hold in me. I was so very angry at myself and imaged what others would think of me allowing myself to create such a stupid mess.

I became engaged in a lengthy call using precious international calling minutes with the airlines trying to rebook a new flight.  This new one would not depart for another 26 hours. Yes, a night sleeping in the Munich airport was to add to my ugly sinus mess and profound humiliation. Not to mention, the new travel arrangements were excruciation to my travel budget. This deepened my worry and embarrassment.

Just when I thought matters could not be any worse, I get an email from Medjugorie. The lady who ran the hotel had sent a taxi looking for me. It was a costly two hour ride from the airport. I was not there and all involved were upset with me.  She would have to recharge me for another costly taxi ride if I committed to paying another fare. After some pleading emails, I convinced her of my desire for another taxi to arrive the following day. This added to more anxiety and disappointment with myself.

I arrived at the hotel at midnight the following night and was greeted by Ivanka, who made taxi arrangements and ran the hotel. Turns out she had to wait six hours past her work night hours for me.  She is a lovely lady whose patience and irritation gleamed at me upon walking in the door. “Why you no call me? Why you make me send taxi and not call to stop him? Tell me why?” Why you take medicine that make you sleepy when you going to ride airplane? Why? she challenged in her distinct Croatian accent.

I could only offer my pathetic, sick to extremely sad and exhausted response, “ I couldn’t. I was so, so sick.”

“Ok, here your key. Breakfast until 9:30. Go sleep. Then we talk,” she offered in a surrendering tone.

Shortly after this while walking through the hotel, a group of Irish were sitting and enjoying a late night cocktail. I was introduced and one shouted, “You’re the guy who slept!” True, but grated hard embarrassment in my broken spirit.

The next day I was greeted by Ivanka. Some rest eased both of our feelings and outlook. By evening, I came to a profound respect and admiration of Ivanka. I learned that her disappointment was what the inconvenience would cause to my budget and lost time in Medjugorie. Even a day later, she approached me at a meal and asked, “How come you look so sad. You still sick? Or you sad?”

Being that she was the only English speaker, at least it seemed to me, her attention of me and request made me feel encouraged. I replied, “I am still upset with myself for causing so much trouble. I feel so sorry for what I did.”

Ivanka’s reply was a lightning bolt of acceptance and call for forgiveness. She looked kindly into my eyes across the checkered colored dining table cloth and offered in a softened voice, “What be the past is the past. No think about any more. Be thinking about now. Ok?”

What sweet Croatian fragranced spirituality! This unplugged my own resistance for self-forgiveness. It also allowed me to see the blessing that came for such a humbling situation.  For I see clearly the gift that event was.  How profoundly loving and wise is our God. How could I enter into a deeper, more loving pilgrimage over a 500 mile distance without it?

Humility was the gift God presented. I had the choice to run from it, complain of it, seek others sympathy, and/or even continue to cling to a shame of it. I chose to embrace it. Sharing the story now is my attempt to “man up” with it.  What a difference that perspective of seeing the event as a blessing has made!

As I see it now, I was so afraid to follow my carefully laid plans, do everything ‘perfectly,’ make everyone confident in me, to grow even more boldly confident in this adventure.  I am a first born, and I was crazy about doing it all right. I wanted to be a, well, bigger me.

Instead, I grew to embrace who I am and “whose” I am. I realized I could not nor would not be able to embrace all He had in store for me in the days ahead with my mind and heart full of. . . (gulp) ME. The more I gripped even harder to my bloated self-image, the more turmoil I felt inside. Feelings of shame, what ought to be, must be, need to be are attitudes that separate from the feeling of love of God. Don’t misunderstand, His love is always there, but these ego saving thoughts clutter and distract from His love wavelengths.

It’s an enigma. What draws a closer feeling of love with God is counter intuitive. It is embracing faults and weaknesses. It is seeing the truth of the real self and admitting imperfection. His love cannot be grabbed at with clutching hands. It comes only in open hands. The open palms of hands are the holy gesture of beggars pleading for His love and mercy.

Here was His path. Truth that led to humility which led to more love. This was my gift of humility in which He graced me.

I wish this as a memory for my pilgrimage days ahead. I pray it for you as well.

Fondly

Deacon Willie, aka DW