Monday, April 30, 2018
That's Enough for Me
That’s Enough For Me
April 30, 2018
Rabanal del Camino to Molineseca
Today was one of my most anticipated days of my
pilgrimage. It came with a price, but oh
so worth it. The night before I stayed
at a wonderful albergue that is run by the English Confraternity of Camino
Pilgrim. They serve tea and cookies as
an opportunity for pilgrims to get acquainted and discover a what’s inside.
This is a treasure of Camino travel- sharing in the most fascinating stories of
people’s faith walk.
These past two days have been an endurance
trial. It was a climb of almost 1600 meters,
just about 5,000 feet and a descent of half that distance. Today alone I walked 35km through a mountain
stretch that is higher than the Pyrenees. Ugh. Add to this, I chose to skip the
Camino walking trail and take the country road. This added length and grade and
elevation, but it avoided the slippery clay and all-too-numerous loose
rocks. I walked along one of God’s most
cherished works of arts viewing the towering, snow-capped mountains towering
over the journey downward.
Today’s highlight was the second most anticipated of
my pilgrimage. It is at the holy shrine of Cruz de Ferro. This shrine dated back to the 9th
century and was erected for pilgrims to lay at the cross their life’s heaviest
burden. The tradition is to bring a “burden
stone” from home and lay it at the foot of the cross. I carried my burden and 56 prayer burdens of family and
friends.
I arrived at the cross in a crazy snow storm. The entire trail was covered and the clay
trail was buried in snow except where pilgrims trod. Each step was a precarious adventure, not to mention,
so bitter cold with the snow and sleet machine-gunning every step. It didn’t
matter. I was on a mission to carry my burden and those whom I loved.
The first appearance of something so sacred, so
overflowing in heart-felt and heart-broken prayer left me speechless. I was
mesmerized; frozen (quite literally and figuratively) at a ten foot base of
burden stones of pilgrims over the centuries.
Dropping a few items, I made my way to the top of the mound and dropped
to my knees. This was my time for
bearing my soul and lifting up the burdens, really heavy, heavy burdens of
those whom I love.
The weather, of course, did not cooperate at this
mountain elevation. The snow and sleet intensified. No matter. This was heaven’s calling. Pray Wille,
and how I prayed! I knelt in that snowy,
rocky sacred ground and took the image of those desperate for prayer. I pictured their hope-filled face. I lifted
the first with their burden prayer and added, “with all my heart, Lord.” I
continued for each person and their life’s burden. Then I came to the end. It
was the time for my prayer. My burden?
Gratitude in service. I placed the stone
from home that had painted upon it the words, “God is at work in you.” I did not actually see it as a burden so much
as a supreme gift that God has called me to serve Him. The gratitude I felt so
heavily was my hope that the service I provide is enough, that it is centered
only in Him, that it would lead others to Him. My knees dug deep into the snow
and rock as I got lost in holding before the Creator of the Universe, the
Miracle worker, and the Paraclete all those who have been put in my life-past
and present.
The snow was intensifying in temperature and
accumulation. It was time to journey downward. I chose the country road that
paralleled the Camino walking trail. It was much, much safer, but with more
elevation and longer distances. What it
did afford is the most spectacular view of the mountains. These poked above the
elevation of those in southern France that I walked at my other Caminos. They were majestic in every sense. And they
were never ending.
The choice to walk the road was by far safer, but ultimately
longer and harder on the legs and knees. I have no regret for all the while I
had a prayer in my head that lifted me.
St. Ignatius, writer of the Spiritual Exercises, ended
his advice with a prayer that is famously sung in hymns and recited in prayer.
It goes like this:
“Take
Lord, receive all my liberty
My
memory, my understanding, and my will.
Give
me only your love.
That’s
enough for me.”
All day my mountain top experience led me to
consider all that comes from surrender. How patient our good Lord has been in
my tug-of-war events of things I’ve wanted my way. Yes, I am so blessed, and so are you,
friend. His love is cascading upon us,
and yet there is a tendency to be looking for the next want or need.
I looked down from my lofty, mountain-top embrace with
heaven and recycled my heart’s desire.
“Give me only your love. That’s enough for me.”
I pray it’s enough for you as well, friend.
Fondly, Deacon Willie
Sunday, April 29, 2018
God,my way
God, My Way
April 29, 2018
Astorga-Rabanal del Camino
It was another outrageously blessed day on the
Camino. We pilgrims had to really suit
up in the morning in preparation for rain and possible snow that was in the
forecast. I walked under heavy cloud
cover and along breathtaking mountain landscapes. I walked alone today, well not alone alone. I
walked with the Creator of all this beauty.
As I walk, I find myself chasing Him. “What do you
want to talk to me about Lord? What are your desires to share with me today? I
am listening.”
It seems like a nice and faith-filled prayer
posture. Right? But the Holy Spirit is a gentlemen and doesn’t interrupt the
chatter in my head. So I must wait, and wait, and walk and walk. Like in the
Star Wars film when the fighting fleet enters the death star on route to the
fire on the central energy source, Luke and his flight team are warned, “Wait
for it. Wait for it” In the film they must stay the course until the target
presents itself. That is a caution I am reminded of while beginning each Camino
walk in eager anticipation for whatever the Holy Spirit’s target is for me for
the day.
Well, it was not just one target today. There were
three contained in thoughts, words, and a deed. The first message was so
obvious I could virtually have tripped over it. There set right in the middle
of the trail was a display of miscellaneous stones arranged in the shape of a
heart. Hmmmmm. “Is there a message here, Lord?”
I gave myself time for a photo and to drink in the sight of it.
A short distance away the message from Ezekiel
roared into my presence, “I will take from them their stony hearts and give
them hearts of flesh.” This led me to reflect upon those dear hearts of people I know and love who have such tender hearts of
flesh for our Lord and those they serve. This was followed by a reflection of
those who I have met and tried to mentor who have “stony hearts.” A distinct
group came to mind. You might have
encountered some to whom I’m referring.
In just these two days I’ve met two people already
who have said, “I’m spiritual; I’m not religious.” They announce this as a
proud badge of their new faith. I’ve experienced all too commonly even with
people back home. I spent a great deal of prayer time thinking about people who
hold this life conviction, “I am spiritual; I’m not religious.”
My reflection led me to understand this thinking.
First, those who attest to this always recite it in that order. It is a line a
thinking that gives credit that they are not without belief, but believe in the
spirit. When I’ve gotten into a dialogue over this thinking, I often find we
have common experiences. What I share as life events when goodness surprised me
at the perfect time after a prayer, those of that claim being spiritual agree.
They explain that spiritual events can occur where goodness happens. Though
most claim it has nothing to do with prayer or connection to God. It just . . .
.happens.
The two I talked with about this matter while on the
Camino shared a thinking I’ve heard from others who take this claim. One stated, “I like when I find goodness and
stories of goodness, but I don’t find anything of value in church. It’s a lot
of blah, blah, blah.” There is something worth reflecting upon by churches and
the faithful who practice the faith. And
then again, in regard to the “I’m spiritual” group there is something common in
their message. I believe it is this, “I’m in control. And I’ll take “God, my way.” I believe there is much
truth in this thinking, or should I say, this kind of believing. I’ll take this
spirit when I want it, how I want it, and in the way I believe He/She is to be. It strikes me as walking the buffet
line, “I’ll take God this way, not too much of this, a lot more of this,
and maybe none of that. Yep, God, my way.
These were just some of my thoughts until another
clue the Spirit left in my path. It was a pair of shoes left behind by some
pilgrim. I have come to the painful discovery that I forgot or left some needed
item behind while on the Camino. But a
pair of shoes?! How sad for a pilgrim! I chose to carry them the 10km ahead to
the next stop in hopes of reunited the pilgrim’s only other shoes. How sad for
the poor one without these!
In hopes that I’m might coincidentally happen upon
the pilgrim along The Way, I determined to carry them openly on my walking
sticks. Maybe, just maybe, the sorry
pilgrim will see them and get reunited with them.
This proved to be quite a visual companion dangling
on the tops of poles. My wild
imagination led me to consider that I may be walking in faith with a pilgrim
who might be under the weight of a stony heart. He/she might even be one of the
“I’m spiritual; I’m not religious.” In fact, that is the person to whom my
words were directed. What would be my message to someone of this persuasion?
What would you say?
Then there is that “I’m in control” aspect. I
directed my imaginary conversation to these dangling shoes. In truth, there is
nothing in which we are in control. Nothing. All things are created by a
Creator. The goodness discovered by the spirit, is in concert with a Father in
heaven. Whether we give credit or not,
it is truth.
Then the conversation got deeper, if you might join
my imaginary conversation with the shoes dangling off my poles. Perhaps the retreat from religion, the
perceived enemy of the spiritual is really a retreat from unresolved sin. Maybe, just maybe, it is a death grip on
pride. Getting real with one’s sin is
not always easy, but it is the only path toward freedom. Escaping into a “my
way” spirit world does not provide freedom. It provides an illusion of freedom
that is only found in God’s forgiveness. It is never found in the buffet
spirit-of-choice. The truth is the truth
is the truth. And God’s word and the
practice of it is the only real way. The
God, my way is our own created mind candy (sorry, my words).
I continued along with my imaginary shoe friend, and
I contemplated what I should do for him/her.
I prayed for my imaginary friend who holds fast to comfort in spirit
only. With no takers for the shoes, I did
what a good friend would do. I went to church and prayed for them. Then I took them to church.
I arrived in Rabanal del Camino in a nasty cold rain
and sleet with these shoes of my imaginary friend. I gave them to God in prayer. I gave them to
Jesus for his miracle touch. And I gave them to the Holy Spirit.
Then I placed the shoes at the church door confident
in the God is bigger than any limits that can be placed on Him. Religion is not the enemy of the spirit, our
limit on the life with the Holy Spirit
Fondly, Deacon Willie
Saturday, April 28, 2018
God of Surprises
God
of Surprises
April 28, 2018
Hospital de Orbigo to Astorga
This Camino day has been a trail of “good news/bad
news. This is how the day played out.
I started the walk today under heavy cloudy skies
and an extra sharp cold nip in the air.
I wore all I owned to stay warm.
It worked wonderfully. I was
traveling alone because companions I met were staying in a location far from
me. No worries. I enjoy the solitude and
got my head down in prayer and God’s great beauty around me. To avoid some stiff, chilly, mountain breezes
in my face, I had my face looking into my boots. Big mistake. I missed the main
trail and passed the cutoff. Once I got
to a bus stop, I sat studying the map when a kind Spaniard stopped to help
me. I used all the hillbilly Spanish I
could muster to ask if I did in fact miss the cutoff. He pointed to the map
assuring me that the trail I was on was the correct one. Yet, I was
unconvinced. I was certain I missed it and
the opportunity to revisit a roadside stand run by a loving and humble named
David. This I dearly wanted to visit again.
I plodded ahead with the old Spaniard ahead knowing that
I missed my chance for another encounter with David, a pure gift for my Camino. The loss of this opportunity was weighing on
me as I plodded on mile after mile. Then my memory flashed to some of the
Ignatian spirituality I’ve been immersed in these past years. A rich dimension of the saint’s advice for
richer spiritual growth is captured in what he calls, “The principle and
foundation.” In simple language it is “to be indifferent to richness over
poverty, health over sickness, honor over dishonor. That it is only in Christ
that is our desire.” In this spiritual mindset, it is the opportunity to
develop a holy indifference, to accept all the events in life as a gift.
I recognized my disordered attention to wanting what
I wanted because I wanted it. I
recognized that in demanding life my way, I was also removing myself from a God
surprise of a new and better joy and a far better purpose could be in store for
me. With that I surrendered, “I may never see David again, Lord, but I accept
it.”
I plodded along another 4 miles until reaching a
monument marking my destination town of Astorga. A short visit with a wonderful couple from
Bolivia netted a surprising bit of news.
They had just arrived on the trail I missed and David was a mere mile
and half back. I saw this as a God
surprise and gift.
A short walk later, I stood before David and his
famed fruit and snack stand. I met him in 2013 when I stopped and discovered
there was a film crew capturing video of David for a documentary film they were
doing on him. Good reason for this, he
lives on a small farm plot there and keeps a fruit and juice bar available for
approaching pilgrims. After his camino, he set up shop there with a life
mission to serve pilgrims.
To say he lives modestly is an understatement. David
welcomes pilgrim after pilgrim by ringing a bell, running out to them, and throwing
an arm over their shoulder. He asks each pilgrim personally, “Are you well
friend? Please help yourself.” Pilgrims ask, “What is the price?” David’s
standard response, “It is not important.” There is a donation box for gifts. On
this alone he supports himself and restocks supplies. It is quite amazing to
feel the love and generosity abound in this place radiated by David’s complete
surrender to life on the Spirit’s time. There
was an added surprise. I met up with the
pilgrims I left behind. Oh God of surprises!
The remainder of my Camino day was refreshed by the
rich opportunity in Ignatian Principle and Foundation. That is, to embrace a
mystery of faith along life’s ordinary daily events.. Life has surprises, and many times I don’t
see the good in them. But if I believe, really believe Matthew 7:11 that God is
a good father who knows how to give good things to his children. This is a
faith that allows me work on holding life lightly. Being in control, playing
God, does far from allowing me peace. In God alone is freedom.
More of the things that matter, really matter to me,
like love, joy, and peace come when I surrender more and more of my life to
Him. Saints we admire have done this. They have endured suffering and death to
give their all to God. Their lives were glowing examples of living a holy indifference.
Isn’t it true for us as well. The more we surrender
for Him, for His glory, for love of Him, the more of Him fills our life. And with more of him, the power of love is
uncontainable.
Where do we start to develop a holy indifference and
take life as opportunities for our good Father to grow us into His saints?
Perhaps it’s in the next God surprise that presents
itself.
Friday, April 27, 2018
Mountain Breezes
Mountain
Breezes
April 27, 2018
Manzriffe to Hospital de Orbigo
I spent this short walk today walking parallel to a
range of snow-capped mountains. They
stood majestic, intimidating just in their immense size, and captivating to
behold even at 100km (about 50-60 miles away.)
I couldn’t take my eyes off the contrast in the massive, blue-gray shapes
and the stunningly-white, snow-capped peaks
and ridgeline. Awe inspiring!
There were more than the mountains that stole my attention. It was the steady mountain breeze that
swirled along the trail. They came like
little micro-bursts eddying around and before us raising clay dust that rose like incense. This
all got me thinking. There is something about nature’s breezes. Lake and ocean
breezes have a distinct quality and fragrance. Mountain breezes, however, are
quite different. There’s something of lightness in the air. They are chilly and
clean, dare I say, pure. Hopefully you can relate to what I experienced.
The Camino held this beauty and yet another
fascinating behavior. These stiff mountain breezes quietly slipped away for
short periods only to surprise the next stretch of the journey. I was fascinated by the sight of these
monstrous land features, but more so by the intermittent embraces of these
breezes.
God spoke to me in this experience. The sight led me
to contemplate how they represent the power of God and the breezes led me to
see these as how the Holy Spirit moves, The Spirit is full of all power and His
gifts are also a sight to cherished. I
contemplated that His movement is much like the mountain breezes today. These Spirit Winds, as I choose to identify
them, contain the same lightness, purity, and freshness as I imagine the Holy
Spirit.
I held these things in my heart as I entered my destination
village for the night. Some pilgrims I’ve
been walking with and I stopped at a small café for lunch while waiting for the
albergues to open for the day. We sat on
a sunny patio enjoying the view of a medieval bridge that is famed for a
jousting tournament that was held there.
Yes, history abounds on the Camino. While seated there, my walking
companions decided to exit for a different albergue leaving me with a young
man, Werner, who was biking from Leon to Santiago in 8 days, less than half the
time by foot.
Now surprisingly all alone, Werner shared his
heartache and reason for the Camino. His
eyes reddened and welled over with tears as he shared that his father committed
suicide. “I loved me Papa, me daddy. It tore me up for these past two years.” Then he went on to share the details, the
confusion, the lost period he endured. I was riveted to him and his tearful
story strained on my heart. Werner was
in his early 30’s, a big man (probably 6’5 and 250 lbs), baby faced, and
gentle, dare I say “wounded.” He was a little boy in a big boy’s body who
needed a dad at that moment. And yes,
mountain breezes, more accurately, Spirit Winds, still found us on that little café
patio.
Then Werner shared with me a variation of a Camino
legend he was following. It is
traditional for pilgrims to carry a “burden stone.” They carry it from home to represent some
burden in their heart that they carry and wish to lay at the foot of Cruz de
Ferro, the Iron Cross. Over the
centuries pilgrims have placed their burden stones at this holy shrine. They
wait in solemn lines to climb what is a mountain of prayerfully placed burden
prayers before the cross. In a sincere
silence and reverence, each pilgrims approaches the cross, many kneel, and pray
their heart out. Each leaves their burden stone at the foot of the cross. Werner shared how he was following his
calling to the Camino. Because he would
be biking for only 8 days, he chose to carry 8 burden stones. “I will cast one burden each day. On my first
day from my home in Cape Town, South Africa, I cast my first stone.” He choked
on tears, with my company I might add, he added. “I determined to begin my
Camino surrendering the heartache of losing me daddy. I didn’t want to carry
the memory of how he died, how I missed his love, and how I missed him. Then he gained composure and added, “So I cast
away me first stone, number 8, in my
home town to release myself of my loss of me Papa, yea, me daddy. ”With a robust
smile beaming hope he added, “By the time I reach Santiago I will be free.”
A surprising mountain breeze of Spirit gusted before
us as he added his wisdom born of suffering. “Willie, I’ve come to see that it
is not getting through suffering that’s important. It is celebrating what God
has done to bring us through the suffering.” In this he and I rejoiced in similar thought and
experiences. Werner added, “Each day I
will cast another stone to celebrate what God has released in me, that is, in
reasons I have to celebrate how He’s carried me through difficulties. Today I
cast the stone I call “Excess baggage. I carry around too much weight (he rubs
his big frame) and even too much emotional baggage. Today that is the
celebration stone I cast.”
Here I sat in the vortex of Spirit winds,
overwhelmingly blessed and dumbfounded by His breezes. Then Werner added this chilling side note. “You
know, Willie, I was riding through and looking for a place to have lunch; I was
starved. I rode right past this place. I
had a little God moment that told me to ride back to this place. Now I know
why. He had this planned for my day.” My “Amen” was squirting through my every
fiber. He stood from his table, towering
over me, “Willie, can we pray together?”
It was moment on that patio when heaven kissed the
earth. The Holy Spirit was so alive,
grace-filled, and uplifting. We prayed
our hearts out together and begged God’s care along The Way. Then off went Werner, leaving me in a holy
speechlessness.
God’s presence is as majestic as that snow-capped
mountain range, and His Holy Spirit moves in pure gift, detected only
intermittently for as much as we allow or offer ourselves up to Him. So much of
experiencing His movement is limited by our openness. True? Many ask me how to
have more of the Holy Spirit in their life. This can start as simply as praying these
words with your whole heart, “Come Holy Spirit. Come into my heart. I invite
you to move in me. I need you. And I welcome your grace.”
Do prayers like these feel a little weird or
uncomfortable? That’s good! Give His Spirit permission and be ready to ride a
Spirit Wind. I did, and it awoke something napping in me.
Fondly, Deacon Willie
Thursday, April 26, 2018
What's That Smell?
What’s
that smell?
26 April 2018
Leon to Mazarrife
I’ve had three days of this imagery and it is so
alive in me. I hope to share it in a way you might appreciate it and find
benefit in you.
Recall the last time you were before the cooler that
housed fresh cut flowers. Perhaps you’ve
been in one lately. Before fellow flower lovers are such a bounty of color and
texture. Set before us are shades of
soft pink, deep rose, blood red and shades in between. Other gorgeous colors are there- tangerine-orange,
apricot, and of course, butter-yellows.
The array of color does not compare to the fragrances. It is such a banquet of bouquets for our
sight and especially the smells. Oh yes, what a delight to drink into our
nostrils!
I’ve long ago learned to stop and smell the roses,
in fact, any fragrant growing thing.
Everything from their delicate little petals, the rich palette of color,
to their breath-taking aroma makes them such a gift to behold. True?
Here it is. God provides grace, that is, His gifts
to us moment by moment. The graces of each day are like stepping into that
floral cooler. Sometimes we stop and drink it in, to be present to them, to
drink in the fragrance. Other times we might notice, but pass right by. I’m
guilty of this at times.
My Camino has been the journey through this
metaphorical floral cooler. Along these
few days our sweet Lord has been presenting me with one bouquet after another. And
as fragrant as it is to open the cooler door, I have also recognized another
odor- a not-so-pleasant odor that has been bugging me with the question-“What’s
that smell?” More later.
The first bouquet gifted me occurred on my first day
in Barcelona. Fr. Oriel, a fellow intern
in our spiritual direction intern class, generously arranged a visit and
hosting with his parents who live in Barcelona.
This young 70’s couple treated me with such kindness and generosity.
Tours of one of my dream locations, Manressa and Montserrat, places where St.
Ignatius received his inspiration for the spiritual exercises that I’ve studied
these past years. This was such a gift,
not to be outdone by Maria Delores paella (seafood, meat, and rice medley)- my
absolute favorite. Then Joaquin took us for a night tour of the famed, Sagrada
Familia. This is one of Europe’s famed, cathedrals. Spain claims it as its top tourist
attraction. What makes it magnificent is
that it is a stone carved structure that has carved images of the birth, death,
and resurrection of Christ. More
amazing, construction started in 1882 and hopes to be completed in 2024. I was
most humbled that these Barcelonans treated me as a son. What a precious sweet smelling grace. Then it
came.
Sometime during that day and night a thought
whispered, “Willie, remember, you’re 67 years old. You’re doing the Camino
again?” Then it was as if a whiff of some foul odor drifted in, confusing me right
in the middle of this gift with my new friends and our visit.
I caught myself thinking, “What’s that smell?” I did my best to dismiss it and moved on.
Another bouquet gifted me while in Leon. Gratefully the flight was uneventful. A simple taxi ride got me to my chosen
albergue (al berg gay) a hostel run by Benedictine nuns. Being a history addict, I found another
bouquet in history tours of the Cathedral of Leon and its town. Relics of church treasures dating back 200
years before Columbus were awe-inspiring to me.
When would I ever lay my eyes of such things?! It was such a beautiful
thing to behold not to be outdone by the closing of this first night. The good sisters invite pilgrims to share in
their singing of evening prayer. This ancient chapel of beauty and grace was
filled with pure love and praise to God by their singing. I recognized the day as
another bouquet of spiritual grace. Then it
came again.
“Willie, you can be hurt on the Camino-remember the
gruesome blisters, tendentious in your knee, stabbing back pain from your pack?”
All true. The odor returned with the same question, “What’s that smell?” Again,
I worked to dismiss it amongst all the fragrances of so many wonderful gifts.
This brings me to this first day walk on the
Camino. Another more gorgeous bouquet
was sent my way. The weather was a spectacular sunny, spring day, mid 60’s, and
fields of fresh, verdant wheat plants and canola plants (two foot high small
plants with prolific lemon-yellow blossoms). As if this wasn’t enough, snow-capped
mountains filled the background. Talk about a bouquet of breath-taking beauty.
I loved all 24km of God’s creation!.
Another bouquet fell in my path with the meeting of
five fellow pilgrims. On the Camino, pilgrims are eager to meet and get to know
each other right away. This is because of the nature of pilgrimage. We all seek insight into our lives, and the
chance visit with a new pilgrim often sheds new light. My bouquets came from
two pilgrims. One who shared that she was walking the Camino to accompany her
friend whose son was murdered. What a heartache
to carry with a friend. The other came from a delightful lady who opened my
eyes to really see the artistic beauty in trees. She is an artist and specializes in Byzantine
art. Her work was fascinating and unique in that her artistic gifts are called
upon even in Italy to complete sacred art for Catholic churches. Such is the
unique gift of meeting Camino pilgrims-more sweet-smelling fragrances of God’s
graces.
Still that odd, offensive smell hung around. I spent hours soul-searching for the source. By
the end of the day, I found the stinking culprit. It was and is simply fear.
This dirty little invasion challenged my confidence, it preoccupied my
thinking, and tried to steal my joy. What a power fear can hold; what a greater
power is love.
The spiritual bouquet I am most grateful today is
recognizing the useless energy spent in fear.
Perhaps you might relate. What do
you most fear in your life? How much space does it occupy in your head? Is it
crowding out the other beauties already in your life?
These were the challenges fear made on my early
Camino. God only knows what is ahead.
Fear adds nothing, so I choose to live in the present and trust in Him to carry
me through whatever lies ahead. His graces will fragrance the journey if I stay
open and give Him permission.
That floral cooler is open. Step inside and feast your senses. And if you detect an odd stench, ask yourself
what fear might be lingering within. Once you find it, give it a toss. That’s
what I did, and it’s made the world of difference.
That was God’s gift to me today. I pray it will gift yours as well.
Fondly, Deacon Willie
Thursday, April 19, 2018
Re-recalled to Pilgrimage
April 19, 2018
Re-recalled to
Pilgrimage
I am humbled and oh, so
grateful. I am about to embark on my third Pilgrimage to el Camino de
Santiago. I completed, by God’s grace, the
full 500 mile pilgrimage in 2013 and 2015.
I prepare to walk from central Spain’s city of Leon and proceed
200 miles to the Cathedral of Santiago.
My calling to
pilgrimage was born during prayer time.
In each call, God found a profound and penetrating way to nudge His Way
through the distractions of my life to hear His invitation to walk the Camino with
Him. I often chuckle at my bargaining with Him, “Lord, couldn’t we have these
talks during a simple walk in the neighborhood? On a couple mile walking trail?
Or just sitting at the patio enjoying Your
creation?
Yes, of course, God
would and does speak to me and you at these places and many other surprising
places throughout a typical day and in typical places. God is in all things and
everywhere. However, for me, it is along this pilgrimage during long days of
silence, freedom from all distractions, and absence from all busyness that my
Jesus conversations get deeper and more intimate. I get tastes of this in my everyday life, but
nothing compares to the 24/7 full immersion into prayer while on pilgrimage.
Another undeniable
dimension of each Camino calling is that I strongly sensed He had a particular message
He wanted to share with me, and at length, while on pilgrimage. I only needed
to know I must “have faith” and trust in whatever His plan might be. Regardless
of the purpose, I know I would be rewarded with miles and miles, hours upon
hours of talking with our Lord along Spain’s breathtaking natural scenic
beauty. Another wonderful dimension is that it naturally evolves into a
disposition of listening. To really
listen. I love this! That is, to settle my mind, to be silent, and to open my heart to whatever
message He may wish for me.
A pilgrimage by
definition is “a journey to a holy place.”
In truth, all of us are on pilgrimage. We are all fellow pilgrims on the
path God has set before us. And wherever our path is and whatever’s ahead, it
is holy because it is what God chose for us. There may be side trails we
follow, but our destination is the same. Heaven.
The experiences between
now and heaven is traveled in a mystery of faith. His hand holds ours along our
journey home. You take one hand; I’ll take the other and enjoy this Camino side
trail with me. I believe we’ll experience a piece of heaven right here on
earth. For our peace comes in holding His hand, our love is being held by Him,
and our joy is in the mystery of faith as He leads us.
Look for future blog
entries starting about 25 April. I welcome emails along The Way. Text messages
are limited.
Buen Camino! (Good
journey) Deacon Willie
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