Monday, April 30, 2018

That’s Enough for Me



That’s Enough for Me



That’s Enough for Me



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



God, my way



God, my way



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?

I found my imagination engaged in a long and inviting dialogue.  I imagined myself listening tender-heartedly to how this belief system developed.  This included listening non-judgmentally. The source of some fallen away is that they were not and perhaps, never listened to. 
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 Surprise



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


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

What’s That Smell



What’s That Smell



What’s That Smell



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