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 9^th 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