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
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