He Carried Me

9 October 2015

Molineseca

He Carried Me

After the mountain top comes the valley. I descended from Cruz de Ferro to the town of Molinesca. There were reports the past few days that pilgrims are falling and having painful injuries trying to make the descent several thousand feet into Molinesca.

The trail was painful and terrifying for me. After the straining climb to the mountain top, my quads and legs were jello like. The hour or so rest did me well, but it was all to be rechallenged by the walk down. Making it even more painful was that the trail is made of irregularly shaped and scattered rocks over a hard clay. Gratefully, there trail was dry. Nonetheless, it was a tedious and vigilant step by step movement for whatever looked like a secure foothold.

Sometimes the choice was a surprise and my foot would skid down and away. Thank God for my poles. I lived on them all the way. Each step was an adventure, a prayerful hope, or call it a miracle of safety.

Aside from the complete exertion of the downward steps, I was still nearly a mile in elevation overlooking the Spanish countryside. It was nothing short of breathtaking. A random, crazy thought crossed my mind, " I am so overwhelmingly happy right now. No, make that joyful!" God's creation in a grand splendor stretched before me. And stretched, and stretched, and stretched. It stretched for 26km until I approached the town.

I had high hopes of staying at the same albergue I had a dramatic experience at during my first Camino. For those who have heard my stories, this is the one where the lady who managed the albergue with two other men fought for me to have a space for a meal when it was determined that the dining area was, "Completo!"

I dragged into the place and collapsed after the long, treacherous mountain descent. I imagined my guardian angel lying on the tile floor panting. He was lying there collapsed from exhaustion and was looking up at me. My mind's eye saw him raise one eyebrow and respond to our crazy walk, "Really, DW? Really?! You're killing me here." It's my funny imagination run wild.

After checking in, showering, and settling I went to have a good conversation with that lady again. I first asked for a photo with the four of us. They all were confused and flattered at the same time. She said something funny evidently because all Spanish speakers laughed when she ran for the house dog and held it up in front of her for the photo. You can fill in the blank.

With the help of a Spanish speaker in the lounge, I explained the story of two years ago after the memorable snow storm and rain from Cruz de Ferro to Molenesca. All three vividly remembered it. With the language assist, I shared my fond gratitude for the way she argued to squeeze another place for me at the dining table. Then I shared that I wrote about the event in a play format which was video recorded. You kindness was played by a lady to show how to offer hope and kindness to others. I expained that I show it at churches when I do Camino talks.

"You mean I am in a movie?" she asked incredulously. Fame and flattery flooded her experession. "I am in a movie?"

"Yes," I replied, "because I want to let people learn how you let God's love show to me. This will teach others to be as kind as you are."

She let out a burst of joyful laughter and asked, "Show me dat movie. You can show me?"

I explained that it was recorded from my talk at our church and it is still on the internet. She bubbled over with anticipation, "You show me. You write down da place so I see. Yes? Ok?"

After a delightful dinner I found the episode on our parish website and showed her. She and another lady watched the event, unfortunately no sound was available, but the acting of it was enough. Both ladies gushed with happiness at seeing the event that turned out to be her arguing with her husband and the other co owner of the place. She belly laughed at the memory of it and of how convincing she can be. Then she forced me to write the web address for her to see again. That I did. She nearly danced out of the place on the way home.

Sharing the retelling of that event and witnessing the pure joy it gave to someone who works sun up to sun down with nothing more than a new troop of battle weary pilgrims to serve the next day lifted me. He lifted me so that I could lift up another.

Overall, the day was a shower of blessings. I could have said, "I made it. Lucky me." However, I know better. I arrived safely because He carried me. God heard my every desperate prayer that matched each footstep. I floated in His arms of grace. Perhaps only that I might bring a beam of new joy and purpose to someone who would not be intimidated in the fight for kindness.

I pray my sharing of the story does something in faith life of Christina Blanco, the name of the lady who fought for kindness . As I see it, perhaps God was using the story as a way to carry her. Another exhausting day of serving pilgrims can lose its personal effect. Affirmation is vital in carrying people through the mundane of "just another day."

You might just be the person Jesus needs to help carry another to feel His kindness, His hope, His strength when the journey is oh so difficult. And especially those who have others who work under your suppervision, an affirming story is about them is empowering. It carries profound kindness and revitalized hope in the soul of the work-weary worker. Consider the power your words can be. I witnessed it first hand and was deeply moved.

In humble gratitude,

Deacon Willie, Dw