And so Christmas slips by

In this season of life there is so much more time to remember. And for me, I have a constant background hum of reflecting on what has gone down in the past, either recent or distant. And then there are days when my pull toward reflecting is unusually high and a desire to sit in a philosophical frame of mind and write is upon me. Today is such a day. 

Normally I would be on my 8 mile walk. And that is no small thing seeing that Dr Panek has returned my right knee to service and 40 - 45 mile weeks are again the norm....so grateful to Jesus for this gift of restoration! Pure gift! But this morning, I am going to give the joints a break as certain parts have made it known they could use some down time.....37 miles will be enough for this week.

So yes, reflection and being in a philosophical mind-set are all fine and well but I lack a focal point today. I'm just aware of the desire to try and capture some little tidbit, an insight, an observational breakthrough that brings that satisfying sigh (much like I hear horses do when they finally relax and surrender to the moment).

As I sit in my inner sanctum, so lovingly provided by the love of my life, I am surrounded by the mementos of a Santiago life. I wrote a rough draft of a haiku just this morning that relates to this citadel of peace that Father has provided through my beloved. It goes like this:

My inner sanctum
A 3-D bulletin board
Full of life's tchotchkes

It's true, there is no more wall space. There are pictures, shelves and things hanging chock-a-block everywhere you look. And I love it! It so suits me although it drives Sandi crazy in it's Moulon-Rouge- Hollywood set motif. The Israelites had a difficult time remembering the things for which God had delivered them and provided for them as they were lead to the promised land. My room is essentially one big cairn of at least some of the bigger things that have gone down in my sojourn. Yet still, I often need reminding and re-framing to remember with right thinking the grace and mercy I have experienced.

Another haiku of this morning:

2020,geesh!
So much pain in just one year
Does 'normal' ever return?

Sandi and I were going along relatively unscathed by all the covid fallout as recent as ten days ago. But then December 16 arrived with a scheduled tread mill test because of some symptoms Sandi had been having. Within 24 hours, an angiogram, a 99% blockage, squishing it back open and a stent deployed and Bam!, your better half is now known medically as someone with coronary artery disease. 

And so today, we quarantine in our house and from each other for a ten day stint. This unwelcome task is based on the prudence of assuming Sandi brought back covid from United Hospital's covid-dripping halls and walls. Thus, we are taking it a day at a time as we get our arms around a fresh life message of life as finite, of being in a canoe with an unknown flotation life cycle. No matter what 2021 may have in store, there are certain realities that are inescapable. That we are in the 7th inning, that we have just touched or rounded third base. These are not the thinking of a depressed or negative man. They are simply the facts of a life that now provides time to think and reflect. And the bottom-line hope that shapes and re-directs such sobering thoughts? 

Just this: "So if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your mind on things that are above, not on things that are on the earth, for you have died and your life is hid with Christ. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory."      "Have this mind among yourselves which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant and being born in the likeness of man. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death- even death on a cross.  Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

So thank you Jesus! Thank you for gently ushering us through the twists and turns that make up the swirl of life. As we peer through the darkened glass of our observation deck, we take our rest in you, we trust in you, not in our sight, and we surrender ourselves afresh into your hands with which we were created. Jesus Christ, elixir of life!  Maranatha!!

                                                                                                                                          

The minimalism of pithy writing

Found myself sitting in the woods several days ago. Thinking of how I love to write... to ponder what I am experiencing in my walk. I have found that I love the essence of things, I love things condensed into a potent elixir of efficiency. There are such things as: 3 fingers of whisky neat, espresso coffee, one-line summaries, a well-timed, meaningful glance, a pregnant pause, one-word retorts.......

As I sat thinking about this I was inexplicably drawn to consider poetry, which I most definitely know nothing about. Consulting Google brought me across the Japanese poetry form of haikus. Just three lines, seventeen syllables in a 5-7-5 pattern. Boom! I was hooked and wrote my first two on my phone as I sat on a log soaking up the wood's silence.

So, without further ado, this initial set of Santiago Haikus. I envision the possibility of reading these some years from now and having no idea what I was thinking. But for the moment, they speak to me....

So many ask me                                                                    
now what with so much more time?                                        
answer: slowing down

Three miles in an hour
sweet synching of sanity
ever so precious

My gluttonous blog
versus the spartan haiku
such a sweet balance

Walk into the woods
silence, solitude, so good
heart sighs in relief

Police scanner mind
little red lights keep searching
for brief contentment

Christmas tree is up
mid-November kinda soon
two stories, two sides

Johnny Appleseed
so effortlessly carefree
in all his travels

So long my house church
Together eight years but now
New day begs birthing

So blissfully free
sunlight advocates drifting
carried, not striving

Summer meadowlark
There as a boy, now so gone
I must find you soon

Marathon challenge
four times over but not five
fresh out of reasons

My blog posts blather
haikus: punchy espresso
each word lifts own weight

And so ends this debut. Jesus, thank you for the simple pleasure of expressing with words. You created us with this capacity which separates us from the animal kingdom. A reflection of the image in which we were created... created in the image of God. Magnificent Lord! Thank you!

Tree is up

Early-ish November and the Christmas tree is already up and decorated! Why so early one might ask? Covid lockdowns, 2020 chaos, diminished options, life re-focused on the home-front, it was a warm day and we wouldn't freeze working out on the porch. That kind of thing....

At least I am not lighting it at night quite yet. Don't want to get the neighbors all agitated about seeing some eager-beavers who may be accused of jumping the gun. Still, it's good to have that done and for Sandi being done doing her specialty....putting on the lights in a masterful way. Trouble is, she hates doing it and a pre-lit tree has been in the on-deck-to-be-purchased circle for years.

So, our little, artificial tree. Gazing at this compact gem out on our porch, behind glass, makes it seem like it is ensconced in a perfect jewel box. We put on the ornaments together this year. I guess we usually do. My box is marked Colaizy and hers is marked Flegle. Ornaments representing two individuals, two prior families, two complete histories, lots of stories and plenty of heartache and disappointment mixed in. Oh the emotions, the ache, the bitter sweetness and the quiet joy that is evoked as I stare at this tree..... 

Sandi puts "her" ornaments on the left side of the tree. They are very nice and they commemorate many years of Christmases past with her husband and three children. I know they represent all kinds of memories for her. That is only normal and natural but still there is a kind of mysterious, haunting feel to me as I look at them. They stand for chapters of her life before I ever knew her. Life details which, even if attempted to be explained, will never be fully known by me.

My side is on the right. Every year I put them up I am taken to a place that is a wild mixture of warmth combined with heartache, nostalgia and a sort of a declaration...."Well, here I am!" "My" ornaments come from the period of time when, after being divorced and finally setting up shop as a single dad, I had the need for a tree and something to hang on it. My mom and dad kindly gave me an old bottle-brush tree. They also graced me with a hodgepodge of ornaments that had once hung on the Colaizy family tree but were now relegated to obsolete retirement. Some of them are ancient looking, sort of faded and over a 100 years old. Others are just plain dumb....like the little M&M dancing candy guy. As if he has anything to do with Christmas! There's the rather large, red, wooden cardinal. That one needs a sturdy branch...its heavy. There are an assortment of straw and light wooden ornaments in cool shapes and a couple of miniature creches.

At the top of the tree is a little, pale brown, fabric angel that perilously perches on the top, aided only by being rather unceremoniously impaled by a branch. Still, it's one of my favorites with her utter humility and apparent bravery in her role as sentinel over all of the holiday festivities. But my favorite of all, oh my, my very favorite is the "miracle ornament".

It consists of two parts: a reindeer with reins leading back to a red and green sleigh carrying Santa and many gifts sticking out. And that is not all ginzu knife lovers...... There are little tiny lights along the reins and, when you activate the switch on the back of the sleigh, a fast-paced version of jingle bells plays and the few remaining lights that work blink. So?  "Yeh, it sounds cute and all but why the miracle label?"  I am glad you asked.....

I have had "my" ornaments now since 1992. That is 28 years....28 years of annual storage in a wide-variety of places in my many moves. Years in garage attics where summer temps climb into astronomical numbers only to be followed by months of mind-numbing, subzero onslaughts  Much moving, jostling, dust, moths, ants, cobwebs, boxing and unboxing. Every year my girls and I have a bit of a ritual.  After I have decorated the tree and my now grown daughters come over during Christmas, we go to the tree with bated breath and switch on the little black switch. And each year, without exception, Santa and his sleigh perform their song and light show. And the miracle? Whatever battery is fueling this little gem has never been replaced, even looked at!.....28 years without a hitch!

Yep, that's our tree. A co-mingling of stories from the past, some known, many never to be known. With little hanging testimonies that serve to remind me of a life lost, then regained, with a new life partner and additional family members.  And all of the complex stories of our blended family continue with new chapters being written and performed. And the tree? Oh gosh, that little humble tree. For two months of the year, it comes out to quietly testify of what preceded our present day. It depicts such a potent mixture of grace, rescue, mystery, pain, hope for a future and lots of love.... all represented in these little hanging fixtures. Thank you for loving us Father!

An amalgam of random

 As I sit down to write today, I am aware of several seemingly random threads I feel moved to riff on. They aren't necessarily tied to a particular theme. Still, they feel legit and I don't want them to stay unvoiced merely hoping they will fit in somewhere another time....

Be -vs- Do

As covid numbers continue their fall surge, I am struck by what may be at least partially causing some of the malaise/weariness so commonly being reported. What was normal has not seen so much dishevel since WWII, or maybe the great depression. Most of us have had to adapt to having nowhere to really go and much less to do in the face of lock downs. Shopping is curtailed, layoffs increase exponentially and dining-out cycles between take-out only and 50% limited seating for those brave enough to give it a whirl. Long term care residents live in forced seclusion and travel is risky if not totally limited by the ever-changing pandemic policies. And on it goes......

A sort of ontological lightness is loose in the land. To the extent our identity is coming mostly from our doing rather than our being, one's sense of self can be significantly shaken by the limitations of the day.  I can't help seeing a connection to what I have experienced the first hours/days of any retreat of solitude and silence. As the superficial and artificial aspects of Santiago are quieted, as the silence and solitude bid me to just be and to let go of doing, it is not unusual to feel some initial panic/disorientation at the loss of much of what typically defines me.

But what of all those not accustomed to this type of spiritual discipline? The identity disruption covid has unleashed is undoubtedly a brutal shock. In the bias of my world view, I can only hope and pray that these circumstances may lead a great number to the alternative, invisible world of the dome in which God is King. May the eyes of many hearts be opened wide to the Author of an eternal kingdom that will not be shaken!

A Blessing....of Aging....really!

The drawbacks of seeing one's body age are obvious.  Physical capacities diminish, healing takes longer and the image I see in the mirror reflects this ancient-looking intruder-dude. Yikes!! Sobering signposts of the dwindling sands of life's hourglass. But I have recently been able to appreciate some advantages of being Santiago 7.3:

It has gotten progressively easier not to be as tempted by the b.s. my old nature keeps trying to sell. There is an awareness that time is no longer unlimited (was it ever so?) and it is more obvious that now is all I have. I don't argue as much with myself, I don't resist or fight as much against what I know to be the right thing to do. There is much less temptation to demand myself to stay independent, autonomous. I am so much more thoroughly sold on the absolute futility of blind self-trust. I have substantially accepted the fact that apart from Jesus I can do nothing. It is becoming easier to submit to this spiritual truth as simply the way life works in the kingdom. The hot fires and whipping winds of unbridled youth have been tamed down by the weight of years lived.  Heh, this is a good thing and I am embracing it!

An Orthopedic walk in the dark....such  a thin place.

Just two days ago I had right knee surgery to cut out some torn, medial meniscus.  My long walks of the last year had evidently taken a toll. There was no particular time of injury...it was just the cumulative result of miles upon miles of pursuing a passion for silence and solitude and time with God that my long walks serve so well.

Sandi was my designated driver. Because of covid, she was not allowed to accompany me into the surgery center. She was going to sort of camp out in the Highlander while I had the procedure. It was very early in the morning, pitch dark, quiet, and outside was filled with cold, crisp air. We had a sweet time of chatting in the parking lot...we prayed together. I opened the door and took what turned out to be a significant walk toward what awaited me. 

I imagine one would have to understand my mindset to better understand what follows.  For some time, my reading and the focus of my desire has revolved around pressing through mere intimacy into a deeper union with Jesus. My grip upon my self, my rights, my way, my me has been being loosened. As such, the fact that I was about to be put asleep brought my focus onto the door of consciousness that I was about to go through. I was voluntarily going to give up my grip on consciously existing and submit to the mysterious world of unconsciousness.  As I try and describe it now it seems a bit ridiculous.... maybe overblown?  Regardless, that morning, during that walk, I said in my heart goodbye to Sandi, goodbye to my life and consciously surrendered myself into the hands of Father. 

It was a holy transaction....a place of weightiness. I was aware of a deep relinquishing of my will and an acceptance of transition into the kingdom reality that awaits.  Oh my.... it feels futile to even try and describe the essence of it. Yet I do so to remind myself of the beautiful, peaceful holiness of the surrender I was willing to make if my time here was up.  It was profound....it was a sober, peaceful bubble with a backdrop of bitter sweetness for what I was relinquishing...Father was there...I was willing....I guess enough said.

Transition to next chapters...

I believe the recovery process of this recent surgery offers me a sort of natural transition. As for so many, 2020 has been a year that defies description. Lots of loss, plenty of chaos, sources of free anxiety by the handful. My Camino calling unrealized, now freshly mourned, with uncertainty as to whether it may ever be resurrected. As the long dark nights of winter approach, I stand ready for what comes next. My radar shows a fast-approaching season of finally submitting to Sandi's vision of diet and nutrition. Not exactly a heroic move on my part. I do so amid the shambles of sloppy eating habits that have long been candidates for crucifixion. 

My dream right now is to receive sufficient healing to regain full walking capacity. To continue in reaching for the 'more' Father has for Sandi and I, to squeeze out what can be had from what we have been given. Time is so much shorter now. Intentionality feels so vital. Consider me woke!

Stay suited up Santiago....the game is not over......

Jimmy - Jim -- James - Santiago....What's the deal?

As my mind continues along a spectrum from sharp to duller, thought I would seed some words of explanation as it relates to the process of becoming Santiago. This way, 5 years from now, when I have completely forgotten how I got to wherever I end up, I can come back to this Reese's Pieces trail and recreate the journey.

As a kid I was Jimmy to my parents, relatives and others. I remember a little red felt hat that came from the Mn State Fair that had 'Jimmy' stitched on the front.  There you go, proof positive that Jimmy was the kid that I was because hats just don't lie!  As the years went on, I morphed into simply Jim, short and sweet and without the cutesy little boy ring. I was Jim for a very long time.  Although my given name is James (after my father's middle name) I never liked being referred to by it. It just seemed too formal, too stiff, too stuffy, too dressed up for me.

Fast forward many years to my first Wild at Heart bootcamp. It was 2003 and I was about to go through a weekend in the mountains of Colorado that would forever change me. A retreat with 300+ other men that came with expectant hearts...hearts which yearned to gain deeper access and understanding of our role as men in the kingdom of God.  As the weighty weekend progressed, we came to a session called The New Name.  We were referred to Rev 2:17 ".....To him who conquers I will give some of the hidden manna, and I will give him a white stone, with a new name written on the stone which no one knows except him who receives it."  Before being dismissed for a time alone with God, we were instructed to ask God what his name was for us.  

I confess that I knew little beforehand about what this weekend was going to cover or any of it's agenda....except for one thing. I had somehow heard about the "new name" deal.  As I anticipated the weekend, it became a major point of anxiety for me. What if I didn't hear anything from Father? I pictured everyone reconvening, all excited about what they had heard. What if I had heard/received nothing? As the weekend progressed, we were spending frequent times alone with God as we pondered the questions we were assigned in between sessions. Once dismissed, we each kind of disappeared into the mountainous terrain for solitude. We generally had about 35 or 40 minutes and it was important not to be late when time to return.. I found my own special place to go at Frontier Ranch. It required me to hustle because it took 5 or 6 minutes one way. But when I got there, with the mountain at my back, under a rock outcropping and overlooking a spectacular valley, I knew I had found a special place....a thin place brimming with silence and solitude!

After asking Jesus what he knew me as, what he called me, my answer was not long in coming. I heard from him very clearly although not without some confusion. "James, friend of Christ, warrior, restorer in the army of heaven". James?  Really? Even though it was never used, that was just my given name. Restorer? What is that supposed to mean? Friend of Christ....really....really Lord? Warrior?....wow! Regardless of my questions, I knew in my 'know-er' that I had accurately heard from Abba and I held tightly to what he had said and the precious white stone it was to me. 

As this is merely a blog and not an epic novel, suffice it to say that the next 10 to 15 years brought me an ever-increasing understanding of my name James and how Jesus viewed me through it. My identity in Christ continues being developed, transformed and increasingly grasped by me as the years of my life tick by. Three years after that bootcamp, I received an invitation to be part of a small intercessor team that was a behind-the-scenes part of each Colorado weekend. It was April, 2006 and one of our six-member team, Jesse, had just returned from walking the Camino de Santiago across northern Spain.

As we initially gathered for our first session together, we exchanged names and told a bit about ourselves. After what I shared, Jesse responded to me with these words: "James huh....I shall call you Santiago." And he did, throughout the weekend and I loved it. In Spanish it literally means: Saint James, who of course was one of the twelve apostles of Christ. Despite this lofty literal definition, it seemed somehow right even though I had no particular reason as to why it did. Jesse, my younger brother by 40 years, had bestowed the name of Santiago on me for a weekend. The glorious weekend ended and with it this new name, at least as it related to me, went dormant for a bit.

A couple of years went by and the name Santiago drifted in and out of my consciousness. Meanwhile, I found myself among some friends who regularly shared each other's "blog" postings. Not knowing what a blog was, I did some investigation and began to read what they were writing. I was inspired to give it a whirl and in Feb., 2008 this very blog I am typing in today was born...500' Flyby.

It was interesting to look back and see that I often started referring to myself as Santiago at the close of many of my blog postings. As a matter of fact, it was only a few weeks from my initial post that the name Santiago made it's appearance. Obviously the echo of that profound weekend five years earlier and the name Santiago which accompanied it had not disappeared from my mind. Twelve years have gone by since those early posts. Today, many people in several circles exclusively refer to me as Santiago. Most times, it's how I introduce myself.  But you might ask, "So what?" 

Well for me it's a bigger deal than would initially appear to the casual observer. Why?  Because as the years of my life have piled up, my focus has grown very intentional on a more intimate, authentic union with Christ. It has definitely come to define an increasingly significant part of my life. I am aware that the man I am today is an active work in kingdom progress and I can clearly see the marks of the divine potter upon the clay of who I am ever- becoming. Santiago is a new name for me. I believe it is neither capricious nor accidental.

And so, as my old friend Walter Cronkite (whom I so desperately miss in these dystopian times) used to say, "And that's the way it is....." Santiago for me is no gimmick. Nor is it merely a re-branding of the old me. Although I have far to go, I am indeed saint James by dint of the finished work of Jesus Christ upon the cross, his resurrection from the dead and his ascension back to the right hand of the Father. The name Santiago provides me a constant reminder of who I am and how I am known in the kingdom as opposed to the world's labels and opinions of me. It grounds me in the invisible truth of who I am in Christ. It refocuses my temptation to be anxious, self-critical, judgemental, angry and foul-mouthed onto Paul's exhortation: to seek the things that are above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. And it rekindles my ultimate hope that when Christ who is my life appears then I also will appear with him in glory!

"And that's the way it is ...."   

Good Santiago....as they say in baseball..."ya got a piece of it". That's good for now...

 

 

Some projects are deeper than others - Part 2 -

So I believe Papa has guided my thinking around to questioning my oft-repeated "I'm not innately drawn to community like so many others seem to be" line. Upon further reflection, I see there are telltale signs in my life that community is indeed of interest and appealing. I loved my time in Boy Scouts, the fellowship of badges and camping and adventure. Camp Tomahawk was a week of glory, parking cars at the State Fair and living on site together was so good. Swimming team in high school was satisfying and brought a strong sense of belonging, shared experiences and accomplishments. My time as a shadow warrior was amazing...being called up and into something bigger than myself, sense of belonging, vital, shared work, adventure...so thankful for that Jesus.There is also this nagging sense that being in the armed services could have, at least at some levels, been very rewarding (minus the pesky problem of war).

So my self-description of the last years, ie. as a person not particularly drawn to community, is just not the truest truth. I am and have been drawn into some community but not necessarily all or any form of community. I have begun to take a closer look at what lies behind my feelings regarding community. This has led me to focus on the experience of relational rejections and betrayals that have accumulated in the grab bag of my 73 year sojourn. This is pretty fresh stuff and represents pure frontier for me. My inner hunger is such that risking increased vulnerability seems more reasonable than ever before.... whatever it takes to pursue deeper authenticity and surrender to the Father's restorative work in my life.

So yesterday I went to the beach with my trusty little journal covering 12 years of infrequent entries. I sat at a picnic table and listed as many individuals/instances of rejection/betrayal as I could remember. There were many and I suspect it is a woefully incomplete list. Nonetheless, it was sobering to revisit so many traumas of varying degrees and to begin to see at least some of how it has all been incorporated into my life.

There is no question I have woven a web of methods for keeping others at arm's length, of keeping expectations very low and of sidestepping perceived problems....often times with apparent ease and even finesse. While that might be an understandable, self-protective strategy in reaction to previous wounds, what is not acceptable is camouflaging these behaviors as something they are not. It's not that I lack an innate draw to community. It's that I have layered myself with protection in order to prevent additional hurts from fresh rejection/betrayals. Stating this for what it actually is brings a mixture of relief for being more honest with myself coupled with an uneasiness in opening a new vulnerability door.

 I recently described some of this to Sandi and included my desire to being open (yet scared-to-death) of increased vulnerability in order to lift the limits that guarding myself has upon our relationship. There is only so much 'more' to be had in a partnership where one or both have definite limits on self-disclosure.

Yikes! Sorry, but writing this feels like absolute rubbish.... like stating the obvious, breathlessly describing what most people already know. But heh, for me it is a breakthrough into a greater willingness to be more brutally honest and exposed. My secret weapon in doing this....? Throwing myself with increased abandon into the arms of he with whom I have to do....my Abba! Ultimately my protection against the rawness of making myself more vulnerable and at risk....Jesus. He has promised to have my back and be my bottom line!

So no, I am not some self-sufficient, modern-day hermit with no need of others. I have a deep desire to be seen and understood, to be known by others, to be correctable, to be coach-able. I have incurred thousands of connection experiences in my life with lovers and friends. It's a real mixed bag of some good and plenty of not-so-good. My natural response has been to lower my expectations of human interactions and to always have a protective shield within easy reach.  I can see that I am continually on the lookout for connection, especially where there is enough resilience present to endure mutual authenticity without fear of losing the connection.

Father, thank you that you are my ultimate connection! Help me to stay at the work of loving and connecting with others. Give me your attitude, your heart when it comes to the disappointments and the defenses I developed in response to the many times of being misjudged, misunderstood, unnoticed, unheard, unappreciated and unloved. I so appreciate that you became a human, you experienced all of the above, you stayed true through it all and you offer me your mind which is mine through Christ Jesus. You said "...apart from me you can do nothing." Jn 15:5  Thank you for offering yourself as my way out of the limitations of my past experience. Thank you for restoring me, for your work of transformation in me. Help me to get out of your way. Holy Spirit, I give you permission to continue the work of remaking me into your image, of healing my relational wounds and of continuing the work of making me aware of lies and the agreements I have made with them. I break each and every one of those agreements. Your unconditional love of me and your invitation to me into son-ship with you is my bottom line.

Maranatha my dear Lord!

Some projects are deeper than others Part 1

It has been a rewarding summer..... my outside projects were both satisfying and solid investments in the  property we have been graced to live upon.  There was the redo of much of the west side split-rail fence, the rebuilding of the egress window retaining wall, restaining the cedar on the front side of the house, refinishing two outdoor benches. I do truly love envisioning what needs doing and then following through with initiating and completing the tasks at hand.  Working with my hands really blesses me.....it really does.

So with the list of projects complete (for now), I couldn't help but wonder about other things I might do (I mean there is a pandemic underway.)  Meanwhile, in my ongoing pursuit of deeper intimacy with Jesus, I became aware of a desire to also take a look under the hood of my relationship with Sandi. Although no apparent issues of any significance were on my radar, there is the occasional 'check engine' light.  Being retired and around each other continually has motivated me to wonder if there isn't something more that could be found in our partnership. What better investment could there be than in the dynamics of my partnership with this eternal, complicated gift from God? One thing led to another and I was introduced to "emotionally focused therapy" principles explained in the book Created for Connection by Sue Johnson. This book solidified my belief that there was indeed much more potentially available and this was accompanied by a call upon me to pursue it. Now here was a project that was of the mind, will and emotions rather than my hands....frontier for Santiago.

I wasn't sure how my mate would react.  Past comments of hers indicated she didn't view counseling/counselors all that well.  Some past negative experience seemed at work there.  Nonetheless, she was not opposed to my initiative and explained it would be on me to establish any momentum in this arena.  Ok, for me that was good enough.  After all, I wasn't out to fix anything particularly broken, I merely believed that there was 'more' to be had and that it seemed very worthwhile to pursue.

This and at least one other subsequent post will attempt to articulate some preliminary discoveries as they relate to me.I have completed my first read of the book and now will be going back over  highlighted areas and summarizing each chapter in a notebook, (I have begun doing this with books that make a significant impact).  At this moment, I am internalizing and digesting what this is touching in me before drawing Sandi too much into some new dance steps.  Is this approach the best?  Time will tell....

As I read and pondered the key tenants of attachment theory, some of my personal outlook is being called into question. Man is created in the image of the triune God, fellowship and connection with others is part of the very kingdom DNA in each of us. The trinity has always existed, the fellowship of the three in one has never not been. It was found to be not good for original man to be alone and  so a helpmate was created. Ultimately, families were formed, communities were formed. Jesus gathered twelve disciples to  teach and initiate the kingdom of God upon the earth.  So much attachment. Such stark contrast with the decidedly western view of the autonomous individual complete in himself and needing no one else to attain self-actualization.

Many times I have confessed to others that I am not innately drawn to community as it seems so many others are.  For me, being part of a house church is based more on obedience to what I believe I am being asked to do by my Father than from a deep, internal longing for community.  The natural current of fellowship does not seem to run so strong in me. Perhaps I am more of the "desert father" type? At least that is what I have heard myself say and  thoroughly believed in so many conversations with others.  Now I am not so sure......

What I cannot deny is an ongoing desire to know and be known. To connect with at least some others at the deepest level. To be entirely authentic. To seek out and destroy posing in my life. To ruthlessly eliminate bullshit in my life (and to cease being so good at it). To be in a vital role, to make a difference. To be a  branch that is dependent solely on the Vine. And ultimately, to one day hear my Father say "Well done good and faithful servant."   

In my readings and reflection over the last bit of time, I see that I seek to do all of the above from the base camp of 'Jesus and me.' If honest, I totally dismiss or sidestep depending on others in my quest to fulfill these needs. Thoughts that I am just a desert father type who finds himself trying to walk out this sojourn with Jesus..., solely Jesus, are simply not ringing true. In reading the potent little book by Julie Canlis, Theology of the Ordinary,(thank you Mike!) she writes: "Who wants to be bound to other Christians who are paying their mortgages, raising kids, or suffering depression when we can be blazing a trail with God on our own?" She goes on to quote Michael Horton, author of the book Ordinary: "It's more fun to be part of movements than churches. We can express our own individuality, pick our favorite leaders, and be swept off our feet at conferences. We can by anonymous."

Julie finishes her paragraph with this gut punch (at least for me): "Scripture, on the other hand, teaches that our growth is bound to that of others (Eph 4:13) and other people take time we don't always want to give. Being anonymous, or an 'individual Christian,' is not an option for those of us who follow a God who Himself refuses to be alone." I have read and heard similar things before but somehow her words, coupled with Horton's, seems to have served up a 'tipping point' for me,  The words 'bound', 'not an option', and 'a God who Himself refuses to be alone'  present to me a type of 'line in the sand'. Santiago, this cavalier 'desert father' reference is just self-serving drivel. Being bound to others/interdependent on each other is what He has for you as well.  What has caused you to think/believe otherwise?

-To Be Continued-

Some dreams just seem to die...

Attended a Zoom Camino meeting yesterday. I entered with a secret hope that just maybe someone more experienced than I could see how my vision to go on a long walk with Jesus across northern Spain may have a way of staying alive. I could draw this blog to a quick close by just injecting at this point "no such luck amigo".

I had already done much of my grieving earlier. Some physical injuries began my questioning and then the reality of the depth of the pandemic painted a rather obvious picture which was not going to accommodate a Sept departure to Madrid. My Kestrel, with price tags still hanging from it, sits quivering on the love seat in my inner sanctum. Inside is all the gear I needed: smart wool tshirt, light synthetic down blanket, international electric converter plug....trust me, it's all there. The round trip flight is booked and paid for, the first 3 critical night's accommodations are reserved and paid for. Travel insurance in place? Yep, got it. There was nothing left to do but physically train and wait for the calendar page to say the right day and number and bam!....on my way to what looked like it just may be the adventure of my life.

At this point I'm not exactly sure why I came here today.  Don't feel like philosophizing on the whole psychology of disappointment, grieving loss and other boo-hoo, poor-little-me items.  Let's face it, my life has been and will continue to be shaken from time to time, I will have difficulties, Jesus promised it. But he also overcame the falleness of the world and offers himself and his ways to me on a daily basis, if only I am smart enough to drink mightily from his cup.

I suppose the knife twist that is most painful is that my daughter Jess was going to join me on the last 25% of the trek. We both imagined a "once-in-a-lifetime" opportunity to rendezvous for what promised to be an epic chapter in our story. Wow! Writing this just now makes me royally pissed off at the thievery that is undoubtedly at least part of this. My adversary continues to steal, kill and destroy and the apparent death of these plans has his hoof prints all over it. And so I know now that I am being called to resist and fight and look to my Redeemer to bring his restoration strategies to bear over these plans (which were as much a calling as just a vision....it is an invitation from the King of Kings!)

And so I do, I submit myself afresh to you God. I honor you as Lord and declare you the author and provider of my life. I know that I know that these were as much your plans as mine. And so I resist my enemy and this robbery that is underway even now. I bring the full authority of Christ, his cross, resurrection and his ascension against every strategy set against Jess and me and I bind, blind and gag the authors of such strategies and banish them from my domain. I throw our plans into your hands Jesus and ask for your redemptive restoration and your solutions for these interruptions. I continue to believe that this was and still is an invitation. Although I can not see how it can work out from my current vantage point, I trust in your love and compassion to bring your alternative to fruition. I believe you Jesus.  I trust you Jesus. You are the only game in town and at the end of the day you and not a trip is what I worship. Come Lord Jesus...reign over these details as you hovered over the dark waters in the beginning. Bring the rubble of demolished plans into your new order and give me eyes to see what you have to say and whatever role you may have me to play.

I worship you Jesus! Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father!!

Vicious, snapping tigers.....

As I have continued  pressing into a deeper union with the Trinity, I have had some fresh insight into a portion of that which holds me captive. In part, this insight has come from a dubious alliance of three sources: the Pause app, a re-reading of the Boyd book: Repenting of Religion and, (true confession), a voyeuristic viewing of Tiger King.

Father often ministers to me in pictures/images/clips that serve as a visual representation of a spiritual dynamic in my life. So check this out: After having Pause app on my phone for months and not using it, I found myself opening it up about 7-10 days ago. Swirling circumstances surrounding family dynamics and personal challenges sent me out in search of additional resources. As I matriculated through the programmed phases of Pause, I recently arrived at the ten minute version which comes with a five minute portion inviting the listener to enter into reflection re: guidance, inner-healing or worship. I have found myself in the inner healing space now for several sessions and found Jesus sitting in the room with me....so grateful!

My fresh dive into the R. of Rel. has been timely and ever so helpful. In those pages I have re-visited the provision, the prohibition, the lie, the curse and my fallen stance in the middle of life's circle as a virtual judging machine. My reading has sharpened my focus on those things that thwart my desire to more deeply join the dance of the Trinity, for union with Christ. And then, as a sort of added bonus, comes an image from my ashamed-to-admit-viewing of the Joe Exotic epic. A mental film clip to give Santiago a visual shorthand of the consequences  of trying to get life from sources outside of dependence on F, S and HS.

As I have considered my Adamic strategies for squeezing out some life juice, as I have held my brokenness before the Father during my Pauses,  a scene from the illicit Netflix series blazed across my mental screen. It was feeding time and twelve to eighteen full-grown tigers were swarming and circling around a grossly insufficient amount of meat for such a ravenous crowd. The image etched its way into my mind as the power, viciousness and desperation of those tigers left an unforgettable representation that Jesus is using to further illuminate my sojourn.

Despite being unaware of the source/point of entry, I trip over the whole issue of scarcity, of there not being enough. There are no obvious instances from my childhood that I can identify. And yet somehow, I actively find myself with a strong aversion and discomfort whenever I perceive scarcity in any of its various forms. This observation is reflected in such diverse affinities as a love for buffets, 30+lb turkeys, drinking out of giant water glasses, having as many back-ups as possible and back-ups for the back-ups for things I use, eat, drink or like, not being content with less than a half a tank of gas and a host of related items I am too tired to list. And at the root of it all? Peel back enough layers of the onion and I am left with an ugly distrust of my Father to faithfully provide for my needs and desires which results in a perceived need to fend for myself.

And this issue with scarcity, which is entirely based on a lie, extends into areas other than just physical things. Not getting proper recognition or credit for a good idea, not being heard or acknowledged, not getting a return email or call, being issued unrequested guidance when I am feeling backed into the corner of unfamiliarity, having my motives or intent judged in an incorrect manner, accusations of all kinds, any version of feeling like someone is taking unfair advantage of me or attempting to buffalo me, all forms of disloyalty... any threat to my cardboard castle of pathetic efforts to stockpile forms of security in the midst of an insecure world. These and many more bring about the snap of a ravenous pack of tigers. Most often the roar of five inch teeth is only heard internally but too often it is growled with razor sharp words dripping with the toxic juice of 'I-am-on-my-own-ness'.

Well, this names at least some of what is at work in the old man of me that sent Jesus onto the cross that I might be ransomed, released and gain admittance into an eternal life of fullness and freedom.

Jesus, thank you for the shorthand of this tiger picture. Despite its ugliness, it is an efficient time-saver in the economy of my self-reflection. As I admit, confess and throw myself into your merciful antidote, keep me from returning to such piles of vomit! You care for me. I have reason to have no anxiety about anything. I need only let my request be known to you, to trust that you've got it and to receive that peace that indeed passes all understanding  Father, help me to look more consistently  through the eyes of my heart than the eyes of my flesh. To better comprehend the breadth, and length and height and depth, to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that I may be filled with all the fullness of God.  May you keep my feet from wandering off this trail that leads to deeper Triune union. Prevent my every effort to wiggle off your stripping table Lord. Jesus, I want to join your eternal dance of freedom and light! Thank you for your grace in hearing me and running up the road ahead of me as you preload each twist and turn with the very provisions I will need.      Maranatha!

And now, a grand interruption.....

So pandemic is now the water we all find ourselves swimming in. My felt need has been to wrestle with the reality and the hugeness of what has been released upon the earth. That it has given my focus on pressing into a deeper intimacy with Jesus a sharp uppercut is putting it mildly.  I have found myself somewhat obsessed in collecting all the facts in a futile effort to get my arms around what defies one getting their arms around. And so I come here to thrash around with words in an effort to exorcise and exercise the effects of living within the opening acts of this Fellini-esque film in which we have all been cast.

I confess to feeling a bit excited at the leveling affect this is having upon culture. Suddenly the 'haves' and the 'have nots' are equally impacted by the submicroscopic critters that tsunami their way across the globe. Selfie sticks are in no way in demand as their is nowhere to go and be seen. The vapid hubris of youth and the cult of celebrity have been dealt a huge dose of an alternative reality. The apparent solidity of a materialistic world is no longer offering coupons. The illusions are being scrubbed. If culture is an Etch-A-Sketch, it finds itself turned over and shaken. Might this just be the start of a refocus for mankind?

Writing that paragraph felt somewhat cathartic but still insufficient. I am observing from no personal,  moral high ground. My position is as a believer in the saving grace of Jesus who did not count equality with God as something to hold tightly. Instead he emptied himself and took on the form of a servant and in the likeness of mankind, he was born in a manger amidst straw and cows and poop. He went on into a life of humility and at the age of 33 he was obedient to the Father's direction which led him to be crucified upon a Roman torture device, the cross. He died as an innocent, living sacrifice which represented a cosmic transaction that made it possible for me to be ransomed from my fallenness. To become a new man in Christ, to join him as an eternal member of his family in his invitation to co-reign with him in his plans for forever.

Well that sounds swell Mr Santiago.... So now what. Well, for me it is time to refocus on what I feel called to....a deeper intimacy of my branch to his Vine. To move ever closer to joining the Triune dance. To give myself over more fully to the surgical, inside-out transformation of my body, soul and spirit into what the Potter has in mind for me. Silence, solitude, prayer and an ongoing posture of listening always for his still, small voice. To trusting and obeying what I hear. To risking radicalness.
To understanding that time being short is no longer a mere concept.

Father, help me be other-focused in this time when self-preservation seems the only worldly thing that makes sense. Open my ears to whatever you have for me as marching orders. Open my eyes to the ways of the kingdom as I navigate the waters of husband, father, grandfather and friend. Protect me from getting lost in the cacophony of the screens and airwaves. Give me your courage when the bus pulls in. Thank you for the invitation into profound humility....help me to dwell there without complaint. Lord, fix my eyes upon you!

A cosmic 'Pause' button is pushed!

Sitting at home on a Friday with time and a desire to write. Trouble is, nothing is tugging on me to write about. Not that the world isn't at least interesting right now if not terrifying. We sit in the midst of a pandemic of Covid 19 and are in the acceleration phase here in the US. Everything is shutting down, cruises, pro sports, Disneyland, churches, there is no toilet paper to be had and social distancing is the strategy of the day.  The stock market is down by 30% give or take and there is virtually no segment of the populace that feels untouched by what is happening.

As for our domain, we have pulled back in what seems a prudent effort to lessen exposure to the unseen viral aliens that have descended upon mankind.  Have put a hold on Weds volunteering at the mission and Regions, have cancelled going to Camino shell ceremony, have informed house church that until further notice we will not be attending HC or core. Life is in no way going forward as normal for A-N-Y-B-O-D-Y.

So when I say nothing to write about it seems a little strange in some ways.  There is a lot of substantive things going on. Yet what is there to write about without having any perspective, a philosophical take on it all, a lucid grasp of a wise course to take or position to hold? And "Yes" I know that I am a citizen of another Kingdom. For that I rejoice to be sure! But at the moment, that alternative citizenship is not affecting my mind or emotions in the ways one might expect or at least hope.  I feel flat and unable to grasp the enormity of what I see happening every day. That this is at the very least a peek into and a sniff of what apocalyptic times might be like seems certain.

Some brothers are holding a Zoom prayer time today at 4PM. I think I should avail myself at joining in and at least be in motion toward light rather than just drifting along in the numbing sea. Feels like it's a good time to remember that not everything works best on solo missions. In fact, that seems to be a recurrent theme in my readings and taps on the shoulder from Father. Namely, my propensity toward individualism as opposed to teaming up.  Help me here Lord....

Pressing in....pressing in feels right. To run toward the flames and not away. To engage the battle and not to tunnel in.  Ok, if that is right where do I go from here Lord? How do I become part of your solution and not part of the problem? Do I shirk the reduction of exposure? I submit myself to you Father afresh. Open my eyes to what you would have me do, think, enforce and pursue.  This is all not about me, you are the hero of this story and I belong to you!  I put myself at your service Jesus.........

1 + 3 = 1

My experience with writing, albeit limited, has shown me that I love it the most when I am "pregnant" with what feels like some very ripe thought that is just begging to be articulated. The actual composing is almost effortless....the words just fly from the keys and organize themselves into coherent thought.  Today is not one of those days. Today brings me a couple of wisps and a vagueness that challenges me to try and express to myself what is lurking in the mental shadows.

I have described myself in part as a recovering hedonist.  Yet, it's not just seeking pleasure as an end in itself for me.  It is more of a strong pull/desire for transcendence....to go beyond the mere limits of the material world. To discover and experience what is just beyond the curtain, to lose myself in the larger story that has been being told since the beginning of time.  To go beyond my pay grade. To lose my "I-ness" in the community of the Kingdom. Mind altering drugs, the first twenty minutes of whisky, first blush of love, birth of a child, a wild thunderstorm  can all produce the briefest glimpse of what a loosening of the normal bindings of life can feel like.  It is heady stuff. But it disappears so quickly. It leaves me just wanting, wanting more....

This may simply sound like a whining boomer who just wants his Maypo. Perhaps. But now that I have been graced with the benefit of retirement and the gift of time, I find myself increasingly being drawn to a contemplative mindset. The desire for general transcendence has become more specific and is more clearly described by a yearning for intimacy with the Creator of the universe, for union with Christ, the merging of my branch into the Vine. To lose my constant use of myself as a universal reference point for all that I do and think. To lose my knee-jerk/default strategy of comparing, judging, keeping score etc., ad nauseum, etc. To surrender, to allow myself to be absorbed into the desires and plans I was created to pursue. To regularly, more effortlessly hear the still small voice. To say yes more quickly. To obviate the need for any bit or bridle. To be merged into the community of the Trinitarian dance that has been from the beginning to today.

Smitten is the best word to describe the level of my gratitude for being an eternal son of the Lion of Judah. He has given me tangible experiences of being called up and into something bigger than myself. A seven year opportunity to be part of a band of brothers that fought and prayed together through long weekends in a very "thin place". Of being given a second chance in a blended family after I had brought travesty down upon my domain. Twenty years of learning to navigate the invisible in a career consisting of a net-less tightrope and an "eat what you kill" pay plan. Today, I can humbly testify to the truth that he is not tame but he is good.

Last Saturday, I went for a short walk to see how my hamstring healing was coming along. Trying to start back up slow so went only two miles which ended with some quiet time in the woods. The silent, people-less woods, ready-made for an apprentice contemplative.  I found myself intently listening as I asked if Abba may have anything to say to me.  A few minutes went by. I looked through an opening in the trees and caught the beautiful arching flight of four, bright white, long-necked geese flying against the backdrop of a maya blue sky. Though four in number, they flew as a single unit in perfect cadence and symmetry. What Lord? Is this for me? .....Yes, one is called up into the three and they fly as one. 1 + 3 = 1.  Kingdom math. This is my transcendence for you Santiago.

93 year old Pop Quiz

Insight is a wonderful thing. I get some every so often and it blesses me to my core because I know from where it comes. It was Thursday and I ventured out to a most unpleasant venue....a mall. Why? Because it housed a JC Penney's and a Macy's, both of which carry a wide selection of Levis jeans. I was on the hunt for some jeans like I used to buy with a classic cut and no "extra room in the seat or thigh". Those parts of me don't need extra room....it's above the belt where the issues lie.

But I digress. The JCP clerk told me to head downstairs but to take the elevator as the down escalator was under repair. Off I went, pushed the down button and waited....waited for what seemed to be an extra long time. Finally the door slowly opened and out tottered an old man, bent over, with a quad-cane in his right hand and a package in his left.  I passed by him as I entered the elevator and as I passed him he looked at me and, as he thrust the package toward me, said "Here, carry this for me to the front door". Wow, didn't see this coming.....

So what transpired in my mind took about 3-5 seconds. It started ugly. I could hear "Say what?  Who do you think I am, a personal assistant? But then Kingdom sanity broke in and I was aware of a "Wait a minute! I've seen this before.....my answer is to simply say OK and accommodate him. I had failed a similar Pop Quiz at the mission some months before and was shown a painful side of my false self.  Here was another go at it.  I muttered out a somewhat reluctant OK (it was a weak assent, not a glorious be-ready-in-all-circumstances,victorious "Absolutely!").

While we walked to the "front door", I was able to re-order my selfish emotions, get them shut up and seated and walk as a servant, not as a man who is in the middle of his own circle of life.  He said he was 93 and it was hard to get around but he could still get out some and he had gotten some fantastic bargains and it was all possible because he had never been a drinking man. Phew, all in one breath! We turned a corner and there was a younger woman with the look of someone looking for someone. I presume it was his daughter. She looked at me with a somewhat puzzled look.  I gave her the package and simply said "He asked me to carry this for him."  No thank you's, no graceful good-byes. Simply an abrupt conclusion to what I call a spiritual Pop Quiz.

My walk these days has me squarely in an arena that sounds like this: I am a branch in desperate need to be fused with the Vine of life. I have finally accepted the fact that...."apart from me you can do nothing." (Seven decades to accept this fact is hardly a world record!)  As a branch,  my choice isn't an optional decision. Not being able to do anything is the starkest of statements as to what my chances are away from the Vine.

One of the books I find myself soaking in is Frank Laubach's Letters by a Modern Mystic. The heart of what he shares in this book connects with my deepest pools.  In today's reading he said if asked his chief difficulty in serving the people group he was called to, his answer is: " No chief difficulty really except to keep ready spiritually." (Italics mine)  And, as declared in the paragraph above, my being ready will never be accomplished through greater personal effort....but only by a dynamic abiding in the Vine who came to rescue me and restore me into who I am meant to be...to give me the wherewithal to "be ready spiritually".

Abiding is a particularly winsome type of activity. It has much more to do with not doing, certainly not striving. A kind of none active activity I mostly appreciate the Pop Quizzes. While having nothing to do with getting an A or advancing to the next grade, they serve as a potent reminder and  provide some feedback on the quality of my abiding. Santiago, although I understand it's not about getting grades, nevertheless, I personally see you getting a C- on the quiz containing a 93 year old Jesus. While there are miles to go, you didn't get an F this time! Rejoice! Abide!

Thoughts on being 'missional'

My question today is whether or not this everyday guy, bereft of M.Div,, Dr.Div or any other type of theological sheepskin, might dare attempt to add clarity to the fuzziness that seems so often to surround the use of the word 'missional' in today's Christian communities.  Not knowing the answer in advance of attempting to say some words about it, I have decided to give it a whirl.

As part of a house church of around 30 followers of Jesus, we hold as one of our commitments to: "actively live as missional witnesses by displaying agape love and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom to those in need, those in our relational networks, and those in local or global neighborhoods as God leads."  As we continue in our meeting together and maturing as a body, we are often a bit troubled by feelings of not adequately fulfilling this commitment.

Some of that troubled feeling can be in response to feeling too inner-focused on our weekly meetings and growth as a community.  It is as if "being missional" is some kind of separate activity that lies outside our focus on covenant family, mutual ministry, gifts of the spirit and spiritual disciplines, However, being missional is far more broad than just the proclamation of the salvation message on a street corner. The Missio Dei is not merely a message of words to be heard and believed. It is far more organic than that!  It is to establish the image of God on earth as it is in heaven and to do so through agape communities that reflect the character of God and that function as a living reality that others can see,experience and be invited into.

Thus, all of our daily walk with God is a part of being missional, part of helping us carry on the mission of Jesus. If we are going to "go out", to "be sent" into the world to witness to the kingdom of God on earth we must embody the reality of the good news of the kingdom both personally and as a community or we really have nothing to offer others.'

It seems good to see the order of how this all works.  As an individual,  I submit myself to Jesus and invite him into my life each day to transform me into his image. I do this by giving our relationship time each day, through following spiritual disciplines, and by pursing and developing the spiritual gifts that have been given to me.  On a weekly basis, I meet together with my core group of 3-5, our house church and bring what I have heard and am learning in a spirit of mutual submission and mutual responsibility.  As I join others in this, by Gods' grace, our community grows and matures and becomes and ever increasing reflection of the kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven.

Being mindful of the great commission, I can now go out into the world and bring the good news of the kingdom and invite others in to become disciples of Christ.  But let's be real, this is easier said than done.  We live in a post-Christian culture and most non-believers are deaf to the relevancy of Jesus' invitation to become part of a spiritual, redeemed kingdom (the dome in which God is King).

So sharing the kingdom with others is going to flow more through how others experience me as a fellow human. They will notice how I am, how I conduct myself, whether I seem authentic in my caring and my engaging them with active listening and good questions.  In this case, I am the gospel  and I share it through my actions and behavior more than through words. And when I do speak, the alignment of what I say with how I live will definitely go under the microscope.   Still easier said than done but being an embodiment of the gospel is going to beat merely speaking about the gospel every time.

This is how I see it at this stage of my sojourn which as described earlier as being in the bottom of the 7th and I have just touched or rounded 3rd base.  My current way of thinking is now captured in this post and I will see how it stands the test of time.  If it doesn't, it won't be the first time I have returned to a prior writing and been totally embarrassed about how I once thought. Time will tell.....

Thanks for dropping by Santiago....you are welcome anytime....

Camino considerations....Part 2

So I did let my initial Camino writing simmer for a good while. When I read it I did have a bit more clarity. Especially about whether this is legitimately something that I am to actually embark upon.  I think Yes, this is a real invitation and my main hesitancy seems to come from my own self doubts and internal fears, not whether or nor Father is actually inviting me....I believe he is and I feel even less comfortable saying No than proceeding. I am currently circling the process of buying a ticket either on my own or via Ted Groat (although that option is looking questionable right now).

Since last writing I have had to come to grips with what has been a chronic hamstring/right piriformis issue.  First couple of miles up to 5 miles are OK but then the muscles tightening and the pain in the right butt get to be quite distracting.  My concern is that just stretching and trying to keep on walking through it is not getting me to the improvement I will need for a successful Camino.

But these physical hiccups have brought me to a new agreement with myself re: the Camino.  I do not require myself to walk each step from St. Jean to Santiago. For that matter, not even sure if I have to start in St. Jean.  My goal is to do the entire Camino by whatever means necessary to complete and a combination of walking, resting and busing may be what "my Camino" turns out to be.  AND THAT IS OK!!  For that matter, maybe I don't even do the Pyrenees at all, maybe I start in Roncesvalles.  That is not what I hope for but I have put my inner slave-driver on notice that he is not in charge. My Camino, my meeting up with Jess will occur on the terms Jesus provides for me regardless of how that turns out.

Meanwhile, I am taking steps to address my chronic ham/piriformis situation. I am going to stop my walking now for up to 8 weeks to let a total healing take place.  That puts my next walk....and a short one to ease me back in, on or about Paul's birthday, March 12.  For now, I will have to turn to the distasteful regimen of swimming and maybe lifting. I will also be making an appointment with Mitch to assess my alignment to see if there is anything in that regard that is contributing to my problems.

My latest wrinkle/consideration is that I went on Booking.com app to check on availability at Roncesvalles alburgue and it is already booked for Sept 8,9. Yikes, has Camino spiked in popularity so much as to make getting a room a major problem....time will tell but I think I will rethink booking an airline ticket at this point until I find our more info.

So the Camino provides! Within five hours from writing the above paragraph things have a totally different outlook. My Camino angel, Jim McCaffrey has agreed to meet me today, 1/21/20 at 2:30 to help me actually book St. Jean, Orisson and Roncesvalles for Sept 7,8,9.  If this goes as planned I will solidify flight itinerary sent by Ted Groat for approx $820 and the die will be cast.  Thank you Father for guiding me into these apparent solutions!!  I will update this after this afternoon with what transpires......

A couple hours with my Camino angel, Jim McCaffrey, has me reservations at Beilari in St. Jean, Orisson and Roncesvalles. I will stay in Pamplona (will need to make reservations there) on the night of the 7th of Sept., bus to St Jean on the 8th and stay at Beilari and then head for Orisson on the 9th and Roncesvalles on the 10th. I also had Ted Groat book the missionary fare flights on Am Airlines.
THE DIE IS CAST!!

And then entered the idea of Camino

For months now I have been pretty absorbed by all things related to the Camino de Santiago. Starting innocently enough with my second viewing of the movie The Way with Martin Sheen, I turned to Sandi about 45 minutes in and naively said "I am going to do this". I have been smitten to varying levels ever since and have now come here to thrash through and make more sense of the myriad of mental fragments that are a swirlin'!

Over time, the sort of casualness of my almost flippant "I am going to do this" comment has morphed significantly. The Camino has shown itself to be not just my idea but an invitation from Father. An invitation to go with him on a long walk across northern Spain. To marry a grand, 6 week challenge with my pursuit of vine/branch intimacy in a truly epic adventure smack dab between third base and home.  Phew!  I did not see this coming!!

After getting a green light from Sandi, hearing the kudos of many admiring well-wishers and finding a community of like-minded pilgrims at APOC, much of the initial euphoria has passed  I am left with a sober sense of the realities associated with actually doing this.  Can my 72/73 yo body actually walk 12 - 15 miles a day for 6 days a week for 5 or 6 weeks?  Can/should I voluntarily separate myself from the daily responsibilities and nurturing of my daily life?  Other than my time in CA as a hedonistic, would-be hippie, I have no experience that even approaches such a possibility.

Am I being selfish? Is this just a return to life being about me with no regard to those who depend on me? Is this an entirely outlandish, unnecessary risk? Is this fostered by an end-of-life crisis similar to the mid-life variety often seen in men? Am I deluding myself in thinking that Jesus is actually calling me to this? Is Jess joining me in Sarria fueling what is in actuality a mere pipe dream?

I have done enough of the preliminary research to understand necessary equipment, travel arrangements that would need to be made, timing of the trip (Sept 6 to Oct 21 or 22?), paying bills ahead, Scott might cut my grass, etc., etc.  The reality of jumping off the perfectly good airplane faces me now. Buying the ticket, casting the die. I guess counting the cost is not a bad idea. But the range of potential cost is vast....ranging from getting temporarily lost to having my lifeless body (ashes) shipped back to the U.S.   How crushing to have to return early because I couldn't mentally/emotionally cut it! That would be a tough sort of last chapter legacy to have to own.....

So I come here to name it, confess it, to thrash around with it. Jesus, are you actually in this? Are you indeed giving me the gift of a late inning epic calling to such an adventure? Do I have kingdom permission to say Yes? I will pause here and let this simmer.  When I come back and read the above I ask for clarity from you to either back me off or push me over the edge.  Either way Lord, I must decrease and you must increase.

Purpose heh? Part 2 of 2

Ok, baseball-related metaphor: If each base is roughly 24 years, then at my age I am right at third base.  Might be a few feet in front of it or, perhaps, I have even just rounded it. The point is that if home plate is the end/goal of this sojourn through life then I have completed 75% of the journey. It's taken some time and in baseball time I expect I am presently right around the bottoem of the seventh inning. Of course this is assuming I get to play all nine innings.... that nothing comes onto the stage that would rob me of the last bits of my ballgame.

On one hand, this can just be viewed as a matter-of-fact piece of reality.  But that is not how it came to me.  I was cruising through life with nary a thought as to where I was in the grand scheme of things.  It wasn't until retirement came along, some time of brooding reflection occurred, and a friend or two received life-threatening diagnoses that I was slapped into a sober awareness of just where I was presently situated in the game of life.  Prior to this, I was blissfully just grinding along as though the world was indeed my oyster and my quiver was chock-full of an endless supply of  tomorrows.

So coming to grips with where I am in the sojourn helps foster an eternal perspective. Not because of any inherent spiritual or philosophical skill sets I possess. It's simply a fact that the sand is running out of the temporal hour glass and focusing on mere passing fancies just doesn't hold my interest any longer. John 15:5 opened up to me one recent day and it has made all the difference  "I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in me, and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing." 

It's the last part of that verse that has jumped out at me and has been informing my entire outlook, my reality, my prioritization of life. If I can indeed do nothing apart from him then my entire mission in life is to eliminate being apart from him. Intimacy with Christ cannot be a mere sentiment or distant, lofty goal.  It must become the fibers of each day I am given and I must be open to ruthlessly eliminating all that would make me believe the lie of self-sufficiency.


A challenge is that this can all seem so idealistic, so apparently non-attainable, so utterly dependent on someone outside of myself to make it happen.  What could be less pragmatic? "Heh Santiago, what have you been up to lately?  Oh, pursuing intimacy with Christ, increasing the radical aspects of my surrender and dependence on Christ.  Nothing really special......"  Zowsa!!   And yet, yep, that is the conclusion I have reached based on the impossibility of doing anything of any kingdom value apart from him.

So how to proceed given that my outlook finds me peering into such a misty vista that reappears afresh each day. Coupled with my addiction to producing a sense of daily accomplishment serves only to make it all the more uncomfortable and disorienting. Now that I have achieved the elusive goal of retirement, many of the things that used to serve to make me feel useful and productive are gone. Much of my life has been chimerical.  I now stand more exposed as a human being....the Wizard's curtain now removed. No more career and related activities  to serve as a sort of stand-in for feeling good about myself.  Now, my identity feels more bare naked, sometimes squirming under the noon-day sun with nowhere to hide.

It's normally a bad thing to be backed into a corner. But now, I'm not so sure that Jesus hasn't apprehended me, opened my eyes to the reality that is his for me. I'm sure resistance is futile....I only  don't want to fight against it any longer.  Apart from Jesus, I can do nothing so my life must focus on ruthlessly eliminating everything Jesus points out to me that is keeping us apart.

Lord, protect me from losing my focus on this truth. There is no next thing calling me that is more critical than the union point of my branch to your vine. Father, I believe I yearn to be part of the triune dance.  Give me the drive and energy to stay on this trail that brings me closer to you.  Purge me of all false lovers and every impostor offering easier, counterfeit versions of such an intimacy . Bring me the fellowship of like-minded pilgrims who are in sync with seeing things similarly. Have your way in my transformation Holy Spirit....you know what I am intended to be, you have the way of my transformation into your image fully in mind. It's to you I surrender my self-efforts and all artificial trappings designed only to impress and fool others.

Play ball!