So twelve months have slipped by without anything appearing on 500' Flyby. But that's not to say nothing has happened....oh neh, neh. I have reviewed some of my past blogs and I see there were several posts concerning the Camino where I conceptually discussed aspects of health, circumstances, and miscellaneous practicalities. But then finally, this summer on August 22, I boarded planes for Amsterdam and Madrid respectively. I was in Spain from August 23 to October 7. My walk from St. Jean to Santiago took 32 days with another 10 spent traveling and hanging out in Santiago and Finnestere.
In reading my Camino posts of 2022 and 2020, it is clear to me that I was very intentional about having a clear 'Why?' to launch me on this journey. It was also very clear that 'Why?' ultimately became a personal calling. My time at Pacem last fall left me without a doubt that Jesus planted the initial seed to go, he nurtured it, he protected it when both Covid and left foot surgery unseated my initial plans and he breathed fresh life into it in 2022. It became an invitation from the Trinity, a calling, to walk across Spain with Jesus as my traveling partner!
So now I have been back for almost three months. As I look back at all that transpired, what do I see? Can I see why Jesus might have ever bothered to tap me on the shoulder in the first place? Although I wish I was beyond this, I must confess that wondering 'why me' has crossed my mind.
My purpose today is to describe my perspective at this point. I wish to provide myself a point of reference for the coming months/years which may in fact bring additional or revised insights. In any regard, I trust you Jesus as the giver of insights. I have absolutely no desire to hypothesize here, only to articulate what I seem to 'see' at this particular point in time.
By the time I left for Spain I was clear that the Camino for me was a call, an invitation from my Papa. (I am still a bit uncomfortable referring to him in that way but the love he showed me on my trip inspires me to do so.) Going all the way to Spain, spending 45 days away from home and walking long distances every day was a sharp departure from all that is normal in my life. This all played out in a strange culture, a strange geography, with a strange language and without the loving support of my wife, friends and family. This certainly provided an interesting stage for Jesus to demonstrate his love for me, his interest in the little details of my life, and his compassionate protection of me over 45 days.
So Why me? Because he wanted to show me how much he loves me. Anything else? No, not really. Just that he sees me, he cares for me, he understands me and wants me to see more clearly how much I can trust him. Wow! It seems like a lot of trouble to go through just to let me know what Sunday school and sermons had already been teaching me for years. Did he love me more on the Camino than he normally does? No, I don't believe so but he wanted me to be dramatically re-positioned, away from everything of normal support. Away from all familiarity, away from everything and everybody that normally are available on a daily basis to prop up my life. To clear the mechanism so I might be able to see and experience what he provides to me everyday although I am mostly blind to it.
Every step I took was in a place I had never been before. I did not have fierce mastery over what I needed in order to get through each day. I was dependent on others, I was fully present to receive direction, to understand what others were trying to say to me, to navigate the necessary details of each day. I was profoundly present, alert, straining to hear his still small voice on how to proceed as none of my normal faculties were a source of sufficient guidance.
And what did I experience? So, so much! His daily care and direction were clearly present. A scratchy throat, a tweaked achilles, a need for a yellow arrow, clarity as to how to proceed, whether to stop in a village or not...all of these things were answered/dealt with ever so promptly. It was as if he was saying, "I invited you on this journey and I will not allow anything to come in and derail it". This loving care, this sense of a father's loving arm around me as a beloved son was on display virtually every day. It was not even particularly subtle. It was blatantly evident without requiring any deep meditative consideration.
Like when I did notice a physical malady or symptom, I would bring it to the Lord's attention. Within minutes it was dealt with and resolved....yes, minutes. After my one major fall, my symptoms of mental confusion and numbness coupled with back spasm presented more than just a minor problem. After a 5-minute sit and a hesitant request for yet another touch of Papa, I simply got up, adjusted my pack and walked 18km as though nothing had ever happened.
And then one day on the meseta, at 5:30 AM and about 1km from my alburque, the silence was interrupted by a "You don't have your money!" statement given to me with a strong, blunt emphasis. I even protested that the one thinking this was wrong, I was sure my money was in my pack! Oh what hubris Santiago! I reluctantly removed my pack in the middle of a highway in the pitch dark only to find that I indeed did not have my money belt with me (it contained not only my money but also my PASSPORT!). I did not know what else to do but to return to my alburque, re-enter the room with my loudly snoring bunk mates and sit on my bunk with no idea where the money belt could be. My hand rested under my pillow and it was then I remembered a new strategy I had adopted just the night before... money belt in the pillow case rather than under the mattress. Yep, it was in the pillow case!
Without that divine interruption I would have certainly walked all day to the next village before discovering what I no longer had. What a massive problem had been avoided by such a clear, forceful interruption by a Father who fully had my back! I walked that day in utter awe at the bullet that had been dodged by such a direct, supernatural yanking of my attention toward what had been invisible to my natural consciousness.
So did Jesus love me more on the Camino than he normally does? I really do not believe this to be the case. I see that his invitation to me was to take me on a journey in an environment which would strip away all the normal things that prop up my life. I would be in a more receptive posture, my attention would be more focused on listening for his voice and I would more clearly see his hand of guidance and intervention without the clutter of normalcy to get in the way.
I expect the coming months and even years will bring me additional insights and revelations stemming from my time with Jesus on the Spanish Camino. I sincerely desire to avoid the Israelite's chronic mistakes of forgetting what God had so clearly provided to them: manna to eat, parted waters in which to walk, water from rock, deliverance from enemies and land to call their own. My call was, at the very least, to an extraordinary 45 day season of Father's arm around me on an intimate walk along an age-old pilgrimage in Spain. For this outrageous demonstration of his loving care and compassion, I am eternally grateful!
