Day 18 on the Camino Way

Best Laid Plans

Sometimes you just have to adjust. We’d planned on early breakfast this morning—6am. Then we were going to head out in the dark for a 14 mile day. But as I was getting ready I was suddenly hit by stomach pain. I thought I just needed to eat something—wrong. I ended up back in bed for a couple more hours. We started talking about needing a taxi to get us to our next location.

Mother Mary Came to Me

This will sound totally nuts to you and you should probably just dismiss it entirely, but I’m going to share it anyway. While in the dining area, Stacia, one of our traveling companions, gave me this necklace. A few days back in a lovely little chapel dedicated to Mary, a woman hung a necklace like this around my neck and blessed me. Somewhere along the line, I lost it. During dinner last night, Stacia heard me moan about losing this. So at breakfast, seeing me in distress, she gave me hers.

Now here is where I’m going to lose most of you. I went back upstairs to our room and laid down. I took the Mary pendant between my thumb and index finger. Now, I didn’t pray any prayer. What I did was hold it. And I got better.

So what do you think? This kind of stuff doesn’t happen does it? It was a—what? Coincidence? Mary, or God connected to Mary, or the Holy Spirit doesn’t take the time to heal someone so they can hike. Right? With all the really important happenings in the world, all the really sick people, this is mundane and beneath a “miracle.” It’s kind of like praying for a parking spot, getting it, and thinking God opened it up for you.

Accepting Help

For several days now the pain in my side has sprung up around the eighth mile in our walking. Therefore, depending on how long our hike, I can be in some pain for a couple of hours or more. Sally has consistently asked to take a turn at carrying my pack—our pack. It’s just hard for me to accept help. Maybe some of you can relate. But today, with the stomach thing and the side thing, I said, ”Okay, for one mile then, right?”

And it helped, in fact, it helped a lot. And more to the point, Sally is more then capable of carrying that pack. She wants to help, wants to ease my pain, and up until today, I was too stubborn to let her. But we’re going to make this our practice, especially after mile seven of any walk. Time to be sensible and accept help from someone who loves me.

And this is a miracle too, isn’t it? Having someone love you enough to stay by your side, make sacrifices to help you, heal you—that’s divine activity, I think.

The Danes

Okay, I’m going to admit that these guys have grown on Sally and me. They are full of life and seriously funny. But seriously serious too! Leonard is the elderly leader of the group. He’s the gentleman just in the picture, on the right. Behind him by his right hand is his son-in-law, Rasmussen. Across from Leonard, on the left in the picture, holding the beer, is Peter. Peter is the maybe future son-in-law to Rasmussen. He’s a professional baker—sourdough bread. Excellent videos of making bread. So good.

After the 14 miles, Sally and I showered, washed our clothes and set out to find a bar. For clarity, a bar here serves everything—coffee, beer, pastries, pizza, chips, and other food for pilgrims. We come upon this busy place, you always look for the busy place, and the Danes are already there. Shocker! (Peter told us later that Danes only shower once a week. ”We let the body clean itself,” he said. ”We’re vikings.” I’m pretty sure he’s kidding.)

Walking up, we can see that Leonard has had a tough day. In fact, we’d heard from some other travelers that he was walking very slowly and folks are worried about him. He looked as bad as I must have looked this morning—pale, haggard, not well. And he is wet with sweat.

The Blessing

We walk up to them and Leonard says, ”Are you a preacher?”

I say, ”Yes, how did you know?” Nobody on the trail with us knows what I do. I never say unless asked.

He is completely flabbergasted. ”No,” he says, ”really?”

I say, ”Yes, really.”

“I was joking,” he says. Then he adds, ”But I need a blessing.”

So, I put my hand on his head and say, ”In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, bless this good man.”

Honestly now, he tears up and asks, ”Does that count?”

”Absolutely,” I respond. ”It’s my best one.”

He turns to Peter and says, ”Buy this man and his lovely wife a beer.”

Buen Camino!