"Did you finish the race?"
I laughed at the humor in the question. The Camino is anything but a "race"! Although at times it felt like a "race" as I tried to keep up with my peppy companions. If it weren't for the blisters, I could have walked just as fast. The three of us are so similar in our gait!
But how Biblical it sounds!
Hebrews 12:1-3 - Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. (NIV)
1 Corinthians 9:24-27 - All the runners at the stadium are trying to win, but only one of them gets the prize. You must run in the same way, meaning to win. All the fighters at the games go into strict training; they do this just to win a wreath that will wither away, but we do it for a wreath that will never wither. That is how I run, intent on winning; that is how I fight, not beating the air. I treat my body hard and make it obey me, for, having been an announcer myself, I should not want to be disqualified. (JB)
The race marked out for us. As I walked the Camino, I thought of how blessed I was to even be there! If it weren't for Jean and CJ, I'd never be walking at exactly this time, meeting these particular people, having these specific experiences.
You must run the same way, meaning to win. The 'winning', of course, was an individual affair. It wasn't a contest where if one wins the others lose. I also thought of how I was walking a thin line between "letting go of the outcome" (if something happens to prevent my walking the entire way, I won't get the Credential) and "pushing myself through the pain" (if it's not life-threatening, keep on going).
In one sense, I did indeed finish the race. In another, the race continues!
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Imagination and Reality
The Imagination:
All year long I had been reading other people's experiences of the Camino, gathering hints and building expectations. I was "sure" I would have nothing stolen because I'd be super-vigilant. I had prepared well in order not to get blisters. I worried just a bit about the cleanliness of the albergues and the possibility of bed bugs. I thought for sure we'd have a lot of rain because of the season and the fact that Galicia is so green. I expected to "Walk in a Relaxed Manner" like Sr. Janice Rupp. Not one thing I brought would go unused and I'd bring exactly what I needed. I'd definitely carry my backpack all the way. And, oh yes, I'd have a mystical experience of God, being so close to nature all week!
The Reality:
Stolen cell phone
Painful blisters
Sparkling clean albergues
No bed bugs
No rain to speak of
Hobbled painfully
Pillow unused
Could have used a pair of regular slacks
Had backpack transported all but twice
No felt mystical experience of God
But yes, close to nature all week!
All year long I had been reading other people's experiences of the Camino, gathering hints and building expectations. I was "sure" I would have nothing stolen because I'd be super-vigilant. I had prepared well in order not to get blisters. I worried just a bit about the cleanliness of the albergues and the possibility of bed bugs. I thought for sure we'd have a lot of rain because of the season and the fact that Galicia is so green. I expected to "Walk in a Relaxed Manner" like Sr. Janice Rupp. Not one thing I brought would go unused and I'd bring exactly what I needed. I'd definitely carry my backpack all the way. And, oh yes, I'd have a mystical experience of God, being so close to nature all week!
The Reality:
Stolen cell phone
Painful blisters
Sparkling clean albergues
No bed bugs
No rain to speak of
Hobbled painfully
Pillow unused
Could have used a pair of regular slacks
Had backpack transported all but twice
No felt mystical experience of God
But yes, close to nature all week!
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Miracles on May 1st
My sister CJ, niece Jean and I left for Spain the evening of April 29th and stayed in Madrid for a couple of days to get over jet-lag before beginning the Camino de Santiago. On May 1st, Feast of St. Joseph the Worker (my mother's birthday and my feast day) I experienced two miracles... well, you decide if they are miracles or not!
Miracle of the Cell Phone: While having breakfast in an outdoor cafe, a couple of young teenage girls approached CJ and me and thrust a paper in our faces. They seemed to be asking us to buy something, and they huried off when we refused. Later, when it was time to go, I couldn't find my cell phone. Of course, I prayed to St. Anthony, and looked all over for it. When we finally realized that the girls had stolen my phone I decided it was a lost cause trying to retrieve it, so I found an internet cafe and discontinued the service. I surprised myself at how free I felt!
We toured the streets and early afternoon headed back to where we were staying to take a much-needed nap. When we arrived, we found a note on our door asking that we stop by the office. After our nap, Jean headed downstairs to see what they wanted and returned with a very puzzled look on her face. "They found your cell phone! The police have your cell phone!" Now all three of us were mystified. How in the world could the police have found my cell phone and tracked me down???
The station was in the Metro, which was just across the plaza, so we hurried over there. Jean speaks good Spanish, so she was able to find out how the strange set of circumstances unfolded.
After the girls left with my cell phone, a plain-clothed policeman saw them running and recognized them as known thieves. They've done this many times before, but never go to jail because they are under-age. He figured they were up to no good, and apprehended them, finding my cell phone on them.
Back in New Jersey, I had just changed the time to an hour before my passcode would kick in. Since I had just taken a picture, the phone was open for an hour, so the policeman was able to look into my Facebook and saw my picture. (He said he thought Tom Kearns was my husband.) By the time he got back to the station, the phone needed the passcode again. He handed it to another policeman who was good at cracking codes. First he put in: 1234, the most common passcode, we were told. Then 1111, another common code. Neither worked. Then he guessed about how old I was and put in my birth year: 1945. Voila! It worked! (I've sinced changed it, you can be sure!).
So, they are now in! But how did they ever track me down in Madrid? Well, Jeannie had forwarded me an e-mail in Spanish giving the reservations for the place where we were staying -- which wasn't far from the Metro. One of them headed over to see if I were there and the rest you know!
If I hadn't changed the timing on my passcode; if the girls hadn't been running; if the policeman hadn't recognized them as known thieves; if he hadn't immediately gone into my Facebook and seen my picture; if I hadn't used my birth year as the passcode; if the policeman hadn't guessed my birth year; if Jeannie hadn't forwarded the e-mail telling where we were staying; and most importantly, if the Madrid police had not been caring enough to try to track the owner of the cell phone down -- I wouldn't have my phone today!
Answered prayer through St. Anthony? Miracle? Or coincidence after coincidence after coincidence?
Miracle of Mass: You might not consider this much of a "miracle" but it meant a lot to me, and the timing was amazing. When I woke up on Thursday, May 1st, I realized that I didn't have any idea what time Mass was in any of the churches. I mentioned to CJ and Jean that this would be the very first time in my religious life that I had missed Mass on my Feast Day. All throughout the day, as we passed a number of churches, I never found it convenient to stop in. We were always heading somewhere. Finally, at 8:40 p.m. I saw a church and determined to stop in. Walking in the back door, I discovered that Mass had begun, and the priest was just finishing the Gospel. I was able to attend Mass after all! Maybe not a "miracle", but definitely another sign of God's care for me!
Miracle of the Cell Phone: While having breakfast in an outdoor cafe, a couple of young teenage girls approached CJ and me and thrust a paper in our faces. They seemed to be asking us to buy something, and they huried off when we refused. Later, when it was time to go, I couldn't find my cell phone. Of course, I prayed to St. Anthony, and looked all over for it. When we finally realized that the girls had stolen my phone I decided it was a lost cause trying to retrieve it, so I found an internet cafe and discontinued the service. I surprised myself at how free I felt!
We toured the streets and early afternoon headed back to where we were staying to take a much-needed nap. When we arrived, we found a note on our door asking that we stop by the office. After our nap, Jean headed downstairs to see what they wanted and returned with a very puzzled look on her face. "They found your cell phone! The police have your cell phone!" Now all three of us were mystified. How in the world could the police have found my cell phone and tracked me down???
The station was in the Metro, which was just across the plaza, so we hurried over there. Jean speaks good Spanish, so she was able to find out how the strange set of circumstances unfolded.
After the girls left with my cell phone, a plain-clothed policeman saw them running and recognized them as known thieves. They've done this many times before, but never go to jail because they are under-age. He figured they were up to no good, and apprehended them, finding my cell phone on them.
Back in New Jersey, I had just changed the time to an hour before my passcode would kick in. Since I had just taken a picture, the phone was open for an hour, so the policeman was able to look into my Facebook and saw my picture. (He said he thought Tom Kearns was my husband.) By the time he got back to the station, the phone needed the passcode again. He handed it to another policeman who was good at cracking codes. First he put in: 1234, the most common passcode, we were told. Then 1111, another common code. Neither worked. Then he guessed about how old I was and put in my birth year: 1945. Voila! It worked! (I've sinced changed it, you can be sure!).
So, they are now in! But how did they ever track me down in Madrid? Well, Jeannie had forwarded me an e-mail in Spanish giving the reservations for the place where we were staying -- which wasn't far from the Metro. One of them headed over to see if I were there and the rest you know!
If I hadn't changed the timing on my passcode; if the girls hadn't been running; if the policeman hadn't recognized them as known thieves; if he hadn't immediately gone into my Facebook and seen my picture; if I hadn't used my birth year as the passcode; if the policeman hadn't guessed my birth year; if Jeannie hadn't forwarded the e-mail telling where we were staying; and most importantly, if the Madrid police had not been caring enough to try to track the owner of the cell phone down -- I wouldn't have my phone today!
Answered prayer through St. Anthony? Miracle? Or coincidence after coincidence after coincidence?
Miracle of Mass: You might not consider this much of a "miracle" but it meant a lot to me, and the timing was amazing. When I woke up on Thursday, May 1st, I realized that I didn't have any idea what time Mass was in any of the churches. I mentioned to CJ and Jean that this would be the very first time in my religious life that I had missed Mass on my Feast Day. All throughout the day, as we passed a number of churches, I never found it convenient to stop in. We were always heading somewhere. Finally, at 8:40 p.m. I saw a church and determined to stop in. Walking in the back door, I discovered that Mass had begun, and the priest was just finishing the Gospel. I was able to attend Mass after all! Maybe not a "miracle", but definitely another sign of God's care for me!
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