Do fish listen to iTunes?

Yesterday Randy and I took an early morning walk at the fish hatchery. The fish aren't running yet, but lots of people were out walking, running, and enjoying the bike trail.

We detoured onto the dirt paths to walk closer to the river, and stopped to sit and watch the fishermen throw out their lines while the sun came up.

"There is something so calming about water," Randy said, barely above a whisper so as not to disturb the men at work.

I nodded in agreement. Just as one of the fisherman's cell phones went off.

The man answered it. Chatted for a while. Then pocketed the phone.

"My grandpa would have grabbed that phone right out of his hand and thrown it into the water," I said. Thinking of the man who regularly took my brothers and I fishing.

It wasn't long before another fisherman answered his phone. Rod and reel in one hand, iPhone in the other. And when he hung up he set his iTunes to play. Loud enough that we could make out the words from our seats up the bank.

I found this incredibly disenchanting. I haven't been fishing but once since my grandpa died in 1996. But I assumed this past-time still held on to the sanctity of silence. The appeal of being removed from technology and transported to a simpler time. Where you became one with nature.

Is there no longer anywhere that this generation is allowed, expected, to be quiet and leave the noise behind?

I once was lost...

On Monday morning I bought a copy of the movie August Rush, because I love the idea of our souls being connected by music. And by evening I heard the news of Robin Williams' passing.

In the movie, a baby is given up for adoption. And 11 years later we see him searching for his parents, by following the music.

Robin Williams' character tells the boy: "Music is God's reminder that there is something else besides us in this universe." And then he asks the boy: "What do you want to be, in the whole world?"

And the boy answers: "Found."

I can't imagine a more perfect word to sum up the answer to the longing, the loneliness, and the empty spaces that pervade our society.

celebrating the ordinary

Watching my nieces "play" this week has reminded me that there are many ordinary, daily tasks in my "normal" life that I didn't think about while walking the Camino... 

I only did dishes once in Spain. 

I haven't vacuumed in two months.

Music was church bells and bird calls, not filling up my i-pod and turning on the car stereo. 

By the end of the journey I could go several days without ever looking in the mirror. And "fixing" my hair meant putting on a hat. 

Watching the kids celebrate these activities, as if rites of passage, reminds me that I can celebrate them too. I can be grateful to have dishes to wash, because I'm home where I can make healthy food choices. I can be grateful to vacuum, because I like carpet and they don't have much of that in Spain. I can be grateful for bird calls AND car stereos, because music is how I connect with the Creator. And I am certainly grateful for shampoo, because using the same soap for my hair, body, dishes, and clothes is not a trend I want to continue.

Thank you girls for the reminder that all of life is worth celebrating!

Day 54

Day 54: Samos to Sarria - 13.6 km by taxi; Sarria to Barbadelo - 4.2 km ON FOOT!!

Juan drove me to Sarria late this morning and I asked him to drop me off at the bottom of town. He told me I didn't need to climb all those steps, but I insisted. If the other pilgrims were going to have to climb 50+ steps to get lunch then so was I.

And I was met with a beautiful site at the top... my new friend Aeren from yesterday! She waved me over and introduced me to Kim from Korea who started in St Jean the same time she did.

After teasing me that I don't eat like a pilgrim who takes a taxi, Kim made sure to leave me with these words before he left us: "Whatever you do, don't give up. Even if you are taking the taxi or the bus, don't give up."

I needed this reminder that my attitude was my choice. And I could either finish my journey with joy, or I could end feeling defeated.

So I started walking. Looking for a place to stay in Sarria that felt good to my soul. And found myself leaving town.

I was about to pick up the dirt path when a local woman stopped me.

She told me the terrain was rough, muddy, and very steep. And added, "Es imposible con las muletas."

Impossible on crutches? Impossible?

It was just the kick in the pants I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself and do something about it.

She was still shaking her head when I started my muddy walk, singing "I can do all things..." (Matthew West, "Strong Enough"), reminding myself that it is in God's strength that all things are possible.

(Don't worry Mom. I had Juan the taxi driver's cell phone number just in case!)

And even if these are my last kilometers, I can honestly say I enjoyed, celebrated, embraced every last muddy, steep, rough step of the day and the pilgrims I had the pleasure to walk with!

Day 50

Day 50 - Resting (against my will) in Ponferrada

For the past 50 days I have been singing the lyrics "Make me broken, so I can be healed, Cause I'm so calloused, And now I can't feel, I want to run to You, With heart wide open, Make me broken" (Sidewalk Prophets, "Keep Making Me") as a prayer while I walk.

Stupid, right? Who prays to be broken?!!

Because God always answers prayer. And obviously He would answer me literally on this one!

A while back, Suzie sent me this quote from Kathleen Norris: "Prayer is not asking for what you think that you want, but asking to be changed in ways that you can only imagine."

I thought I wanted to be broken, empty, lonely, like the song says, so that God could heal me, fill me, comfort me. But as soon as I hurt I prayed for it all to go away!!

Not that I shouldn't have. After all, BEFORE Jesus prayed for God's will to be done, He prayed to be spared.

So my challenge today has been to pray for healing, but in the meantime to be open to learning and receiving whatever it is He has to teach me through this. To be changed, healed, and filled in ways I can't even fathom.

And as I consider the prayers I am holding for you, those you shared with me before I left and those that have come to me along the way, I know that God's answers for you are bigger than any prayer I could ever pray. That He will do mighty things in you and through your circumstances.

Please keep sharing your prayers and His answers with me and with others. Because if I have learned anything on this journey it is that we must participate, deeply and authentically, in the communities we are blessed to be part of.

Thank you for being part of my community and for all your thoughts and prayers while I wait "patiently" (try to anyway!) on the Lord!