Nutty Chicks

Almost 9 months ago, on our first day of walking across Spain together, Randy gave me this Nutty Chicks granola bar to have as my lunch.

It was the best thing I have ever tasted.

And not just because I was so ill-prepared for what turned out to be 2 days of walking through waist deep snow over and across and down the Pyrenees Mountains.

Randy told me that a woman, an ER trauma surgeon, had started the company after her coworkers loved the homemade granola that she would bring in to work every day. She started selling the granola, which evolved into these delicious bars, at farmers markets. The demand grew and soon stores were placing their orders.

A few months after I had my first Nutty Chicks bar I met the woman behind it all. It was late at night, after her shift in the ER, and she was elbow deep in granola, trying to keep up with demand.

This past weekend I met her husband. He shared with us that the people behind the Emmys had called, and then the CMAs, asking for Nutty Chicks bars for their "swag bags".

"It was huge," he said.

But it soon became apparent that his wife felt more overwhelmed than excited.

So they said "no" to the Emmys. And the CMAs. And to the company altogether. At least for now, while she continues working full time as a surgeon.

It was shocking. But I can't help but be inspired.

It's easy to hear this story and think they made a terrible mistake. To come up with all kinds of ways they could have made this work. From selling the recipe to hiring a ton of staff to quitting their day jobs in order to make it big in the granola world.

But when it comes down to it, they chose the only option that would eliminate all their stress immediately.

They said "no" to what could have been fame and fortune in order to say "yes" to what was more important -- their emotional well-being, the day jobs they feel truly called to, their relationship, etc.

Maybe some day, when they retire, Nutty Chicks will revive. At least in our local farmer's market. But for now, this delicious snack is just a memory.

a necessary mess

I've been too busy making a mess to write much lately. 

But I've been thinking about how sometimes life is messy right before a breakthrough. A move. A new adventure. A growth opportunity. A deeper sense of purpose.

So I'm embracing my mess.

Knowing that it is necessary to get me where I want to be. 

Randy flew into town yesterday. Today we load the u-haul. And tomorrow we'll be on our way!

I make the choice...

"I've made the choice to move to California," I said near the end of my sermon on "choices and consequences" a couple weeks ago.

Immediately my 5-year-old niece Tessa burst into tears. Which continued throughout the rest of the service. (Who knew the kids even listened to the sermon?!)

Afterwards she came up to me and said, "When you said you made that choice, to move to California, that made me sad. I make the choice for you to stay."

I explained to her that when you get to be my age you get to make your own choices. But that also means you are responsible for the consequences of your choices, which include missing out on family dinner nights and other fun times with her and her siblings in order to move forward with the plans God has for me.

It's a hard lesson to understand when you're 5. (Or almost 35.)

Especially when my choices directly affect her.

But I hope in the long run she will learn from this to not be afraid of making the hard choice when you know it is the right one. To not be afraid of the "what ifs", or fear change, or focus too much on what can no longer be. And instead to be brave and see all of the possibilities that open up when we take the next step forward to follow our dreams.

do the thing

Last night I spoke to our local Lions Club about my walk across Spain.

I've had lots of opportunities to share about my experience, and each time it comes out a little differently. But I think I've finally figured out what I've been trying to say:

DO THE THING

The thing that stirs in your heart. The thing that gives you joy. The thing you long for. The thing you know you are made to do. The thing you are afraid of. The thing you would do if you won the lottery. The thing you would do if you only had one month to live. The thing you are most passionate about. The thing you want to be remembered for. The thing. Whatever it is. Do it. Do the thing.

I know not everyone wants to walk across Spain. And I don't think everyone should. But I know that everyone wants to do something:

Adopt. Host a foreign exchange student. Be the president of the Lions Club. Donate food to the local pantry or towels to the local shelter. Run with the bulls. Canoe down the Amazon. Graduate. Pay off student loans. Learn to read. Join a book club. Protest for peace. Fight for your country. Quit a job. Start your own company. Take a photography class. Bungee jump. Sing. Dance. Fly. Move. 

No matter how big. No matter how small. Whatever it is. Do it. 

DO THE THING. 

That is the message I have to share.

And here is some added inspiration: One year ago TODAY I attended a lecture in which a retired teacher shared her experiences of walking el Camino de Santiago. And I decided that "now" was as good a time as any to do the thing.

Here I am. A mere year later. And now I... ME... I am the one sharing the experience of my own walk. Hoping to inspire others. Like she inspired me. To do the thing.  

 

Realizing A Dream

My crazy beautiful friend Colette got married last Thursday and is now on her honeymoon in Israel. She's been praying hard for months that they would feel safe enough to go through with this adventure in the midst of all the violence in the Holy Land. And their faith has proven strong. They even got baptized in the Jordan River earlier this week, just like Jesus once did.

So many things struck me during their wedding, which was personally and uniquely designed.

The very first charge that the pastor gave was not to the bride and groom, but to the guests. About our role in supporting and nurturing this young couple. And when asked who gives this bride the response was, "We all do."

Often times we go to weddings because they are beautiful and filled with an as-yet-untainted love that inspires us. We get a chance to dress up and dance and eat delicious food. And we know one, or sometimes both, parties. But we should take seriously what it means to be present when vows are shared. It means we believe in this couple, that God has brought the two together, and we are willing to be encouraging and supportive to them in their lives together. And if necessary remind them when they are veering off course.

Quakers emphasize this role by having the entire guest list sign the marriage certificate, not just the officiant.

Colette, as I mentioned a few weeks ago, is from Ferguson, Missouri. She is African American. And her new husband is Caucasian. The couple decided they wanted to end their wedding ceremony with a video of Martin Luther King Jr. reciting his "I Have a Dream" speech. They didn't know when they picked their wedding date that it would be the 50th anniversary, to the day, of this speech. And people all over the world, as if in solidarity with this newly married couple, were listening to the same speech while we were.

The "icing on the cake" as it were, was two sided. Vanilla frosting down one side of the cake and chocolate down the other. But when the cake was finally cut we realized that the diversity was merely superficial. On the inside the cake was ALL red velvet.  

I believe a lasting impression was made on the hearts of those present that day. Because John and Colette were faithful to who they are as individuals and the life they want to live together, witnesses to the unity that is possible as long as we continue to have a dream.

ABRA

I had just sat down in the driver's seat of my car, closed the door and put my new book purchase in my lap, when I was rocked from behind. I got out to see a man gracefully and apologetically removing his Dodge Ram from the rear panel of my car. We exchanged info; he parked and went into Walmart while his son made fun of his poor driving/parking skills, and I drove away.

Within the hour this same Walmart was evacuated. A suspected shooter was inside. The news reported from the same parking lot where I had left some of my paint on someone else's bumper.

My instinct was to pray for the man and his son. I knew nothing more of him than his name, the make and model of his vehicle, and his insurance policy number. But that wasn't nothing. That was something. I could pray specifically for this man, whose name I knew. That after hitting me in the parking lot his day didn't get a whole lot worse.

When I talked to the insurance company later they told me to go have my car looked at, that the nearest place was called ABRA.

I just opened my new book, the one that was on my lap when the man hit my car. It wasn't the book I went in to purchase. But when I couldn't find the one I wanted I bought this one instead. Doctor Sleep. Stephen King's sequel to The Shining. Wouldn't you know that Part 1 of Doctor Sleep is called: ABRA.

Isn't it strange that my car got hit outside a Walmart that was later evacuated, and the collision shop had the same name that opened the book I had just purchased?

And on my way home a black cat ran in front of my car.

I don't think the black cat has anything to do with it. I just threw it in there to remind us not to over analyze life's synchronicities.

Maybe there is some deeper meaning to all this that will eventually be revealed to me. But maybe it is just a little reminder that if we pay attention we will see these connections happen all the time, to all of us. Because there is Someone greater at work in the world.

"Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening." 1 Samuel 3

leaving the nest

My best friend since kindergarten and I were talking over the weekend. About how no matter how old we get we still want the approval of our parents. To know that we make them proud.

Even when it is time to leave the nest. And long after.

We leave the nest in many different ways. From finding our own spirituality/religion/church, to making our own relationship and career decisions. How we choose to raise our children, how many we have or whether or not we even have any. Our dreams become not theirs but our own.

And, of course, we leave literally. Just as my turtledoves have spread their wings and set sites on nests of their own.

turtledoves

My turtledoves hatched while I was in California.

I've been thinking about these two birds and how they must feel listening to and watching all the other birds in the yard. Running and jumping and flying. Doing the things they were made to do. While my little squeakers (that's what you call a baby dove!) aren't yet ready to leave the nest.

Because even though they are far closer to achieving God's plan for the next stage of their life than when they were encased in egg shells, just because they hatched doesn't mean they are ready yet to fly.

This speaks to my own frustration. My longing to live into the next adventure. To explore more of the beauty, community, and opportunity beyond my front door.

But like a nestling, I have to be patient. Until it is my turn. My time. And then, soon enough, I too will be ready to fly.

Day 63

Day 63: Home

• Flight from Philadelphia to Ohio
• Dinner with my parents
• Baseball practice with my brother, nieces and nephew
• Walk with my dog
• Wine and conversation with my sister-in-law Kari, followed by her reminding me that the tendinitis in my foot may be better but the stress fracture is not going to heal itself if I keep walking my dog

Yep, I'm officially home! 

And for the next few days you can find me dutifully resting on the couch. Reading a book (2 months without reading... I have a lot of catching up to do!). And eating peanut butter (can you imagine 2 months without peanut butter?!).

Thank you all for being a part of my journey! For walking with me across Spain. For opening your hearts to the highs and lows of this adventure. And bravely following whatever dream God is calling you to in your own life.

Animo! (You can do it!)

Ultreia! (Walk on!)

Buen Camino!! (Have a good journey!)

Day 52

Day 52: Bus from Ponferrada forward to Las Herrerias - 45.4 km, followed by a 1 km walk down into the village

I have to admit. Not being able to walk has been a real struggle.

I never thought I would miss staying in albergues with dozens of sweaty, snoring pilgrims who get up at 6 a.m. But being in a hotel off and on for almost 2 weeks has become very isolating. And even though I see pilgrims every day I don't feel I can relate any longer to the struggle of early mornings and long afternoons, the refreshing taste of a cold beer or the stomach that is never quite satisfied.

And the absolute worst thing you can do when you aren't feeling well is to be alone, feeling sorry for yourself.

It is easy to think that the Camino was easier when Randy was here. So to put things in perspective I have tried to think of all the hard times we went through together.

There was the time we were so tired and sore that we walked right past the albergue and wandered around town for several kilometers before some neighborhood kids helped us find our way back.

And the time I was mentally exhausted. To the point that we literally sat on the side of the road. For hours. In silence. Until Randy offered to carry my sleeping bag. And somehow that made everything better.

I can't even begin to describe the emotions the day we thought he was going to have to go home early because of a work conflict.

There were many nights we spent rubbing each others sore feet. Shoulders. Heads.

I had to get used to resting every day with just one kilometer to go, because his toe always let us know we were close. And he avoided looking at me for a week after I busted the blood vessels in my eyes.

We both wanted to give up in the Pyrenees. But luckily we didn't know each other yet. So instead of comforting one another, we only laid down in the snow in defeat when alone, and worked harder when the other was looking.

And to be honest, the littlest things can feel insurmountable when you are tired. Dinner presented to you with head and scales still in tact. Your credit card being declined. Showers on timers. And no butter for your toast.

And this is just a taste of the hardships we endured. Together.

While this trip down memory lane does make me feel better about my circumstances, it is also a reminder that I need to keep moving forward. Rather than dwelling on the past or the vision I had for the future.

Because I can't change any of that. But I can choose to enjoy the rest of my time here. Even if I have to do it on a bus, with crutches instead of hiking poles, and a different kind of boot!

Day 43

Day 43: Ponferrada to Cacabelos - 15.5 km

Yesterday I repeatedly bumped into a woman who kept saying, "Next time, I'm going to stay in this cute little town... I keep saying that. 'Next time.' I guess I have to come back!"

And all I could think was, What kind of crazy person would put themselves through this TWICE?!

Today I walked with a Korean young man who wasn't having nearly as much fun as she was. Granted it was 80 degrees and sunny today and 50 degrees and cloudy (much better for walking!) yesterday. But he was also pushing himself to do 31 kilometers when he had been doing a more comfortable 17 a day for the first half of his journey. So he was hot and tired and sore, with mountains to climb looming in the distance.

I think we are all feeling the "push" to reach Santiago, now just under 200 kilometers away!

These experiences remind me that there is both beauty and hardship in following our dreams. God places big dreams in all of our hearts. But to pursue those dreams means having to endure trials, heartbreak, suffering, challenges... in addition to getting to experience mountain top moments, breathtaking beauty, eternal reward.

If it was easy, more people would pursue their dreams!

But many people don't want to go through everything it takes to get there.

Luckily God places others on our journey to help encourage us, walk with us, to remind us never to give up, to tell us that God will be with us every hard and beautiful step of the way, to tell us it will be worth it when our dream is realized.

While walking out of Ponferrada today, dozens of people encouraged me on my way. "Buen Camino!" they said. Several patted me on the shoulder and told me to 'go with God' or 'keep walking' or 'see you later'. One man told me he walked this Way 5 months ago and it was beautiful.

My family too continues to be a huge source of encouragement. Texts and messages from both my sisters-in-law. Phone calls to my parents. Randy continuing to cheer me on from California. Aloys reminding me that he is just ahead of me (by 50 kilometers or so!) if I need anything.

And all of you who Walk With me on this journey, by reading, commenting, sharing, and considering what God is calling you to.

It won't be easy. But I promise you it will be worth it!