Asterisk without a Footnote

So I realize that all of you who read yesterday´s entry probably expected a footnote to be at the end, and the fact that there wan´t brings me to what I think is an important point that I should have made at the start of this blog. For those of you who don´t know, internet in Spain and the rest of Europe usually costs about €1 for 20-30 minutes. As such, I usually check and write emails and update this blog in a rushed manner without any kind of proofreading. Hence we get errors like yesterday and various more dastardly grammatical mistakes that I´m sure would make me cringe were I to spend the time and money to go over and read all of the entries on this blog. Anyway, on to the events of the day.
I quite enjoyed the town of Fromísta, which I only passed through last time. This morning I left the hostel at about 6:00, but it was about 20 minutes before I found a way out of it due as always to the infuriatingly undetailed maps in the guidebook I´m using. I finally found a farm path going my way that I had a good feeling about, so I followed it for a while until it led me to the next town, where I was able to find the actual (and much more crowded) Camino.
During my time alone, I was impressed again with an insight I´ve had for a while now. Get ready for what they call in the Harvard English department a "metaphor." There are times on the Camino that you have to make a choice as to which way you´ll go but there is not necessarily a clear waymark to point out the correct path. For whatever reason, it is not visible until you´ve made up your mind to take a certain way. Once you follow the proper path, you see it and get the reward of knowing you made the right choice and won´t have to backtrack (or potentially trespass on a farmer´s private property to get to your destination as I did today). I think life is like that as well. As I was thinking about the various decisions coming my way in the coming months (seminary, where to go in Spain, and various other personal matters) and prayed aloud concerning them, asking God desperately to give me some kind of word regarding even one of the issues, he seemed to respond in a surprising way. The conclusion he led me to was that it takes very little faith to listen to a voice from the heavens (though that may at times be how God communicates his will to us) and that a true faith-building experience is to trust that, having prayed and perhaps fasted about whatever decision with which you are faced, God will have replaced your will with his as he has replaced our righteousness with that of Jesus. In that case, when we step out in faith and make whatever decision seems good to us, we will soon see that it was God´s will all along. I believe this is how the Lord teaches us to walk in faith. Something to think about.
Anyway, after this epiphany I felt compelled to sing praise songs (or as many as I could remember) the rest of the way, though this was dampened somewhat by the crowded route. Seriously, I don´t know where all these pilgrims are coming from or staying tonight, but it really struck me today just how many there are now. And I know that number will only grow as more and more people start closer and closer to Santiago.
Tonight I´m in Carríon de los Condes ("of the Counts"), which is a lovely little place that is busy enough not to seem dead like some towns but quiet enough not to seem hectic like the bigger cities. There was a wonderful garden to walk through so I spent some time enjoying the city after I settled in the local convent. I´m sharing the room with a large middle-aged German and a kind but very blister-ridden Swede who also walked last year. The German asked what time I intended to get up, and though I know him to be a very kind and gentle man I knew immediately that there was a wrong and a right answer to that question and he was perfectly capable of coercing a schedule adjustment from me should I answer wrong. Fortunately, he was pleased by my answer as was the Swede, so we´re all still friends and had a good laugh at those crazies who get up at 4:00 in the morning.
I have walked two weeks now, and in a couple of days will have reached the halfway point. I might go ahead and walk to Finisterre this time or at least spend a day to visit, or I might sit in the plaza next to the cathedral and watch for anyone I know and perhaps invite any particularly discouraged- or sad-looking pilgrims to lunch. Or I could do everything, because if I keep on at this pace I will reach Santiago a good week or so before my birthday, the night of which I plan to train or bus to Madrid. One other exciting option I thought about was indulging in some good fun and finding a cinema showing Kung Fu Panda 2 (which I fully expect to be the best movie of this decade), but I might try to hold off until I get home.
Now I bet you´re all wondering what that footnote was going to be. I edited the entry to include it, so scroll down to find it. It´s even more exciting than you think. God bless!

University of Michigan

Last night I had dinner with my older Californian friend, an older Dane I´ve seen a lot, and a very talkative older Frenchman who joined the ranks of people who´ve said I look like Nicholas Cage back in Tosantos. The conversation was very interesting and informative, though I took little part in it. The Frenchman and the Dane apparently found each other on some kind of online forum where people find partners with whom they can walk the Camino and have been travelling together from St. Jean-pied-de-Port. The Frenchman had an extremely materialistic view of life, saying that he hates religion, politics, and violence, and that he just tries to appreciate the beautiful parts of life. Neither he nor the Dane expressed any particular purpose for walking in the first place, which I took as proof that God leads everyone whether they know it or not.
Today was a rough day, despite the good sleep I had in Castrojeriz. It was about 15 miles, with the initial part a steep climb up and down a small plateau. After the halfway point I came upon my German friend and walked with her for the remainder of the journey to Fromísta. She warned me of bedbugs in the municipal albergue here, so I followed her to the private one where she had a reservation. As we approached, two French guys I met a week or so ago came out and told us it was already full/booked, but I went inside anyway so I could ask where else I should go. The hospitalera must have thought I looked too pitiful to deny when she told me they were indeed booked by a large group, so she went and set up a cot for me next to the bunks in the dormitory. Praise the Lord!
After I showered, did my laundry, and walked about town to return to the delightful bakery I remembered from last time (I felt I dserved some kind of sweet treat after my day), I returned to find a group of American students filling up the reserved beds. They all looked like high schoolers to me (my Quebecan friend agrees with me and added that I do not look that young. Then again, I would probably look about 30 right now were I not so skinny), but apparently they are students at the University of Michigan doing some sort of international studies program. They´ve been going quite a bit faster than I or anyone in my "group," so I don´t expect to run into them again, but they all looked super-impressed when I said this was my second time and explained my reason for coming back.
I´m finding my level of spiritual energy is waning fast, which I pray will allow the Holy Spirit to take even more charge of me and do the work he wants to do. So far I have not received any clear signs about a future location for an albergue or church, but I am not out of the Meseta yet! One thing I have noticed, though: there has been a huge increase of people singe Burgos, increasing the competition for bed-space, as my own experience proves. I have no idea what I´ll do when I get within 100 km of Santiago, which sees the most crowds due to it being within the distance required for an indulgence certificate (Compostela). We´ll cross that bridge when we come to it, though!
Something else I´ve been meaning to mention is that I really want to learn all the languages of the Camino, particularly Italian, French, and German. I could use some help on my Spanish as well, but the smile on one German woman´s face as I said goodnight to her (two of theo nly German words I know) showed me just how much of an impact one can have simply by engaging someone in his or her own language. Here´s an idea I received a while back for a way to learn. My girlfriend mentioned that she heard of a man whose brain was so addled by drugs that he could barely string a sentence together, so his pastor told him to read a chapter of Mark every day for a week and then move onto the next, and by the time he finished the book he was healed and now he has a PhD or something. Anyway, as I thought about that story and pondered the healing power of the Word of God, I thought perhaps I could learn from it the languages of the world. So I´m hoping to get a Bible in Spanish, Italian, French, and German, and maybe Dutch when I get home so I can begin to learn in yet another way from the Word of God. It may work, it may not, but at least I´ll have Bibles in those languages for when I learn in some other way!
On a completely unrelated note*, my birthday is coming up in less than four weeks. I´ll be in Santiago then, but will have to leave that night for Madrid in order to arrive the next morning for the 11:00 service at the Cathedral. I think I´ve mentioned it in every entry, but I´m really excited to worship with fellow Anglicans again and receive Communion that includes both Body and Blood for the first time since May 15th!
That´s about all I have to say. I guess that´s not too surprising since this is one of my longer posts. I miss you all and am very grateful for your prayers. Know that I am praying for you as well! God bless!


*Not really. This is actually my subtle way of adding those to my birthday list. So sneaky.

Castrojeriz

So I´m on the Meseta, and it has been a vastly different experience this time, though last night I stayed in Hornillos, which is the same place I stayed last time. For one, I only walked half the distance to get there. I also walked in sun, not rain; I got to have a real bed instead of a mattress on the floor of the overflow area; and I got there in time to get something to eat. I´ve also found that although my Columbian friends have returned home and my French friend had to throw in the towel as well because of her foot and knee, it´s nice having familiar faces at each stop (something I didn´t have last time since I was walking about twice the distance of a "normal" pilgrim).
One familiar face I´ve enjoyed is a youngish (I think she said 37) German woman who speaks very good English. She and I got to talk at length yesterday while we waited for the albergue to open, so we traded stories about family trees and where our ancestors originated. I commented on the fact that an ambulance outside was a Volkswagen and told her my family´s history with the company. Apparently she worked at a factory there for three summers when she was a student, which highly increased her cool factor in my book.
While I was walking today I passed my Italian friends, who gave me one of their granola bars. The daughter´s leg is still hurt, so she had her pack driven here to Castrojeriz and was only carrying water. She asked me to pray for her again tonight, so sometime before bed I´m going to have to figure out in which hostel she´s staying.
I also got to meet in person the Alabama girl about whom I´ve heard so much gossip. Apparently she goes to Red Mountain Presbyterian and has a sister who went to Samford. She commented on the fact that I´m pretty much the only other Christian she´s met, and that she talked with her German friend for about 6 hours one day about God and explained some of Lewis´The Great Divorce to him, which made him cry. I´m hoping to talk to her some more to discern whether the gossip is true, but so far I´m inclined to think it isn´t if she´s witnessing to this guy. If it is, that will be disappointing, but she told me today she thought all day about the vision God´s given me and how great an idea it is, so we´ll see what happens.
Pray for healing for my Italian friend! God bless!

Homesick

Well, friends, I am in Burgos in a huge but very nice and cheap albergue (something like 110 places) and am already anxious to be back out in the country. I don´t know if it was the tuna empanada I ate for dinner, spiritual warfare because tomorrow is the day I enter the Meseta, constipation, the busy city and museum-like cathedral, or some combination of all of them, but I´m not feeling my best. For one, I´m feeling the first slight pangs of homesickness for my familiar loved ones and settings. I´ve also already lost a notch on my belt which means there´s no natural padding between my hips and the waist band of my pack. Bruises like that get rather painful towards the end of the day.
On the bright side, my Quebecan friend gave me a similar report to my Korean friend regarding her foot, saying "whatever you did" really helped. That´s 3 points for the Master Healer for those of you keeping score at home. Also reunited with my other Nebraskan friend (not the female pastor, though I feel compelled after my last post to say that despite her somewhat combatant liberalism she really is quite kind) and talked with him for a while. Didn´t have much to do this afternoon, so I toured the cathedral, which was beautiful but very much a museum instead of a church building. My favorite part was a Flemish tapestry on display portraying God´s creation and presentation of Eve to Adam. It was very sweet how God hugged Eve close (like a Father!), she shyly hid half of her face in his robe, and Adam had this expression that looked as if he was thinking "Holy moly!"
The pilgrims´mass felt fairly dry compared to the wonderful mass in Logroño. I find it a bit disappointing each time that apparently Catholics don´t take what I consider full Communion, but only the Body. It doesn´t help that Spanish is barely my second language, but I´m already looking forward to my first Anglican worship in Madrid on the 26th!
My older Californian friend seems to have taken more of a liking to me since yesterday, so hopefully I can turn that to my advantage in telling him about Jesus. I think it was be particularly important on the Meseta for me to keep my Bible close and be ready to share. Although he seems to like doing most of the talking in any thoughtful conversation, he is a respectful listener as well.
That´s pretty much all I have for now. I probably will not have a chance to write any updates while I´m on the Meseta, but please continue to pray for me and my fellows. God bless!

A Busy Afternoon

Just thought I´d take ten minutes (and 50 centivos) to update you all on how the Lord is working with my fellow pilgrims. As an English major, let me just say it´s tempting to compare this group to the one from Canterbury Tales because of its diversity. And I seem to be the chaplain of the group.
Yesterday I wandered around the city and found that my Irish, French, female Californian, and female Quebecan friends were all staying in the private hostel down the street. So I sat with them for the afternoon. Later, when it was just my Quebecan friend and me, the older Californian man joined us, and shortly thereafter the female pastor from Nebraska. To my excitement, the conversation turned to God, though the subject of female ordination came up and to my chagrin I had to try to explain the Anglican church´s stance to the indignant pastor as well as I could in front of the Californian who had already told us he used to be Catholic and has fallen away from the faith. Of all the things to make me talk about in front of someone who needs Jesus!
The conversation had fruit, however, though I stayed silent for most of it. The Californian and Nebraskan both urged my Quebecan friend to decouple the individual Christians from the corrupt institution of the church that she cannot stand. She informed us this was impossible for her, but she did allow me to pray for her feet afterward and I hope I disarmed her by apologizing for the Universal Church. She thinks I´m sweet, which we may pray will be a start of falling in love with our Lord and Savior!

A Better Model

So last night I stayed in Tosantos, which was even better than Grañon for several reasons. The older man who seemed to be the chief volunteer was difinitely a man of peace. Under his gentle guidance I was able to take his deep, soft-spoken orders to prepare the sauce for the pasta we all had for dinner tonight, which was about an hour´s work. After dinner he recruited me as his translator for those who didn´t speak Spanish, which was a definite stretch of my skills. The prayer service was absolutely wonderful as well because this time there was no question we were praying to Jesus Christ. After the read portion we each took a prayer written by a previous pilgrim in our own language and read it aloud, repeating "Amen" each time. A very cool idea, and it built a sense of fellowship with other pilgrims going at a different pace.
Also had a very interesting conversation with an older South African woman who is really into herbs and mysticism. During the prayer in Grañon she prayed to "the risen Christ," which doesn´t quite satisfy 1 John 4:2, but I wanted to give her another chance. She told me the other afternoon that she is walking in search of the great mysteries of Christianity that "we daren´t even speak of" that were repressed by the politically motivated Catholic church. Personally I think the greatest mysteries are at the center of our doctrine (not repressed), namely the incarnation and resursection of Jesus and his presence in the elements of Communion. When I mentioned this to her yesterday afternoon, she suggested I check out something called anthroposophy, which looks rather too much like Gnosticism or perhaps New Age for my taste. At least now I know how to pray for her.
This morning I slowed my pace to walk with a young woman from New York who has been living in Paris for the past 8 months. Seems to fall into my category of pilgrims that don´t really ever get a job. She remarked on the fact that my prayer for both my Korean friend´s and the Danish lady´s feet both seem to have been effective, but tried to give me credit even after I said "2 points for Jesus!" So I corrected her theology by telling her that I merely ask, and Jesus does the actual healing. After that I told her the vision God has given me, and she seemed impressed, though I noted she never said "God" or "Jesus" or "pray," even when she asked me to "work with" her foot like I did for the others if we stayed in the same place. She also got treated to the story of how my girlfriend and I got together, and a full run-down of my family. I kept hoping she would respond with some of her own personal details, but she kept her cards close to the chest. I guess I still haveabout 4 weeks to ease the details out of her. We´re not staying in the same place, but I expect we´ll run into each other a few more times before we get to Santiago.
Another insight I had yesterday that an experience I had today compounded: some of these churches really need to find better spokespersons than these older, schoolmarm-ish women. Yesterday afternoon we all got to go up to a historic hermitage, but our tour guide was a rather fierce, highly religious woman who had little patience for the English-speaker´s attempts to translate for each other. Women like that are dear to me because I find them quirky but generally harmless, but she seemed to become a subject of mockery for my atheist/agnostic friends (Irish, female Quebecan, French, and Californian) based on the laughter I heard during the walk back to the hostel and while I was helping cook. A similar woman here in Agés responded rather harshly in the negative when I asked on my way out of the church if there would be a mass tonight. These churches need more gentle folks like the hospitalero from last night.
I´m beginning to think I might have to walk through rain soon, since yesterday and today I had some cloud cover. If things turn out like they did last time it´ll be on the Meseta, where I still expect to find the place God has set aside for me. My New York friend from today seemed to think I´m right on in thinking so, which was a small encouragement.
Anyway, it will be nice tonight to sleep on the firm mattresses of this municipal hostel (at which I definitely stayed last time; I remember every detail and little has changed) since the two parish hostels from the past two days had the equivalent of gym mats for our beds. Until next time, God bless!

A Good Model

So the place I stayed last night (in Grañon for all you map-checkers) is a nearly identical model of what I´d like to create in the Camino somewhere. They had a communal supper that was prepared by the hospitaleros and several pilgrims, a prayer for dinner, everyone helped clean up afterwards, we sang my Irish friend "Happy birthday" in French, Spanish, English, Portugese, Danish, German, Korean, and Italian, and they had a very solemn prayer service for all of us to attend as we pleased. Oh, and it was donation-only. I would have appreciated the hospitalera explicitly stating "the Lord Jesus Christ" just once instead of constantly saying "the one who is above," but otherwise it was a very good model of what I´d like to do. They defintiely are committed to caring for the pilgrims´spiritual needs as well as their physical needs.

After that I treated and prayed for an older Danish woman´s very sore and blister-y feet, which was good. I also got to pray for my younger Italian friend´s foot and knee (after which she gave me a hug and giant smack on the jaw. She has to be the most Italian person I have ever met, because I´m the third person I´ve seen her do that to, and she is constantly petting all the guys on the head and gives out hugs like a broken ATM spits out bills) and my French friend´s knee and foot (she´s from Toulos, by the way). All of them were very grateful, though I wonder if my French friend is a Christian. Need to follow up on it.

I mentioned last time that there was a piano and a guitar in Grañon. A Quebecan guy who´s been part of our group for a while played it really well, and the Australian I met in Los Arcos also played. The Quebecan was also quite the guitarist, so I taught everyone listening the blues version of "Amazing grace." My French friend and I both lacked the practice to play most of the piano classicals we learned as teenagers, but she was quite good once she got less timid (it helped when there were only 2 other people in the room). She enjoyed learning the "Heart and Soul" duet as well, so we had good fun.

Today I´m in a similar place that has a communal, prayed-for dinner and is donations only. They have a visit to some historical chapel up in the hills before dinner and a prayer service after dinner. I´m hoping my Nebraskan friend makes it here because he has very swollen tendonitis in his right ankle and I´d like to pray for him if he´ll let me. My other Quebecan friend had to take a bus today becaus of her infected blister, so I would like to pray for her as well if she´ll let me.

A couple of insights I have to share with you to help process. First, it seems that for a lot of the pilgrims the idea of having a steady job for a long time is out of the question. My male Quebecan friend is 33 but seems to always be on the move and travelling, bartending and the like to support himself.

Also, whereas even Americans who shack up seem to generally want to get married, people seem to think of it as an unnecessary hassle in the rest of the world. (Well, maybe not in Asia, but I have only talked to one Korean so far, so I hardly have a good sampling.) The phenomenon of the "Camino couple" has also reached my ears several times through the Santiago grape vine. I even heard one rumor that there´s a girl from Alabama with a boyfriend back home who has been travelling and hooking up with a European since her second day or so. These pilgrims desperately need the Gospel!

One other thing I´d like to let you all know is that I´ve been in touch with the bishop of the Anglican church in Spain and should be meeting with him on Sunday afternoon, June 26. That means I´ll take an overnight bus or train from Santiago to Madrid the day before and join them for their Sunday worship that morning as well, which will be great I´m sure. My Spanish is still a little hazy, but his reply to my email seemed to be very encouraging and I expect he´ll be glad to give me any advice he can. We´ll see for sure on the 26th, anyway! God bless!

Skipped

I only have about 5 minutes, so I have to be fast. I´m still alive, for those of you who had your doubts after I didn´t write an update yesterday. Last night I stayed in what has to be the nicest hostel on the Camino in a town called Azofra. 60 beds and a full kitchen and drying lines in the sun (which means my laundry can actually dry) and only two people per room! I shared the cost of an 8-person dinner prepard by an Italian mother and daughter (so good!) and then learned some french and Italian from two of my new young friends. My roommate was an older and very kind French man who was a very quiet person to sleep with. So nice.
This morning I passed through a town called Cirueña that had many many empty but new apartment buildings and only one hostel. I prayed about it and made ntoe of it, but I got no strong affirmation. I´m still looking to the Meseta as the likeliest place, but we will see.
Today is my Irish friend´s birthday so we will have a good night. There is a piano and guitar in this hostel, which is in the upper portion of an old church, and an American volunteer from CA will be teaching a yoga lesson in a little bit. We´ll be having a good fun time tonight! God bless!

13 Minutes

Is all I have to write something real quick. So I think I left my last post off without any kind of closure on the situation of my Korean friend. Yesterday afternoon I saw her, and she gushed to thank me for "whatever you did to my foot" and said it felt much better. Praise the Lord! We talked for a while and I got to tell her all about my girlfriend (she thought the story of how we met was "the cutest" she´d ever heard) and she told me all about Korea. I would really like to go somewhere in Asia to teach English for a year or so, but I wonder if God would allow it until after I´ve been in Spain for a long season.
We went to mass at the beautiful church in Viana, and after the service the priest asked all the pilgrims to come up for a special blessing. This guys really seemed to be full of the Holy Spirit, because he preached (from what I could understand) a very good sermon on John 14:1-7 and about how Jesus is the center of the Christian faith and life. Awesome. Anyway, after he doused all of us with holy water and laid his hands on all of our heads to bless us, he kindly asked where we were all from. Very cool.
For those of you who are keeping track, I´m in Navarette, which is another relatively short walk. I met my friends from Nebraska, Quebec, and Ireland when I arrived because they had all stopped due to various injuries. Met another American from California who is a Vietnam veteran and very interesting. Also met a couple from Gainesville, FL. All of them are older and seem very rich and well-travelled. Can´t really tell if the Camino is a Christian retreat for them or if it is just an escape from their otherwise hectic lives. Having dinner with them this afternoon, though.
Talked to my friend from Quebec and discovered she is an atheist. I got to explain the difference between Anglicans and Catholics to her, while the Nebraskan listened in silence, and told her a little bit about the Bible, but I really hope to talk to her more. She has a very bad infected blister on one foot, so I might use healing pray as an entry point. Or literature, because she studied French Lit. in college. 1 minute left, got to go, God bless!

Viana

Yesterday I got to have dinner with a Catholic priest from LA, a guy from Australia, and a very good English- speaker from Sweden. They were all very interested and excited about the vision God has given me. Later that night I used my kit to treat my Korean friend´s blisters and then used the BCP to lay on hands for healing prayer (I would have gone extemporaneous, but I was nervous). I left this morning while she was in the bathroom, so I didn´t get to say goodbye, but I know she was at least encouraged.
Something she said during our conversation yesterday afternoon made me realize something I need to start doing as I walk, which is to pray for the Camino itself and safety for all who walk. Apparently a young German woman was raped by a truck driver on the Meseta (further confirming my opinion that it is the worst portion of the pilgrimage), which is the first time anything like that has happened apparently. The more I think about it, I expect God will call me to that area, because it is by far the most depressing portion, and probably the most in need of a peaceful, Holy Spirit presence. Will keep my eyes open especially during that portion, for potential spots and for any women walking by themselves that may need someone to walk with them.
I only walked about 9.5 miles today, a short jump to Viana, through wine country. Very pretty scenery all around, though there were lots of steep ups and downs. Visited the cathedral there, which is absolutely gorgeous and very solemn. Will probably go there after I finish this. Met my Irish friend eating a snack outside, so I talked with her for a while and later saw her sitting and looking contemplative in the church. Hope that´s the Holy Spirit going to work!
The albergue where I stopped is nice, though it has bunk beds stacked in 3s, which is interesting. I got a middle one, but I feel a bit sorry for the girl above me. There was some kind of concert outside playing nice classical music, which added to the peaceful atmosphere, but later they played "My Heart Will Go On," to the great amusement of the girl doing laundry next to me (can´t tell from her accent if she is German or French, but I think it is the former).
Will try to go to mass tonight, so I can hopefully join them for Communion before anyone realises I´m not Catholic. God bless!

People

There´s a German/Austrian woman waiting on me to get off, and I´m in an Austrian hostel with just about all German speakers. So I´m going to keep it short and just talk about the people I´ve had the pleasure to meet along the way. The American was only the first of many new acquaintances yesterday. I met the Irish girl I alerady mentioned, a French Canadian who spoke very good English, another couple of girls from Quebec or France who gave me the leftovers of their pasta-based meal and a glass of wine when I opened the bottle for them. Today I met an Italian who appears to be quite the womanizer but is also a very interesting world traveler. He kept talking about the¨"energy" of people and of the Camino itself, and complimented me on my "rhythm," which I think meant my pace, for he walked with me for a couple of miles before I had to take a break and he saw a couple of young women he had met the night before and walked with them. When I got to Los Arcos (that makes this about a 20-kilometer or 12-mile day for those of you keeping track) I waited about half an hour with two large, older, German men who shared half a banana and half a salted tomato with me and then graciously waved away my offer of peanuts and chocolate. Shortly after i checked in I met a Korean who just quit her job because it was pretty much taking over her life and she thought God was telling her to get out of it. She´s been going very slowly because her boot inserts were too big and gave her some pretty raunchy blisters. I´m going to see if she´ll let me use my blister kit on them later, but hopefully she will at least accept a prayer (she´s Catholic, as is 20% of South Korea, praise the Lord!) and some chocolate.
In other news, before I close, I FOUND RAISINS! I know that´s probably not as exciting to you all as it is to me, but I am as clogged as Chewbacca´s shower drain, so I could really use some help to keep me regular. Also, this means I pretty much have a full trail mix at my disposal, which means I can really start saving money but not compromising my health too much. (My belly is beginning to shrink, I think, but my pants still fit so I´m not too worried.) Anyway, I´m going to give this nice lady the 12:00 minutes left on the timer for whatever she has to do on the computer. God bless!

Smelling the High Heaven

I actually don´t know what that phrase means, but I wanted to use something with the word "smell" in it, and "smell you later" is way too immature (though it is very hilarious). Anyway, don´t have very much time on this computer, mainly because I don´t have many coins to pay it with right now, but I thought I´d tell you a little about my day today.
Actually, let me start with my night. I ate a large dinner (which I think I will make a weekly event because I don´t want to waste away on nuts, fruit and chocolate) that included a large carafe of wine (score!) and then went to write my post, and then to bed at about 5:00 pm. I awoke to a very bright flashlight that one elderly gent was using to get into his bed at about 9:30 pm. Due to the 6 or 7 snorers (I think congestion, deviated septums, sleep apnea, and swollen adnoids are a bigger health issue than a lot of people want to think about; probably because they are married to someone who snores), it took me a couple of hours to fall back to sleep, but I was reawoken at about 5:45 am by most of my roommates getting ready to leave. I had planned to sleep in a bit, but I figured I might as well be off. Unfortunately for those who did not want to get up, one rather annoying man turned the lights on, justifying his action by saying the hostel rules allow light on at 6:00 am. Let me just tell you about this man, because I find myself so strongly repulsed by him that I can´t help but expect Jesus will want me to befriend him somehow before these six weeks are up.
His voice, which appears to be incapable of whispering (another annoying trait this morning), is simultaneously loud, high-pitched, and raspy. He seems to have an aversion to pants, or perhaps clothes in general, because in the room he continually wore a speedo only, which is gross to me even on young, fit men. And, most offensive to me, he did not seem to care about the poor people who were trying to sleep a little bit longer this morning. Oh, and he´s in my room again tonight in Estella.
Anyway, I left Puente de la Reina at about 6:30 this morning and travelled past several recently fertilized wheat fields. I bought a baguette to snack on at a shop in Ciraqui and then pressed on towards Estella. I really want to find some nuts and raisins so I can stop eating out, but so far I have only been able to find peanuts and chocolate. Now, however, thanks to my dicitonary, I can ask for uvas secas next time I look in a supermarket.
I´ve met a couple of English-speakers to talk to. I´m sleeping above an American from Omaha, Nebraska, with whom I had a good conversation while we did our laundry together. I also had a really interesting conversation with an Irish lass (I really hope she´s been wearing sunscreen) who just graduated from college. I won´t write her name for her privacy´s sake, but she studied English there and she´s from Dublin (the Catholic side, for those who don´t know). I asked her what brought her to the Camino, and she told me that she wanted to unwind after a stressful final semester at college. Her sister had walked it before, so she thought it would be fun to do. Apparently her family is "quite religious," so they´re "thrilled" that she´s here. From the sound of it, she is also using this time to figure out her own personal faith while she´s here, so please pray with me that Jesus will touch her during this time and that I will have the discernment and courage to take hwatever part in that that He wants me to. She already knows I´m Anglican because I told her all about why I´m here and how God has used the Camino in my own life. Let us all pray she finds a similar effect on hers!
There´s a pharmacy down the road I´m going to visit to try and find some finger- and toe-nail clippers, because I left mine in the States and my thumb nail got torn a bit so that it catches on just about everything. Wish me luck!
Also, I just wanted to let you all know that despite the frequency of posts this blog has seen so far, I probably will not be posting this much in the future because I want to stay in some smaller villages that will not have internet. but I also want to visit the larger villages and test them out too, so keep reading!

A Tale of Two -onas

So I made it to Barcelona without a hitch, and the customs guy just looked at me to make sure it was really my passport and let me through the gate. Who knows what that ticket agent was talking about, but I guess she wanted to play it safe. Or perhaps she wanted me to spend six pounds to print something unnecessary. Whatever the case, I made it to the public side of the airport and the real adventure began. I ended up going to the tourist desk there in the airport and got a couple of hostel recommendations from the disturbingly friendly woman at the desk. The only bus to Pamplona was at 10:45 pm and arrived at about 5:00 am in Pamplona, but due to the lady´s vehement desire for me to have a good time in my one night in Barcelona I decided to play it safe, avoid the hostels altogether, and take the overnight bus.
That ended up being all right, except for the fact that nothing is open in Pamplona at 5:00 am, and I still needed a pilgrim´s passport in order to stay in any of the hostels on the Camino. Instead of waiting over 5 hours for the tourist office to open, I went ahead and set off, which turned out to be a mixed blessing.
By now you might be wondering, "Wait, did he just skip a whole night of sleep?" Yes, yes I did. The bus ride happened to coincide with one of my more awake times of day back on the east coast of the states, which meant I got to pray and play various math games in my head during the ride, and only got sleepy towards the end of it. Once we arrived in Pamplona I knew there was no chance of me finding a place to stay without spending the entire day in the city, so I walked. I should also mention, because it´s to God´s credit, that the only thing I ate between my 5:00 pm Tuesday arrival in Barcelona and about 11:00 am on Wednesday (at which time I got to get a piece of real tortilla española) was a bag of salted peanuts. God sustained me for about 15 miles, though, at which point I arrived in a (deliberate!) detour from the main path, a 12th century church called Eunate, which has a hostel attached to it.
Since the hostel didn´t open for 2 hours, I waited in the church and prayed and did my best to stay awake. When 1:30 rolled around, I discovered to my chagrin that they wouldn´t accept me without a pilgrim´s passport. The next place to get one of those was Puente de la Reina (Queen´s point), another 3 miles (keep in mind this is my first day, and I had already crossed a small mountain range). The owner offered to drive to get me one, which was extremely kind of him, but I told him I would go ahead and walk the rest of the way. So I did.
It was a mixed blessing having to come all the way here, because unlike the hostel at Eunate, this one has hot showers and internet, so I was able to take my first shower since I left Florida on the 13th (that´s right, I didn´t take a shower during the entire D.C. visit, boo-yah!) AND, lucky for all of you readers our there, I can post another entry to the blog. Win-win.
God is very much present here and everywhere on the Camino. One thing that unsettled me in Barcelona was the weird look everyone gave me as they passed by on the sidewalk. But as soon as I got to Pamplona, not only did the police officer on patrol smile and return my greeting, but he wished me "Buen camino!" ("good journey," a traditional greeting on the Camino). So much nicer than pretty much everyone in Barcelona except for the tourist information person. (To be fair, my clothes are pretty weird for a beach destination compared to a pilgrimage. I´m sure none of the Barcelonans meant any harm.)
A couple insights I´ll share so far: there is no doubt that pilgrims feel like pilgrims, that is, isolated. I ate in a bar here in Puente de la Reina, and it brought back all the memories of last time. It seems like pretty much every bar in Spain has its "regulars," sort of like Cheers. The servers are friendly to the pilgrims, but there´s no getting around the fact that the pilgrim sits alone and the server sits with some of the regulars when she doesn´t have anything to do. Something to think about if I ever open a restaurant along the Camino: don´t favor the locals and engage the strangers.
Another thing I have noticed within myself is a competitive drive to be the first on the trail. I noticed it in particular when I found myself behind a long line of Koreans with huge packs. I mean, we´re talking little 10-year-olds who weight less than half of me carrying at least as much weight as I am. Anyway, I´ve noticed that I really like to pass people on the trail. I don´t like to see someone in front of me unless I know I can speed by them (which is usually, but not always, the case). It was when I passed what I think was an older English women that I realized how much of a barrier this is to not only my own enjoyment of the experience but also to my ability to witness to my fellow pilgrims. How am I supposed to share the Gospel with people on the road if I´m too focused on just getting by them?
Anyway, I´m going to bed early tonight to start making up for the terrible loss of sleep over the last few days, but know that in between prayers of praise and thanksgiving and hymns (some with all the words, even!) I am praying for all of you. Unless I don´t know you. I´ll start praying for the readers I don´t know tomorrow, so you´re covered too, I suppose. Anyway, have a good day!

Your brother in Christ,
Hunter

Heathrow International

So far, so good. After a fun visit in D.C. with the parents, siblings, nephew, and girlfriend, I checked in at Dulles and the fun began. While I checked my bag in, the ticket agent asked how long I would be in Spain, since any stay over three months requires a visa. I replied confidently that I would not be there that long. She then asked if I had my information for my return to the states, because apparently Spain has gotten very strict about people staying in their country. I told her nervously that I had an email copy if I could only get to a computer. She was a bit wishy-washy in her answer, but concluded that that ought to be good enough.
After I went through security, I asked the very kind woman at the information desk if there was any way for me to print an email. She spent a good while trying to help me, but in the end we came up with nothing. The British Airways lounge had no printers, and the airline lounge that had two printers conspicuously in sight turned me away. As I headed to the gate and kept Matthew 5:5 in mind so as not to make a scene, I tried to forget about it for the flight.
The flight was good, though these overseas flights are somewhat creepy in how rigidly they control when their passengers eat and sleep. I felt like a character from 1984 with my body being manipulated according to the schedules of the friendly British Airways attendants. The food was good, though, with a dinner of lasagna, a roll, a weird spicy corn salad, and 'Eli's Cheesecake.' I couldn't help but wonder if cheesecake is anywhere to be found in 1 Samuel, but I was too tired to look it up.
As you may have guessed by the fact that I am writing right now, I found a place to use the internet and print my information. Let's pray it's enough for the Spanish customs officers. It costs £1 for ten minutes of internet, and each page to print also costs £1. I had to print it twice because the print ate my first attempt shortly after spitting it out. The next time it put up a fuss but I wrestled the page out while a few other travelers watched in what I can only guess was a detached bemusement. Also found a multifaith chapel in the terminal where I could read the daily office, though I can't be sure how much I will retain due to the drowsiness that sets in every time I sit down.
2:30 left on the counter, so let me close this post. I am confident now that God will get me safely from Barcelona to Pamplona, and I am excited to have a clear path once I get there since so far my journey has been rather tortuous. We shall see what the remaining flight brings!

Your brother in Chist,
Hunter

What's the point?

Hey all, I bet you're wondering, "What in the world is this blog for? Why is it titled 'Walking in Love?' What does that epigraph, Ephesians 5:2-3, have to do with it?" Rest assured, your questions will be answered. First, however, I'm going to give you all a little history lesson.

Four years ago, in the fall of 2007, I was a senior in high school. My parents and I decided to go to Spain to walk a pilgrimage called the Camino de Santiago as a family retreat that would allow us all to speak to, hear from, and be touched by God with fewer distractions. For an account of that trip, click here. Since my parents were realistic and knew that they could not walk all 500 miles in the short time we had (as it turned out, I couldn't either), but I wanted to try to walk it all, I ended up alone for 16 days. During that time God did some amazing things to me and through me that have stayed in my memory for these four years.

One thing in particular stuck out to me. Despite the Camino being founded 1200 years ago as an opportunity for penitence, self-examination, and a pretty sweet indulgence certificate (if you're into that sort of thing), a lot of people I met seemed spiritually lost or even dead. Certainly many people treat more as an adventure or tourist destination than anything else. One man, three days out from Santiago (the end), told me hopelessly that he had expected something divine to happen. Nothing did, however, so the walking had become nothing more than "a personal weight-loss program." I know he is not alone in his sentiment. With tens of thousands of pilgrims walking the path each year, the Camino is now a huge harvest field for the Gospel.

For three years after I returned I daydreamed about returning, perhaps as a hostel-owner to serve pilgrims and act as a chaplain or even missionary to the pilgrims. As my sophomore year of college came to a close and I thought about what I was going to do after college, it clicked. Far from being a daydream, this vision was something that I could actually do! My parents confirmed it when I told them and they reacted not by getting upset that their youngest child and only son wanted to go overseas, but by excitedly advising me on practical steps to make this vision happen.

One of the steps (no pun intended) that we agreed upon was that I need to walk the Camino again, not only as a pilgrim this time but as a scout. Where would be a good place to start what I hope will one day be a network of Jesus-loving, Bible-believing, evangelical hostels and churches on the Camino? This summer, from May 16 to June 27, I will walk the Camino once more to prayerfully discern the answer to this question. As often as I can I will update this blog with whatever God tells me is important for you readers to know.

So what's with the title of the blog? For one thing, I am certain that this trip is completely in God's will for my life, so I am walking in his love. I also happen to know that at least two churches and many of my friends will be interceding in prayer for me every step of the way, so I am walking in the love of the saints. Finally, I am walking out of love for God and my fellow pilgrims and a desire to perform the ultimate service by proclaiming the Gospel of Jesus Christ not only in the future but during this trip.

So reader, whether you know me or not, however you heard about this blog, please pray for me. Pray that I will meet like-minded servants of Christ on the way with whom I can network in the future. Pray that I will receive visions of where God wants to start this ministry. Pray that God will lead me in ministering to my fellow pilgrims every day, whether it is simply by providing friendly company to a lonely extrovert, treating blisters (everyone has them, not everyone has the proper tools to treat them), or even laying out the Gospel message. Pray that God will convict me of my own sins and shortcomings and heal me of them. Pray however you feel led.

Thank you for taking the time to read this, and I hope that when the time comes you will read about my experience and be blessed by it. God bless!