Buen Camino!

I am home. Looking back, and rubbing my knees thoughtfully, I am again mildly astonished that I had the temerity to attempt the camino. So much could have gone wrong (but didn't), including what I had actually feared most: that I would start walking and discover that I didn't want to be there, that the memories of that first camino that called me back were false, or that I had changed, or that the camino had changed, that the presence that I had felt so close to ten years ago was simply absent. 

It was all there, the same joy to be out and walking first thing in the morning, the same transient but deep friendship with others sharing the way, the same sense of walking in that presence, guarded, encouraged, cared for and sheltered. As before, I felt myself not so much walking alone but walking with the silent company of all who had ever walked the way, one with a huge fellowship of people, but not feeling crowded out or intimidated or unwelcome.  My memory was not wrong.

I am glad to be home.  Here is where I should be, tending the allotment, managing the cooking and the shopping, fretting about the things that need to be done before the children and their families come to visit. There's a lot of work to catch up with in the house. There are some ageing and ailing neighbours to spend some time with.  I have some things hanging over me at what I used to call work. There is Foodbank on Mondays and violin making on Tuesdays and orchestra on Thursdays, and friends to keep in touch with. It is not a heroic life, or a holy life, but it is my life. And I have a sense that God is perfectly happy for me to just get on with it, as well as I can, that he will call me if he needs me to do anything else.

One of the take-home's of the camino has been that I think God not only doesn't mind if I get on quietly with my life in this way, he also doesn't mind my enjoying it.  I asked Him many many times if it was ok for me to do the camino, given that it was essentially totally selfish, benefiting nobody but myself, and putting others - friends, neighbours and husband, to some trouble filling in for me. He didn't say no, which I took to be a yes, I enjoyed it, and I'm sure he meant me to enjoy it.  

The trip has changed our relationship. I had imagined Him more austere, requiring me to prove my acceptance of Him as my Lord through great sacrifices or great suffering. Going back to the "Stop Mumbling post, it begins to acquire a different hue in my mind. The tasks He sets for me in a day are not set as a penance, just as a pattern of behaviour that will enable me to be a positive support for those around me, rather than a part of their problems. The miles underfoot between Zamora and Santiago were not penance, just part of the way. 

The Lord's prayer still says it all for me. His will be done, not mine - see it, accept it, do it. Daily bread - share it. Forgiveness - forgive and accept forgiveness, both. Recognise temptation and stand strong against it. Evil may come, I pray it won't, but if it does, I am in His hand, and He will see me through it. The prayer is not essentially different from what it was a month ago, but it has softened through a sense of acceptance - that both He and I accept me as I am.  A new confidence in His love has taken some of the rough edges off the command "Do My Will".  I think He knows I'll try.  I had long felt that His service really is perfect freedom - no more agonising over the choices of life, I've got my instructions. But I see now that His service is also joy, that doing it is something to look forward to, just as each day on the Camino setting out with the sharp morning light casting bright and shadow across the hills and the mist in the valleys was a heart aching delight. Hard work, sore shoulders, sore knees, hunger all to come, but each step a delight.

I knew that I had set out to walk approximately 400km, 250 miles, approximately the distance from Cambridge to Keswick. It sounds scary like that, but each day, just one foot at a time, looking to the next river crossing, cafe, albergue, it's not so hard. Each step is doable. I get sometimes a little scared of what He might yet ask me to do, to endure, to accept, but I am gaining the confidence that it will be no more difficult than walking 250 miles from Zamora to Santiago.  One step at a time, and in excellent Company.

Buen Camino all!

A day-to-day account of the trip is here:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1xAzdw2qjjvxQOjh64m3kIVvL7ay0Xfwt/view?usp=sharing

The link to the photo album is here:
https://photos.app.goo.gl/gwTPgHwk2bPvyNTs8



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