The Camino Trail Part 2: Blessings on the Way

Last month I had the incredible experience of hiking the Camino de Santiago in Spain. Here’s the second installment about the adventure!

An often-repeated comment by people who have hiked the Camino is that they were touched by others they met along the way. (Have you seen the movie The Way? If so, you know what I mean). I expected to make new friends in our pilgrim tour group, but I didn’t expect to be moved by strangers on the walk. As always, God is full of surprises.

One morning, after snapping pictures of several beautiful vistas, I accidently dropped my cell phone into the zippered air vent of my jacket instead of the zippered pocket. Did the walkers 500 feet back see it fall? Or did they just happen to find it? Did the Holy Spirit point it out to them?  All I know is that from my spot on the road ahead, I gradually noticed their shouts: “Amigo! Friend! Pilgrim! Peregrino! Hey!”

When I finally turned around, a couple was quickly approaching, the woman frantically waving my cell phone above her head.

“Thank you!” I exclaimed, my heart pounding and panicked at the thought I almost lost it. For the next few hours I thought about my excessive affection for my phone. It’s loaded with pictures and important contacts to be sure, but after all, it’s just a phone. What other possessions am I overly attached to? I remembered the admonition to enjoy the blessings and gifts God gives you while you have them, but graciously let them go when it’s time. It gave me something to pray about for the rest of that day.

These were not the only kind strangers. Although nature provides plenty of outdoor bathroom space along the trail, most hikers try to use an indoor one.

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The End of Arguing: That’s an Interesting Perspective

Over the holidays I witnessed several disagreements. Nothing serious, just typical quarrels, everyone involved determined to prove their point. Alcohol tends to bring out the debater in people, but even many sober people seem to genuinely enjoy arguing.

Some points are facts – medical issues for example, or how to properly take care of wool. Lots more are opinion. Should a certain book belong on the best seller list, or is it there only because of the author’s fame? Should underwear show above a young man’s pants, which are hanging down practically to his knees, or is respectful attire more important than personal freedom? Why does modern music have to include vulgarity?

Certain subjects are important and worth arguing, but many aren’t. And how often do we succeed in convincing someone else to change their opinion, especially on things that don’t really matter in the long run? Not very often – at least not in my case.

I remember one squabble Neil and I had years ago. It was a stupid one, as most of ours were. Frankly, we were only still arguing because we both had an intense need to be right and to have the last word. It went on for a ridiculous amount of time, as neither wanted to concede, even though on some level we both wanted it to end.  

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On Being a Know-It-All


I am such a know-it-all;  we all are sometimes. And of course, we don’t know everything….

Neil and I were in Tuscany. The scenery was magnificent: narrow medieval streets, beautiful vistas visible from walled cities, history so alive I could feel the ancients walking the cobbled roads with us. Despite all this, the most remarkable part of the trip was my discovery of arugula.

We were seated at an outdoor café in the tiny village of Cortona (home to Betty Mayes and “Under the Tuscan Sun”). Before the waiter even took our order, he brought bread and salads. The bread was warm and fragrant, but the salad got all my attention. Simple sliced pears arranged on a bed of green leaves, and drizzled with good Italian olive oil, it was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted. But it wasn’t the perfect pears or the fine olive oil that impressed me, it was those peppery leaves. “Neil, taste this salad! The greens are amazing!”

He raised his eyebrows with a questioning look. “You mean the arugula?” Continue reading →