25 Prayers of Christmas, Day 9

When you are a kid you will dream up all kinds of ways to get attention.

Any time one of my classmates would show up to school with an injury -- a broken bone, a black eye, stitches -- I can remember wishing it was me. That I was the one with a broken leg, the one who needed someone to carry my books, help me to recess, that I was the one wearing the cast that everyone wanted to sign.

I wasn't going to go out and purposely break my leg, however, so when time passed without any broken bones I had to come up with other ways of getting attention -- talking a lot, getting good grades, flirting with boys.

Fast forward to the year I turned 30 and I find myself with a broken rib and a sprained ankle after a 4-wheeling accident. I wasn't looking for attention at this point, just trying to have a good time with family and friends. But a couple of months after the accident I was still having issues, so I went to the hospital for a full body scan. They told me my rib had healed perfectly, and the lower body pain was not from the accident but due to arthritis, a result of the leg I broke as a child.

"I never broke my leg," I told the technician.

"The scans don't lie," she said.

Funny. All that time I thought my prayers had gone unanswered. But somewhere along the way I had gotten exactly what I'd wished for. I just hadn't looked deep enough to see it.

I wonder how often our prayers get answered and, for whatever reason, we don't realize it. Maybe they don't get answered the way we want them to, or in our timing. Maybe we're too busy to see what God has done and is doing in our lives.

Whatever we are praying for this Christmas -- reconciliation, joy, love, new life, work opportunities, good health -- may we take the time to slow down, to recognize God at work, and to believe that He always answers our prayers.

#FacebookFail

I started the day with a text message from one of my best friends: "OMG... I just saw Facebook. Are you okay???"

I did a mental check. Wondered if I had posted something the night before when I was tired that could be misconstrued. We had gotten ourselves into a precarious situation the day before when hiking, but I was pretty sure I'd kept that bit of information to myself. Finally I opened Facebook and saw the culprit.

It wasn't something I had posted, but something someone else had posted on my wall. It was the worst of all possible things someone could have posted. And even though I didn't believe it for a second, it still took my breath away:

"Wanted to send support to you over the loss of your mother."

It had been a week since I'd talked to my parents, but there was no possible way I would find out something so devastating as this on Facebook of all places. Yes, my father would be wrecked, but he would still find it in himself to make that horrible phone call.

My gut reaction was to reply to the comment and ask if he'd meant my GRANDmother who passed away in early summer. And then to say that this is how rumors are started and you need to get your facts straight. But that tiny seed of fear had been planted. And I had to call to be sure.

Of course no one answered the home phone. And that tiny seed began to take root. But when I called my mom's cell she picked up right away. "I just called to make sure you are alive," I said. "Yep, I'm alive," she answered cheerfully. And I breathed a sigh of relief.

While my situation turned out to be a misunderstanding, there are people who have learned devastating news about loved ones in equally impersonal and public ways. I didn't confront the person who made this post, knowing that it wasn't malicious, but it did make me pause and think about how we use social media and how we can use it better.

First of all, it would be wise to let the family make the first mention of the loss. Once that person has made the information public, then feel free to offer condolences in the comment section. Second, make sure you have your facts straight, including what this person's relationship was to the deceased. Third, make use of Facebook Messenger to send a private message. If you are making a public statement just so everyone else can see it, then your motives are wrong.

And finally, if you have a way of contacting your friend/loved one outside of social media, do it. One of Randy's best friends from high school passed away this week and he's been on the phone ever since. Not checking Facebook for updates, but making actual phone calls to family and friends. Offering condolences and breaking the news in a more personal way than a text or a post.

Facebook is a wonderful service when it is used to keep in contact with family and friends, but we are responsible for using it wisely.

Attitude is Everything

"Oppression isn’t about what is external to your life;
it’s about how you respond to life." -Marilyn Hickey

In early May, Randy and I were playing a game of UNO in the waiting room, his oldest brother working on his laptop nearby, when the doctor came out and asked us as a family to go somewhere more private. He took us to what I can only think of as the "bad news room". Where he told us that Randy's mom's heart condition was more serious than he previously thought. He said there was nothing he could do. No surgeries. No medications. No restrictions. She should do what she wanted, go where she wanted, live how she wanted in the time she had left. Which he guessed was no more than six months.

We had the terrible responsibility of breaking the news to the rest of the family. And to Mom herself.

But the most incredible thing happened: she didn't believe it. At first I thought she was in denial. Like one of these days it would just all of a sudden hit her, the severity of her health condition. But week after week she showed no signs of slowing down. Perhaps it wasn't denial at all, but stubbornness and a sheer will to live.

In her mind she still has things to live for, and because of that she is determined to live to see them fulfilled.

During our visit to the doctor last week, the same doctor who gave her a less than six-month life expectancy, he said, "There is no medical explanation for how well you are doing right now." She'd just aced her walking test, her oxygen levels holding steady and nearly as high as mine. "Then why am I not sick?" she asked. "Tenacity," he said. There it was again: stubbornness and a sheer will to live.

Maybe a positive, determined attitude isn't enough to keep her going until she is 100. Maybe it isn't enough to heal her damaged heart. But it is more than enough to help her live life to the fullest for as many days as she has left.

I'm so blessed to have this woman in my life, to call her Mom, and to have the example that a positive attitude will serve you well.

Canadians, Cookies, and Another Trip to the Pharmacy

Day 10 of walking: Samos to Barbadelo, 18.8 km

Total for 10 days of walking: 210.2 kilometers!

Today felt much more like last year’s Camino. Perhaps it was the presence of other pilgrims on our route. Or because it was actually hot today. Maybe it was stopping in someone's backyard for a cold drink. Or simply because we have so many kilometers under our belts. Whatever it was, we felt grateful for it!

After leaving Samos at noon (because I had to work in the morning – that’s right! We’re still carrying the computer!), we started seeing other pilgrims right away. But interestingly, one of the first pilgrims we met was headed right towards us.

“I think you are going the wrong way,” Rand said to the young Canadian. “Santiago is that way,” pointing behind her.

She laughed. “Are you in a hurry?” she asked. “Do you have a minute?”

She clearly didn’t know who she was talking to. It was noon and we were just getting started!

The reason she wanted to chat was because she had been lost for the last couple hours. The Camino isn’t as well marked when you are walking “backwards”, from Santiago to St. Jean Pied de Port. Reminding us that we often take for granted that we are going the right direction.

She pulled a map out of her pocket, which wasn’t much more than a list of towns. We assured her that she would have no trouble getting to Samos. Beyond that, she would have to trust the Camino to provide.

We didn’t take the time to discover why she was walking the Camino in reverse, but I imagine it was more personal than something to discuss in passing. But we wished her well and told her we were most impressed by her.

She said that she’d left Santiago 6 days before, so we were nearing our finish. “I can’t imagine how I’ll feel when I’m 6 days away from the end of my Camino,” she said. Rand and I are just starting to process that ourselves.

Shortly after leaving the young Canadian woman, we came across a shirt lying on the path. We picked it up and carried it with us until we met a group of high school kids. “Does this belong to you?” we asked. “Do you want a digestive cookie?” one of them asked in response. Something about this exchange made us instant friends.

They were 7 high schoolers and one leader, from an international school in Germany. It was their spring break, so this was mostly for fun, but was also a “kind of mission trip”. One of the girls was Dutch American. Another was Swiss American. The boy we spent the most time walking and talking with was from Missouri, but had been living overseas for the past 4 years. We didn’t take the same breaks throughout the day, but each time we bumped into one another it was like we’d been friends forever. All because of a digestive cookie!

Later, when we stopped to eat a snack in someone’s front yard, I ended up resting my arm on the same poisonous weed that I encountered last year. Rand watched in horrified amazement as my arm, in a matter of minutes, went from turning red to covered in welts. Luckily I had the same experience last year, so I assured him it wouldn’t last long. Within the hour it was back to just being red, and by the time we arrived at the Farmacia several hours later, there was no physical evidence of the allergic reaction; simply an irresistible urge to scratch. The pharmacist gave me some allergy cream and when we showed her a picture of the "burn weed" she said, “Very common and nothing to worry about.”

All part of the adventure!

A Real Rest

Day 9 of walking: Alto do Poio to Samos, 23 km

The one thing I wished I’d had last year on Camino was a pair of tennis shoes. Yes, they are bulky and heavier than a pair of sandals or flip flops, but they also provide a secondary pair of shoes that you can actually wear while walking the Camino. As opposed to just in the evenings when you are resting or walking to dinner.

This year I brought a pair and am so glad I did! I have worn them every day and they have provided my feet with great relief. I wear them for about 5 kilometers, either at the beginning or the end of our day, when we are on long stretches of pavement.

It helps that my backpack isn’t as heavy this year. So I don’t need the ankle support of the boots that I did last year due to the excess weight on my back.

Rand and I went to REI and were fitted for backpacks and that too has made a world of difference! We haven’t had any trouble with our backs or shoulders this year. You would think a backpack is just a backpack, but when you are carrying it 8+ hours a day the fit really does matter!

The most important thing is still the right pair of hiking boots. Rand and I are both wearing different boots this year. I had a pair at home that I loved and simply bought the same pair in a half size bigger, to allow my feet to breathe and stretch. Rand, too, had a pair at home, wider than the pair he wore last year, and they are working well for him. We used to have to stop regularly because his foot would ache (in the same place where I broke mine!). And my broken foot was definitely due to wearing the wrong pair of boots.

All of these contribute to our being able to take longer walks this year. Added to the determination to finish. But still we take many small breaks and one long one each day.

Matthew 11:28-30, in the Message Bible, says,

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

On this trip we’ve learned what it means to take a real rest. Not a pop in for quick cup of coffee and to use the bathroom rest. Not a sit down by the side of the road and drink some water rest. But a real rest. A stop, take off your boots, and don’t get up again for at least an hour rest. We will walk 10 kilometers, stop and take a real rest, and then are able to walk another 10, doubling our average walk day last year.

It gives me a lot to think about, when I relate this to the Scripture. Jesus doesn’t want me to just pop in every now and again. But He wants me to dwell, to linger, to lay down in the grass and put my feet up in His presence. And when I do, I can go so much further in life.

Today, taking care of ourselves and taking a real rest meant being able to see this view, of one of the oldest monasteries in the western world. And getting to walk down to it and spend the night in beautiful Samos!

Significant Places

Day 6 of walking: Ponferrada to Villafranca del Bierzo, 23.4 km

While riding the bus felt like a fast forward version of Rand and my Camino, today's walk from Ponferrada to Villafranca felt like an intense look at the most significant places of my solo journey.

Ponferrada is where I met Rowena and took her to the doctor for her leg. And where I later returned to go to the hospital myself. It's where I spent several days at the castle hotel, bought crutches and an orthopedic boot, and began my slow journey forward by bus and taxi.

The highlight of the day for me was walking by the pharmacy where I bought my crutches and was told my Camino was over. Less than a year later here I was again with two happy, healthy feet and not so much as a blister.

Later in the day we passed through Cacabelos. It was in this town that I realized I would never make it to Santiago in time. But instead of throwing in the towel, I called the airlines and extended my stay an extra 10 days.

Finally we came to Villafranca where we would spend the night at possibly the most magnificent place on the whole Camino. (All pilgrims who need a night off from the Albergues should stay at the micro hostel La Puerta del Perdon!)

It was in this town that I spent Easter weekend last year. Where I attempted to rest, reflect on the spiritual parts of this journey, and was kicked out of Jesus' procession for being a girl. I would only walk one more day after this before taking the bus back to the hospital in Ponferrada.

Ponferrada where I had left almost a week before. 

And we tackled that stretch all today!

It was exciting for me to walk this today and feel so good. But talking with Rand made me realize how hard this stretch was for him. To know I was hurting but to be so far away and not be able to help. Sometimes I think it is harder for us to see the ones we love hurting, than it is to be the one who is hurt.

La Cruz de Ferro

Day 4 of walking: Rabanal del Camino to el Acebo, 17 km

Today we visited the Iron Cross, la Cruz de Ferro, where pilgrims from all over the world bring stones from home to place at the foot of the cross.

Last year some were disappointed that I didn't bring anything from Ohio to place at the cross. But I carried with me instead the stones that Randy had brought with him. And because of time constraints wasn't able to take them to the cross himself. (Read last year's blog post here.)

This year, however, Rand had the idea to bring something special to the cross: an Ohio buckeye. I had given him one last year for his birthday as part of his "get to know Ohio" gift. And he thought it would be fitting to bring it to the cross. Together.

We also brought with us a bracelet that read "Team Jeremiah" and "Fight Against Leukemia" for a very special 9-year-old boy in Ohio. He is not only facing something more difficult and painful than I can even imagine, but he is doing it with a positive attitude and a learning mind. It is this kind of child-like faith and curiosity that will lead to a cure.

Bringing something from home to this place is a way to symbolize our collective journey, as well as what we individually bring to the table. Perhaps last year I wasn't convinced that I had something worthwhile to contribute. Maybe it took Randy and the faith of a little boy to show me otherwise. Because this I know to be true: we all matter.

La Farmacia

Day 3 of walking: San Justo de la Vega to Rabanal del Camino, 23.8 km

Something every pilgrim has to deal with is a trip to the pharmacy. While the reasons for visiting the pharmacy are rarely fun (you can buy toothpaste, deoderant, etc., but chances are you are there for pain or sickness), the pharmacists do their best to make it a good experience.

I wasn't expecting to have to go the pharmacy so early in the trip, but I am very grateful that it had nothing to do with my feet!

Luckily we found ourselves in a larger town (Astorga), where pharmacies always have at least one person on duty who speaks English. My Spanish is pretty good when it comes to basic conversation, but explaining that I had a sore throat but no cold or cough or other symptoms was beyond my ability.

Our pharmacist spoke near perfect English and was very thorough. She listened to my complaints and asked more questions than most after hours clinics in America. I left with a package of losenges and feeling well taken care of.

This was also my experience last year. Looking for compeed for blisters, inserts for my boots, crutches for a broken foot, anti-inflammatories for tendonitis, and cortison for a rash I developed after stopping for a rest in a park. At every different pharmacy I was listened to and treated quickly and efficiently.

A woman I spoke to who had sprained her ankle also had a great experience at the pharmacy. She said the pharmacist assessed her ankle to see what kind of sprain it was in order to give her the right kind of brace.

There are so many ways that this country takes care of its pilgrims. But pharmacies may be one of the most important. I am so grateful for those called to serve in the medical profession!