Just recently, three women gave me a ride. One of the women asked a question that began a conversation about suffering. This later prompted an email to me from one of them who was aching both physically and spiritually. She was then about to have — and has now had — a surgery that has uncovered the need for another, more aggressive surgery. The physical pain has tapped into the spiritual pain. It nearly always does.
After writing three columns about the Camino this summer, it seemed excessive to do one more. But who am I kidding? I’ll be writing about this forever!
School supplies in the aisle at the grocery store bring on such nostalgia. Upon seeing them, I usually want to scoop up some notebooks, pencils, erasers and, of course, a new pack of crayons. And, I’m not exactly school-aged.
It was 2004, and I was volunteering. Sister Edward would assign me tasks, and I never knew what to expect. There were days of washing dishes and days of cleaning bedrooms. There was one wonderful thing; my friend, Ellie, was the best at laundry. Since we were volunteering with the Missionaries of Charity, there were no washing machines. Ellie did it all by hand, and I never begrudged her this.
Sometimes saints can seem “dusty” and not able to relate to us today. Among them is St. Bernard of Clairvaux — a mystic, preacher, contemplative and doctor of the Church.
Well, I got a nickname. It’s “Tortuga,” Spanish for “turtle.” A woman gave it to me on the Camino, which is the walking pilgrimage I’m on across Spain to the tomb of the Apostle James in Santiago.
There is a saying that “the Camino will provide.” Having completed our second week on the Way of St. James in Spain, my stepsister, Brenda, and I have found this to be true.
It has begun. My stepsister, Brenda, and I have arrived and begun the trek from the northwestern tip of France, across Spain to Santiago, the resting place of St. James the Apostle. The journey has a name: “the Camino” — in Spanish, “The Way.”
Now and then, God gives us “winks” to let us know that he will be testing us, but that we are to still trust him. This summer will be just such a time.
