November 21, 2019

 Cute things jack does:

⁃ goes “ohhhh” when he goes in for an open mouth kiss

⁃ Wants to pet every doggy in sight

⁃ Waves at every airplane and kid going “hi!”

⁃ Walks around with his little bottle after a nap

His little breathing when he falls asleep in the car and his answer with “yeah’s” to every question. The way he stomps his feet to go crunch, crunch, crunch in the leaves and runs to gives us open mouth kisses. Fascinated by every airplane that goes by and waving to every dog. Going up and down the playground with the proudest little closed mouth grin like he just accomplished something wonderful. He bounced his head up and down every time he hears music and could sit and listen forever. He has the sweetest, most sensitive spirit that I’m learning will someday be his strength. He filled with joy that is contagious among strangers everywhere we go. His red hair is continuously a talking point and the subject of many interactions throughout our day. He doesn’t like to nap more than an hour a day, but it’s only because he has so much curiosity and excitement with life, combined with his daddy’s FOMO, which I know will ultimately lead him on extraordinary adventures. I love this child with a love so deep that he can cause my heart to burst with joy and simultaneously tear my heart in two at any given moment. (How does that work?!) My prayer is that he will grow to be courageous and strong, knowing God is with him wherever he goes (Joshua 1:9). This little boy is a world changer and we are so lucky to be entrusted to guide him as he grows. 

There are days my mind drifts back to the sway of trees, cool mountain air, and floating coffee aromas of the Camino. I close my eyes and the path is before me, mounds of backpacks lumbering into the horizon barely formidable in the hues of the distance. Deep breaths for the day, the quiet rhythm of boots crossing a sandy path, and the Return. Always the return into the mysterious morning silence ushering in the morning fog with all its promises for the day. Hushed whispers cross the path, friendships form, stories exchanged. Water from a stranger, shade from a tree, snacks of olives and prunes from local food stands. The not knowing of where you will lay your head and the trust that you will always have a place. The top of a church enclave, the basement of Catholic mass, perhaps the attic of a local’s home will become a safe haven for the night.

In reality here I am with my whiney toddler, pregnancy hormones, and a floor that hasn’t been actually cleaned in weeks. The chaos of my day engulfs my thoughts with no sign of the unhurried time of the Camino anywhere. I explained this to my friend Jenny recently and she told me: Rebecca, this is your Camino. This is your Camino now, in real life, happening before your eyes. That night I was brushing my teeth and disappearing into the fantasyland of possibly having no children in the house someday and silence and all the time in the world to wash my hair, and in that moment I heard - that time will come, but this is the spiritual practice. The peas smushed into the floor, the cries of my child as he reaches up to be held, the laughter of showing him a world of adventures. This is the Camino.

It is common along the path to encounter pilgrims on their fifth, sixth, seventh Camino. We all carry a longing to return to the place of transformation. We think it is the place that has formed us, crowning it with a magic we expect to continually rediscover there. No doubt, the history and landscape of the Camino is spiritually charged in a way I have rarely encountered in other places. But we don’t live our lives along the Camino. The Camino is in fact the life we encounter after Spain. To bring the path here, to see each day within the mystery of opportunity is to find God along life’s Camino. The Camino lays the foundation, gives me a framework, and has allowed me to experience these days as part of the journey.

We need friends who have walked with us over years of time to remind us of these truths. To help us return to what we already know about ourselves. Thank you Jenny for being that for me; for seeing me and using this sacred experience to help me see Motherhood more clearly. There is nobody else like you. You have reminded me that this is my Camino and I will carry these words in my heart.