In the Silence

"We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is a friend of silence. See how nature, trees, flowers, grass, grow in silence? See the stars, the moon, the sun, how they move in silence? Is it not our mission to give God to the poor - and not a dead god, but a living, loving God? The more we receive in a silent prayer, the more we can give in our active life. We need silence to be able to touch souls. The essential thing is not what we say, but what God says to us and through us. All our words will be useless unless they come from within. Words which do not give the light of Christ increase the darkness."

:: Mother Theresa

{as quoted in interview "Care of the Soul" with Brennan Manning}

sunrise :: Torrelevega.
Camino 2013

Silence is sacred. 

Here in the everyday to-do of life, it takes discipline. 

It's often seen as Useless or Misunderstood.

Today I embrace silence as more powerful than words. 

If I can do that today, then perhaps I can do it tomorrow, too.

This Is What It Means

It is here in this rhythm of graduate study, the shifting of seasons, and closeness of community that I am feeling alive. While I have always enjoyed learning, it is only recently that I am beginning to experience the depth of what it means to uncover buried passions. To engage in dialogue that stimulates my thinking as I wrestle with big questions about what I believe to shape who I am becoming is the exact experience I have been craving these past few years. 

Apple picking strategies with bro + Britt.

While there have been times that I question my place at Wheaton - I admittedly feel like an outsider looking in on the microcosm of "Good Christian Life" - it is in those exact moments that I am given reminders to show up fully with who I am because HE has called me HERE. The places I feel don't belong - the imperfection, questions, brokenness, past experiences, scars, and weaknesses - are in fact the the pieces of my heart that have been most welcomed. In a commitment to live honestly, I am brought to vulnerably disclose with colleagues and professors who I am in full... and the process of glad acceptance in the context of a "conservative" evangelical university has pointed me to the unconditionality of Christ. I will debate, I won't pretend, and I will be who I am... and it is here that I have seen God.  

A spiritual retreat last weekend, the start of a TA position with my favorite professor, and a recent experience with children while substituting at CHA have curiously confirmed God's movement in my life drawing me to pursue this degree. I am thankful for these blatant reminders telling me to Remain in the midst of occasional doubt.

Community happens around the table and fireside

While it's my habit to respond to academic life with a performance-driven attitude, I know that graduate school is not about the grade or the degree. In fact, it is about the journey. And on top of being fully myself, this is perhaps the most important thing I have learned in the master's program yet. 

Even through the 15 pages papers, annotated bibliographies, and pressure to lead a theological discussion in soteriology (ummm...), I know there's nothing else I would rather be doing right now. It's difficult, it's challenging, it's a lot of work... but nothing that comes easy is good. And in the continual reminder that life is about relationships, school is the beating drum in the background of building into these dear ones who do life alongside me.

Brunch + bike with these CHA teacher friends

Alive ( /əˈlīv/ ): aware of and interested in, responsive to; alert and active; animated

A Quest

When originally considering an M.A in Spiritual Formation at Wheaton, I hardly considered the scene of conversing around a table with fifteen Biblical Exegesis majors discussing matters of soteriology or pneumatology. I am drawn to this program to examine the ways of the heart; to learn the traditions of meditation and recitation; to integrate spiritual practices in the field of education; to awaken my soul and find identity in Him... I am not inherently prone to engaging in the roots of theological differences over the interpretation of Scripture passages. While my faith is alive and free, I've always tossed theology by the wayside when considering what it takes to fully know God.

Commuting via Metra

This week, I was enlightened to the reality of such theological debate with a sense of intimidation and questionable denominational foundation. Immediate hesitation regarding this course came with the overview of the syllabus - 500 pages of weekly reading, outlines, essays, discussions - and settling into the class proved every ounce of it true. When thrown into a class like this without the vocabulary or foundation to intellectually contribute, one cannot help but consider the options: A) run for the hills B) change courses C) fake it till you make it.

train schedule check.

I decided to follow-through with Option C. As I went about my assigned readings for the week, suddenly the boring-age-old-topic of theology was cast in a different light:

"Theology is no undertaking that can be blithely surrendered to others by anyone engaged in the ministry of God's Word. It is no hobby of some especially interested and gifted individuals. A community that is awake and conscious of its commission and task in the world will of necessity be a theologically interested community... Theology is committed directly to the community and especially to those members who are responsible for preaching, teaching, and counseling."
:: Karl Barth, The Place of Theology

Barth went on to demonstrate that theology is dedicated to fixing our eyes on God; a community that is focused on Immanuel - God with us - is one that is thankful and grateful to know the creative Word.

Grad school gear.

Even though Merriam Webster is my new best friend after working on a theology outline for eight hours, I have decided to commit; courageously move forward with learning the intellectual truth of what I believe as illuminated by the God of my heart as I seek to grow as a disciple and contributor to the greater community of the Church.

This is no easy task. It is going to take work.

But as I bear the great responsibility of counseling others in knowing Him, I want to reach that place where I fully stand upon the doctrinal knowledge of truth.

donuts make the brain think quicker.

Coffee is Life right now.

"What is at stake is the quest for truth. Take note that the quest for truth is not imposed on the community by the outside world (as the community in modern times permits itself, to a large extent, to be persuaded). The quest is not imposed in the name and authority of some general norm of truth or some criterion that is generally proclaimed as valid. Instead, it comes from within, or, more precisely, from above; it comes from the Word of God that founds the community and its faith."
:: Barth


Here's to embarking upon this quest of truth whether in the form of studying theology, praying through the journey of spirit & soul, or writing papers until the sun comes up. It is a quest I value in the formation of who I am, who I am becoming, and ushering me into who I want to be. It starts here and now. Onward.

"When it comes to putting broken lives together - when it comes, in religious terms, to the saving of souls - the human best tends to be at odds with the holy best. To do for yourself the best that you have it in you to do - to grit your teeth and clench your firsts in order to survive the world at its harshest and worst - is, by that very act, to be unable to let something be done for you and in you that is more wonderful still. The trouble with steeling yourself against the harshness of reality is that the same steel that secures your life against being destroyed also secures your life against being opened up and transformed by the holy power that life itself comes from. You can survive on your own. You can grow strong on your own. You can even prevail on your own. But you cannot become human on your own."

:: Frederick Buechner

:: The Camino and the friends that made it beautiful ::
< Diana Mini Film >

At Peace At Home

While I originally thought the noise of the city would enter my soul with its stress & anxiety after walking in the quiet mountains of Spain for 5 weeks, I have felt nothing but peace as I step one foot in front of the other into the places God has called me back in Chicago. In the Madrid airport, I felt the dread of Return and Re-entry, the words to describe the Camino were a jumbled mess in my brain as I searched for the perfect phrase or two to sum it all up.

But returning to welcome home signs and birthday presents, hugs and cards, late night tacos and early donut adventures, farmer's markets and tandem bike rides, rooftop movies and local sushi, midnight karaoke and river boat rides, and the genuine excitement of friends & family eagerly awaiting the stories of the Camino have made it feel natural and delightful to be Home.

 Home again.

The lessons of the journey have been a blur in my being until I am given opportunities to practice the simplicity and trust of the Camino in Chicago. It is only in returning to this familiar place that I can recognize Who I am Now compared to Who I was Before. I want to keep the spirit of the journey sacred and safe, and sometimes I fear that this culture of distraction, achievement, and self-absorption will dilute my new self and slowly begin to alter my attitude.

It is my prayer that the Camino is so deeply a part of me that it spills over into how I live each day as I love people, love God, and take life one day at a time.

Togetherness

My intention when I first began the Camino was to have an independent, solo, spiritual journey. I expectantly awaited quiet afternoons of writing and talking to God, combined with isolated walks listening to nature and unplugging from home. I wanted to prove to myself that I carried the strength and ability to do the Impossible and overcome the obstacles that fell in my path. I chatted with everyone on the trail, but avoided joining particular groups or ¨belonging¨ to anybody. I wanted my own journey; personal and relational in my way without the help of another to bring meaning.

And yet, it was only a week into this strong solo journey of mine, that I was struck with a hole of grief in my heart after talking to my Papa for the last time. I laid awake until sunrise as tears dropped to the earth without anybody physically there to pick up the burden and carry it with me. The presence of God was real and near, but I wasn´t aware of how my soul craved the hug of a familiar face until I headed up to my safe-haven of peace, Santander, to find solace on the beach for a day with my Chitown heart friend, Brittany. Over vino in the street, tapas unending, and a morning castle hike, we processed our lives, skyped home, and tatted ourselves with ink commemorating God´s faithfulness. She was there with me, she prayed and encouraged and supported.

It was a week later, after dropping my phone in a Spanish sewer and feeling the unconditional aid of my Camino family as they jumped from their bunks at midnight to fish for it, that I realized once again the weakness and vulnerability and sheer NEED we all carry for people. When we gave up on digging in a Rio of Mierda (look that one up...), we opened our albergue door to a starlit sky, laid on the hill, and beheld the glory of the world. In that moment, we wanted to awake everyone in the albergue and experience this miraculous sight with one another.

Because Beauty is so much more meaningful when lived together.

My love and desire for community was at its best while arriving to Santiago on my birthday. Shortly after, I was sung Happy Birthday in 10 different languages, toasted with drinks all night, showered with gifts and cards from these people I had only known for 11 days.  

The truth is: It was never meant to be a solo journey. We were made for Community... to celebrate with one another, to pick each other up in the challenges, to offer a word of loving advice, and to discover who each other are in the process. To step alongside one another either for a short time or forever. These friends have defined my Camino life... the comfort of dinners with them each night, jokes along the trail, stops at cafes, hilarious language barriers, and hammock heart talks in the afternoon is something I will forever carry with me. I love these people with a deep, wide, open heart... and THEY have defined my experience more than anything else. 

If the Camino is a representation of life in any way, it´s that life is about People.

And on our final day of walking to Finisterre - as if my weakness wasn´t entirely exposed - I had four new blisters appear, which made the last day the hardest walk of the entire journey. In the final kilometers, I took a tumble down the mountainside, wiped the blood from my knees, and argued with God screaming: ¨It´s my last day! Why is this happening now?!¨ I remembered that first day- bounding up the mountain with strength and speed. What happened?! After 32 days of walking and 800km´s later I now stumbled down the stony hillside?! I looked up to find my dear Czech friend Katrina, offering me her hand and bringing me to my feet. I will never forget her kind eyes looking into mine saying, ¨Rebecca, maybe God wants you to finish the Camino weak.¨

There was no other choice. It was clear. 

There is strength in weakness. 

There is beauty in needing people and reaching out your hands for help. 

We weren´t made to walk alone.

In those last few walking moments together before reaching Santiago de Compostela, our conversation often turned to what life looks like after this journey... Are there words to describe it? We agreed that this 5 week sacred pilgrimage, life-giving walk, grueling challenge, and eye-opening community cannot be summed up in any amount of words... no matter how beautiful or transparent or honest or heartfelt. It is a journey that takes on different forms and phases as you walk. When I look to the beginning, I remember the initial excitement with those first friends, I remember the intrigue with the the Camino lifestyle and the non-stop, photo-taking of incredible views.... and it feels like a completely different Camino from what it evolved into for me. Now I know that the Camino - just like life - is ever and only about people. Hearing their stories, investing in their life, and loving well. 

Which is exactly the Camino I will continue to walk as I return to Chicago tomorrow. I am thankful to have best friends on the other side... and excitedly await the hugs and stories to unravel in the land of Free Refills and Peanut Butter. Sigh. Tomorrow. The true Camino starts.

On Returning.

After reaching the peak of the Pyrenees that first day of the Camino, I picked up a stone with the intention of carrying it the whole way and dropping it at the cathedral in Santiago. Over and over again I found myself in sacred moments of walking as I clutched this stone in hand, praying for God´s provision, His comfort, His voice, and His love. But upon arrival to Santiago, my spiritual moment fell by the wayside with the adrenaline momentum of Finishing. I figured I would toss my rock into the sea of Finisterre after the next 3 day walk to the epic Pilgrim Lighthouse. It was only today, after discarding leftover shampoo and toothpaste, that I uncovered the stone tucked away at the bottom of my pack. I felt nothing but sheer disappointment in carelessly losing my long-awaited surrender... but then I realized perhaps there´s a reason I still carry the stone.

With the respected siestas, midnight dinners, 1 euro vino tintos, and Spanish spoken all around me these past two days, I have been able to slightly maintain the flavor of the Camino even while removed from it. But today I feel the impending weight of re-entering Life After The Camino as I head home tomorrow. Although I couldn´t always directly point to what the experience has meant to me these past few weeks... I know that the mirror of who I am now and how the Camino has changed me can only be reflected upon the Return.

And so, I carry this stone with me back to Chicago... as the true Camino of life starts when I return home.

Before Santiago

On Wednesday morning, I will turn 27 as we walk into Santiago at sunrise to finish this journey of 780km, 30 days, 5 blisters, 1 lost phone, and countless cafes later. I´ve marveled at ancient churches, fallen down mudslides, chanted hymns with nuns, spoken multiple languages over dinners with strangers, crossed the desert, gazed at the stars, slept in remote Spanish churches, fiesta-ed until early morning, endured nights of snoring pilgrims, gotten lost in fields for hours, bathed under bridges, & shared wine in the street with locals... It started with anxious excitement and the joy of a new adventure, then I was hit with the pain of death and grief... I walked through solitude and loneliness in the meseta, then experienced the beauty of community and dear friendship, God felt so near and with me, then it was crying out to Him for help and trust and presence... it was Spanish romance and sparks, then a hole in my heart of goodbye... It has been one foot in front of the other, one step at a time, little by little in the process of what seemed like an impossible pilgrimage.. and now it´s arriving to the cathedral for mass in Santiago as we reach our final destination.

When it´s all finished, I will cry not because of the beauty of another Spanish city or the majesty of the cathedral... It´s not because the end is reached and all is accomplished. Tears will float from my eyes because of every moment of challenge & beauty God has taken me through the past 5 weeks as I trust Him for a bed each night, a sip of water during the day, a cool breeze across my face, and a friend to make the walk that much faster. When I feel the weight of making my own decisions and attempting to be in control, I remember that He has always provided for me when I trust Him to bring the very best. And after walking for 8hrs a day carrying nothing but 2 outfits in my pack, headlamp, a canteen of water, my journal, extra sandals, hiking boots, and my walking stick, I now understand just a little more clearer that He truly is all I need. Just as He has carried me through this Camino, He will lead me through life after this journey because He is and forever always Enough.


¨Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us. It isn´t the burdens of today that drive men mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today. So stop pàcing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice-cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.¨

:: Essay by Robert J Hastings

Each Day

It's true that I am most inspired by early mornings... So when I awake around 5:30am to set out for another day through the Meseta, I begin to recount the  moments of beauty I hope to never forget.

(And then later, when I'm not so inspired, I return to this list...)

The brightness of the moon shining over the path greeting hazy-eyed pilgrims who search for yellow arrows to follow on the day's course

The  hushed chatter of strangers becoming friends in their own language amidst the overhang of trees and silent path before them

The first sign of a steeple indicating the next village as it slowly appears in the distance over the hill. Upon spotting it, thoughts begin to brim with the hope of a cafe, bocadillo, or jamon for hungry & tired pilgrims

The rhythm of my stick and the crunch of the ground as I walk solo

The music of birds outside my window as a cool breeze floats in during a hard-earned siesta

The long pilgrim afternoons bringing Camino walkers together in the courtyard of an albergue as we share the day's thoughts over San Miguels, vino tinto, and games of poker

Exploring Spanish towns, fiesta-ing, talking to locals, running into recognized peregrinos on the streets as if you live there

The relief and exhaustion that comes when you take off your boots, topple onto your bunk, and slowly move towards a cold shower

The sweat and the pain and the kilometers unending

The landscape of vineyards and mountains against hues of red & purple in the morning sky. Pops of blue and purple flowers like a blanket across the earth 

Tired pilgrims awaking to alarms as they shuffle with headlamps to pack it all up again, to walk again, to desayuno again, to head straight on to Santiago again and again and again...

Even Here

It's been said that "El Camino es magico," which was continually confirmed through the mountainous landscape of the Pyrenees and the unending grape vines of vineyards... it felt true while picking cherries and blackberries off trees for lunch and capturing unending fields of flowers in film. 

But as the terrain changes from green to brown and the mountains flatten to plains of rocky sand, each step is another painful reminder of how far Santiago feels. I have begun to countdown to the inevitable beer and nap at an albergue after another 25-30k daily through what could be cornfields of Iowa.

the beauty of the Pyrenees : Day One.

It's no coincidence that halfway through the Camino you are no longer lingering in the initial beauty of luscious greenery, rather walking through the literal desert... the dreaded "meseta" where water is scarce and shade is non-existent. Sleepy pilgrims' alarms ring around 4am as they race to hit the path before the blazing sun rises high to scorch the neck as we walk west-ward. The once peaceful path now feels like a competitive drive towards shelter to secure a bed in a town ahead. Pilgrims are desperate to escape this desert field by knocking out a 40k day with no breaks or sending their bags ahead via bus.

... the landscape these days.

So while I fight the 4 painful blisters that reside on each foot, readjust my pack to lift off sore shoulders, take off my 2 pairs of socks to stretch every 2hrs, and re-plant my stick into the road before me, I try to remember why I am here. I pray and I write and I sing and I play games with others in distraction from the obvious misery of heat and sand. This part of the path has also been the most solitary... because I guess that's what it truly means to go through the desert.

It is so comforting when the first sign of a town appears through the fields of brown.

I clearly responded in shock the other day when a pilgrim friend told me La Meseta is his favorite part of the Way, as this is the stint that feels "the most spiritual." He went on to say that when we are free from the distractions of our surroundings or other people, we have only one choice - to draw near to God. In taking his words to heart, I know I do not walk through the desert alone... God is here with me still - and what a picture I hope to carry into life as I walk in days beyond the Camino. 

For now it feels tiring and unending, but I know arrival is impossible unless I go through even the lonely and hard times. It's in these moments that faith is tested... It's in the challenge of going forward in the difficulty, not just the lovely, where we choose to trust and say God is enough. Although I fail at this over and over again, the desert has provided many faith-building moments to search and believe He is here.

the guideposts that mark my way

Once I arrive in Santiago, I'll know that this part of the pilgrimage was worth it... But for now it's still a matter of convincing myself that's true each morning as I lace up the boots and continue to walk with one foot in front of the other.