Part 2: Lessons I Learned From The Camino

It Helps to Believe in God’s Angels

We were near the half way point of our pilgrimage along The Way (or the Camino de Santiago) in Galacia, Spain. The quarter-sized blister on my right heel constantly reminded me it was there and the ache in my bones was gnawing and deep – a kind of deep I had never experienced before. It felt as if my bones were moaning. The pain was not muscular strain or a symptom of my lack of endurance, but something more I could not identify. This added emotional fatigue to my physical pain. One step in front of the other was my only choice unless I wanted to give up and ride the bus.

No way! Not this pilgrim. I traveled to Spain with my husband to experience this spiritual journey and I was going to do just that!

Ken and I started the first few mornings hiking together, but his pace was much faster than mine especially given his long legs and my physical state. As the days progressed, I urged him to go ahead so he could move at a more gratifying and natural cadence. This provided the opportunity for each of us to walk parts of the Camino with our new friends from our small tour group. Ken usually hiked the morning with Clay since their pace was similar. I often hiked with Cathy, since she bravely traveled solo on this journey and had no built-in hiking partner. Her life story was humbling to my heart. I cherished the time I got to spend with her along The Way. Experiencing different parts of the journey each day with a new friend who willingly shared their own significant story became a special treasure.

Each morning our guides mapped out what we should expect from the miles ahead. They plotted our touch-point-stops so they could account for us throughout the day. The group was good about keeping a mindful pace that allowed us to meet for lunch and finish within thirty minutes to an hour of one another at the end of the day. I am not sure when or why my evaluation of this mapped-out journey shifted, but somehow my vision that I had created in my mind of this spiritual trek was not matching the reality of it. My focus was clearly clouded.

The morning instructions and evening recaps from our guides seemed laborious. The history lesson at lunch BEFORE eating a crumb of food after eight to ten miles of hiking was an impediment for re-balancing my blood sugar. The pain was mounting in my body and the circles and bags under my eyes were becoming more exaggerated. The hard mattresses and dark, dank rooms were tiring and void of the joy and comfort that I anticipated at the outset. The mostly gray skies that threatened of rain daily dampened my outlook.

These things consumed me.

Did I love the people who were gathered around us as new friends? Yes! Was the food excellent and plentiful? Absolutely! Were our guides lovely and helpful? Of course. Was my husband loving me through my struggles? Hmmm. . . ? That peach umbrella protection he offered day one of our quest seemed now to be a great emotional distance away.

I was pretty sure my inner pouting was making its way out to the visible side of me. Much to his credit, Ken and I began the afternoon part of our hike together. I fought desperately to suppress my misery. He was rightfully sick and tired of my whiny presence and for remaining slightly ahead of me on the trail, yet I could not stand staring at his back any longer.

I stopped and stomped and proclaimed that this whole adventure seemed to be about reaching target after target, destination after destination, and hard bed after hard bed. Nothing about it was feeling very spiritual to me! Ken stopped. He turned and looked at me. I continued by barely muttering that I had carried my mother’s kite in my backpack for days and it seemed we never slowed long enough to fly it. It seemed we never paused long enough to notice the wind.

At this point, I was tired of my own damn self.

It was time for Ken to respond. He walked back toward me. He reached for my hand and said, “Let’s step off the trail and fly the kite.” A faint “Really?” came out of me. “Really.” he said. We stepped off the trail. Tears were just under the surface of my suffering fighting for my joy to win. I told Ken that I loved his invitation but I did not think the moment was right because the breeze was too inconsistent to take the kite up; he insisted that we try. . . so we did.

The kite rose and then swiftly fell. At that very moment I heard a voice behind me saying, “Give it more string, it will fly.” Who is that? Those are words my mother would say. Again, “Give it more string.” The next thing I knew, this man who seemed to have a lifetime of belongings on his back exited the Camino to help me and my mother’s kite seek out freedom and the breeze. He picked up the kite. He opened its wind channels and he gently encouraged me again to give it more string as he held it above his head.

We both watched it take flight. My heart took flight with it. Unbeknownst to me, my husband was yards away shooting a video with his phone. He captured the encounter with this stranger from the Camino. The encounter that took place just after I had made the proclamation that there seemed to be no room in this hike for my spiritual journey.

My husband, though tired of my disposition, led me off the beaten path to encourage me to take the time to experience God’s presence. And what did God do? He sent an angel to speak familiar words that I have heard many times from my mother. That angel had earbuds around his neck with music playing from them. The tune was captured on my husband’s video. The song was FREEBIRD by Lynyrd Skynyrd. That moment could not have been more masterfully orchestrated.

God sent me an angel when I finally exclaimed, “I want this to be a spiritual journey!” He reminded me that it was up to me to ask and to seek that adventure. He reminded me, “Robin, let it go. Don’t hold on so tightly. Freedom comes when you stop controlling every outcome.” I was indeed holding onto so many things that I needed to release like believing my expectations were the only right way for this pilgrimage to be significant or godly. I needed to look up and I needed to step off path and snap myself out of the self-centered place I had allowed myself to go. I was reminded to look around me and to see the beautiful gifts He has waiting for me. When I ask, seek, and notice, he answers me.

As I made room for gratitude to grow within me more miraculous encounters followed throughout that day and the days after.

Imagine that.

LESSON 2:

My suffering can block my view of joy. Waiting for my spiritual journey to happen to me only means I miss the signs along the way. I have to be an active participant by surrendering my frailties and trusting in God’s help. Of course, believing that He sends me an angel now and then doesn’t hurt.

I hope you will stay tuned for Lesson 3 to follow. I look forward to hearing from you in comments below!

Surprised by LOVE

As many of you know, my “Word” of the year begins in August after I travel to Vista, California.  My word journey began by “accident” as far as I knew.

So this is my 7th year to choose a guiding word….  or should I say the word chooses me!

Crazy really.

The past two years, unlike the previous five, I have had a word in mind before I arrived in Vista.  I had been talking to God for several weeks about this year’s word since I had a preconceived notion of what it might be.  I asked God to make the “right word” really clear for me so that his direction would trump my own.

As usual, I called my friend, Joy in Vista a few weeks in advance of my arrival.  You see, it is at Joy’s booth at the Vista Farmer’s Market where I retrieve my word.

When I called Joy to secure our annual Saturday connection, her response left me silent for moments… Joy’s news was devastating to me.  She was not going to be at the market!   I thought, WHAT??  How could it be?  WOULD I HAVE HAVE TO GO WORDLESS?

Joy stepped into the silence (though the panic in my mind was loud and clear) with what she expected would be reassuring words.  “Not to worry. I have already put your word aside for you. I feel strongly about this word for you.”  EXCUSE ME?, I thought. How could you possibly know what word to choose?  This journey is personal between me and God! Read more →

LESSONS I’VE LEARNED FROM MY DAD

Today is my Father’s birthday.  I miss him deeply.  I was blessed to have written and read the “What I Learned from My Dad” to him on this very day last year.  I added some writing around the tribute to share as eleven days later as he unexpectedly passed on from this world to be with our great Father in heaven.  This is what I shared that day in May 20114…

My precious Dad moved on to heaven a week and a half ago. I miss him deeply. I know we all have special loves in our lives. My father was and always will be one of those for me. It is from experience I give YOU these words of encouragement. If there are words unspoken you wish you could speak to those still in your life whom you love in a special way – speak them. If there are loved ones who are no longer here on this earth yet you have words still to say – say them. God is an awesome messenger.

Just 3 weeks ago we were gathered for Dad’s 87th birthday. I wrote something special to read to him at his party. I am grateful these words were shared at a time I could feel his hand squeezing mine and could see the loving expression in his eyes.

LESSONS I HAVE LEARNED FROM MY DAD

By Your Devoted Daughter, Robin

copyright©Robin W Hurst 2014

I’ve learned to love with a generous heart instead of judge with a limited perspective.

I’ve learned to be kind because the world needs more kindness.

I’ve learned to ask questions about God as a way to grow my faith.

I’ve learned to be patient rather than quick to respond without thoughtfulness.

I’ve learned caring for others matters. Read more →

I Give to You…OUR SONG of the Year

This Valentine’s month I share a piece of my heart with you – Our “Song of the Year”.

Do you ever feel like you just don’t need any more “boxes wrapped in strings, or designer love and empty things” as the Goo Goo Dolls say so eloquently in their song Better Days?

Well, the past few years my husband and I have felt this to be more and more true for us. So, one of the most rewarding gifts we have shared has been a song to call our own. A song to hold, to share, to revisit all year.

Some years we slow dance when I unveil the song. Last year my family participated in the gift and we did a “mini family flash mob!” It was hilarious and touching at the same time. This year it was more simple and more private. Read more →

I Repeat…My word of the Year is Patience

I repeat… “My Word of the Year is Patience.”

Have you noticed that “New Year’s Resolutions, Revolutions, guiding words, goals and hopes” topics are resonating out there? Each year, in August (since 2007), I’ve identify a word of the year to live by. Since it is now a new calendar Year it seems appropriate to re-post my “Word of the Year” blog.

I hope you enjoy a little patience as you read on again, or for the first time.

If you were to choose a word of the year to live by, remain rooted in, would “PATIENCE” ever come to mind? Me neither! But this is how this true story unfolds….

My husband, Ken, and I travel every year back to the Vista Farmer’s Market (VFM) in California. (see other blogs: Back and Forth to Vista) This year was not exception. So, we arrive at the VFM and per our usual Em-O, Ken bee lines to the breakfast tamale booth as I continue to seek Joy – that would be my dear friend Joy Blessman and her booth filled with INTENTIONS. For the past 7 years I have returned to Vista to discover my guiding word for the year. I find the word or more like it the word finds me.Then I choose to live in it, by it and sometimes through it for the entire year. The word serves as an area of growth in my life and my faith. Read more →

Risking to Really Live!

“If we risk nothing, we risk everything.” Geena Davis

Words are never sufficient when we lose those we love. My heart goes out to all of you who understand this. A year ago, we lost my beautiful and courageous niece, Samantha, my sister’s daughter. Sam was 23 years and 5 days old. She stepped out in risk… a lot. Sam loved mischief. She loved adventure. She loved deeply, especially little children. She risked using her voice for others and for advancing a worthy cause or project. I learned so much from this young, yet very wise soul. I understand that losing those we love is part of life, but it is difficult to accept. It is painful. Grief from our loss lingers within us. I am also learning that grief is part of healing.

It is becoming clear that I must risk to really live which in turn honors what Samantha taught me about living. I am learning to risk through stepping out in adventure. I am: risking to stand up for what I believe… risking to support others…. risking to share my faith… risking to speak words of love over judgment, perfection or self-doubt… risking to take on physical challenges when my mind or fear would prefer to stop me. Read more →

Un-ZIP Your Courage!

I have a fear of heights. It’s not exactly the height I fear necessarily but the falling from up high. Looking down makes my stomach feel like swirling butterflies. Therefore, I probably avoid situations of significant height unless I have solid ground under my feet so I can enjoy the vast vista. Therefore, when I signed up to “BE BRAVE” recently, as part of a conference in Nebraska, jumping off a 55 foot platform to ZIP LINE and walking swinging wooden planks 45 feet above the ground was what I had in mind to expand my comfort zone. I guess that is why they say “EXPANDING” your comfort zone. Read more →

Pause Creates New Space

One of my favorite quotes, “Create the space and a bigger life happens” is by Alysia Reiner. The first time I read this quote I felt the need to de-clutter my physical space. You know, purge and eliminate piles. It seemed I was skilled at creating little piles in every room – and my desk… forget about it.
So, I began the task of eliminating piles to create more physical and visual space. With each step toward “less is more” I found a desire to “create space” in other areas as space can be physical space, calendar space, mental space or soul space. I was discovering that in all of these spaces “clutter happens.” Read more →

I Need a Sign… A Phone Call

I Need a Sign… Part III of A Skywriter, A Billboard, A Bumper Sticker and A Phone Call

This time God dialed in through A PHONE CALL…

It was March 2011 about a year after I had the privilege of presenting my very first Women’s retreat. I set this goal, dream actually, in 2008, to help other women find joy, purpose and fulfillment. THIS, I believed would be my mission forward. This vision was rooted in my faith. I hoped that through this retreat process and the sharing of my own life stories others would see God and all his goodness.

In August of 2009, my friend Nancy and I were sitting on a balcony overlooking the San Diego harbor sipping a glass of Chardonnay. Nancy looked at me and said with direct inquisition, “So, Rob, you have been talking about this retreat stuff for a while now, when is the first one going to take place?” I understood. Dreams are good. They set direction and focus to our goals, but it was up to me to set a concrete date to my plan in order to advance the dream. Nancy was right. Together we set a date and agreed the first retreat would take place in Nancy’s retreat-like living room. There was new fire within me to complete the itinerary for the 2-day event. All my focus was directed toward making that dream come alive. Read more →

A Billboard, a Bumper Sticker…

Part II of – I need a sign…

A Skywriter, a Billboard, a Bumper Sticker and a Phone Call…

Sometimes it is easy to write things off to coincidence and other times it’s just impossible to do so. Sometimes the signs are so loud and clear that hope and reassurance fill my heart. As I continue to follow my life path it’s nearly impossible for me to ignore the signs that are placed in front of me.

My Dad has always possessed a very special part of my heart. My Dad practiced medicine in the times when house calls were still made. In fact, he would often travel on his bike or a scooter with his black crocodile medical bag in tow. He was always ready, always willing and always filled with a guiding spirit of care. My Dad truly has a servant heart.

There was one thing about my Dad that made me pause. I was fearful of that he doubted faith and God. While that doubt was easy to understand, it was difficult for me to accept. I believe that Heaven is for real and I wanted my Dad to believe that too.

A few years ago, I discovered the book, Faith and Doubt by John Ortberg. It was reassuring to see the words together. I planned to gift this book to my Dad for his 82^nd birthday. I wanted to write a dedication in it for him, but I was struggling for just the right message. After all, what would he think about receiving a book about faith from his daughter? What would he say? Would he reject it? Would he be offended by it? What would my mother think about it? Read more →