I needed to be first. I was up against some unseen challenger that was always one step ahead. I needed to be the first to step foot in Santiago and I needed to do it right. No cabs. No trains. Only walking.
The Camino is a group of walking trails that are located throughout Portugal, Spain, and France. Normally, pilgrims (people walking the Camino) embark on this journey in order to find themselves and discover their purpose in this world. They aren’t easy trails, especially when you’re walking them in the cold/rainy season and after you’ve been traveling the world for the past 10 months with no real break.
We did the trail headed towards Santiago, Spain and had hopes that we’d meet people and talk to them about Jesus. Which was short lived because we saw no one. On the trail, it was only me and my group walking. Though we weren’t meeting people and evangelizing, Jesus was still working in and through all of us. But I heard nothing and wasn’t willing to listen.
Why?
I needed to be first. I was up against some unseen challenger that was always one step ahead. I needed to be the first to step foot in Santiago and I needed to do it right. No cabs. No trains. Only walking. I walked through the pain and said “I’d crawl there if I had to”. It was as if we were in a race and I was up against the world. With that mentality, you’re willing to push through twenty miles a day walking on cobblestone and up a mountain. But what was I trying to prove? Who was I trying to beat?
I was in a fight against myself.
I needed to prove to myself that I have fight, a fire, in me. I needed to test my steel against an opponent greater than I am. I needed to feel the thrill of victory and accomplishment as I reached the final destination. Which became the theme of my race: I have to prove myself. Why isn’t it enough to believe that God says I’m new and not the boy I was before? Because I hated who I was and needed to do everything I could to prove that he was gone. I needed to see the proof. He gave up and I never will.
[Don’t get me wrong, it is good and healthy for a man to have fight and a fire inside of him. It’s what he will need in order to survive and make it in this world. But he needs to know what/who he’s fighting for and what/who he’s fighting against. If he doesn’t know that, he’ll fight and burn everyone around him.]
I thought God wasn’t teaching me anything on the trail. That He was speaking and teaching everyone but me. I asked why He wasn’t speaking to me and He showed me the foolishness of my mindset. I was trying to prove myself to someone who’s dead. The old guy is gone and yet there was a part of me that was under his thumb. After that, He put me in situations that would destroy my pride.
The first was the other day walking through a downpour of rain. Our rain gear wasn’t working so we were soaked through and through. We passed a cafe that was filled with other pilgrims waiting out the rain. We kept pressing on. I knew God was telling me to turn the group around, go back to the cafe, and rest while waiting for a taxi to take us to the city we were walking to. It took much longer than I’m willing to admit for me to bring it up to the group. I said it through gritted teeth. Me of all people asking to rest and take a taxi. Talk about a pride shattering moment. But the focus wasn’t on me. Everyone in the group was hurt with one injury or another and wasn’t willing to admit needing rest. The second situation was that night.
We were less than fifty miles from Santiago which means we were at the hundred or so mile mark. That’s when God told me to follow Tyler. He was contemplating on taking a train to Santiago because he injured his foot to the point where he couldn’t walk on it. So, he would walk some and then take a taxi to the city we were headed to and would meet us there. Again, I wanted to ignore it but decided to be obedient anyways. The next morning I was on a train to Santiago.
I didn’t feel defeated. I no longer felt like I had to prove myself. I felt peace. I was exactly where I needed to be. I was happy to be out of the rain and even happier to be there for my friend.
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
