Serving One Another

We’ve been pilgrims for two days in Spain. In that time, we’ve taken 72,645 steps, climbed the equivalent of 446 flights of stairs and walked 35.2 miles. We’d be lying if we said we weren’t slowing down. Or that we weren’t tired, or that our feet, joints, and shoulders don’t ache. But the beauty of what’s happening on the Camino is that we’re not leading with that. The unofficial, unspoken theme for the day: despite. We’ve encouraged despite our own pain. We’ve served despite our weariness. We’ve supported and been honest despite the work that it takes.

If you weren’t proud of your loved ones before...I promise you would be now. The selflessness that has permeated is rich. And though we didn’t set out on the Camino to serve, though this Discovery experience is unique in that way, service is what’s happening. When one takes another’s bag for a stretch to lighten their load, we’re serving. When one slows to be present with another who is struggling, we’re serving. When one steps away from a meal to give company to someone who needs it, we’re serving. When we love when it’s the hardest, we’re serving.

This group is doing the difficult. In every way. They’re stepping forward, stepping up and stepping in - without complaint and from a place of honest humility, grace, and willingness. From step one to step 30,000.

Today began with a late start in the hills above Deba. We knew it would be tough, and it was. But we had sunshine, ocean views, thick foliage, and eucalyptus groves. The miles, we’ve found, have a way of melting away when you spend them in community with others. But the rest of the time, when we’re alone in silence walking, praising, wrestling, seeking, asking and thanking the God who calls us His, the miles are...different. Hard, because that’s where the growth happens, and because spiritual growth is a discipline that takes work. Those miles are so important.

We stopped for a late lunch in a small town along the way, then walked three more hours before arriving at the most impressive and peaceful monastery. We’re tucked in now, thinking about the steps, the rain on the window, the words you all shared in your letters, and the truths God says about us that we know to be true...and are hoping to soon believe.

Goodnight home, we love you.

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