Standing in front of the Cathedral de Compostela
L to R: Me, Keisha and Dr. Tina
“Pilgrimage invites us to allow all of life to become an intentional journey, even in the midst of
loss and grief. It is a call to find God in new ways.”-Christine Val Leis Painter
217,287. These are the number of steps that chronicle my eight-day journey walking the Camino de Santiago this past August. I had never heard of the Camino until it was presented to me by the chaplains at Fuller Theological Seminary where I am in my third year in the MDiv program. In fact, the only pilgrimages of which I was aware were to Jerusalem and Mecca.
The chaplains explained that the Camino is a holy pilgrimage that stretches across Europe to the tomb of St. James, the disciple, in Santiago de Compostela. Our goal was to walk the Portuguese branch of the Camino from Tui in Portugal into Spain via Porrino, Arcade, Pontevedra, Caldas de Reis, Padron and Santiago. Our purpose would be to take in the experience of walking this sacred path as pilgrims—the term used to describe those who walk the Camino—to deepen our faith through inner reflection, silence, holy listening, personal healing, prayerful contemplation, and communion with God. I knew immediately that the Holy Spirit had extended an invitation and that the Lord was calling me to the Camino.
In early August, armed with hiking poles, two pair of hiking boots, tons of compression socks, weather-appropriate clothing, a wide variety of foot blister pads and my Bible, I boarded a flight from JFK to Tui (with a quick stop in Madrid and Marrakech).
Walking “The Way”
I began my daily treks with my Fuller cohort, but soon our individual paces resulted in the parting of ways. This made the Camino a solitary journey. The only guide I had was either a yellow and blue arrow or seashell imprinted on stone monuments or spraypainted on the ground every two to three miles that pointed “the way” I was to walk.
Wearing two different pair of shoes to help with the blisters.
The Camino was not for the faint of heart. On average, we walked 12-15 miles each day along highways, on wooded trails, in communities, past farmland and through acres of vineyards. Sometimes I encountered pilgrims from other parts of the world, however, most of the time, I walked alone for hours. I traveled north, which meant the majority of the pilgrimage was uphill, steep inclines that sometimes took my breath away.
The Holy Spirit established our mode of communication on the first day. God revealed his presence every time I heard or saw water. I am with you. You are not alone. Don’t be afraid. Breathe, Candance. In the rain, God was with me. During the heat of day, God was with me. When I felt lost, God was with me. All I had to do was be in the moment to hear God say, I am here. I am here. You are not alone.
Water connecting me with the Holy Spirit
I traveled to Spain wearing a cloak of grief. In the early part of the year, my father died and another friend was murdered in the school shooting in my hometown of Nashville. I wore the mask and told everyone I was well, when, in all actuality, I was falling apart on the inside. That was until God called me to pilgrimage in Spain. I saw the Lord in everything—along cobblestone roads, walking past canopies of grapes, stopping to take pictures of lemon and lime trees, listening for the sounds of water. God’s presence was tangible. He reveled himself to me. He walked with me. He talked with me. He guided me. He admonished me. He encouraged me. He let me vent and cry out in rage. He poured into me. He made me stop by the still waters and replenished me. He took my cloak of grief and replaced it with joy.
The morning of my solo trek
On Sunday, August 6, 2023, after a 94-mile sojourn over eight days, I stood in front of the Cathedral de Santiago de Compostela with tears streaming down my cheeks. I had blisters on every toe, braces wrapped around both knees, was slightly sunburned and a little dehydrated, but none of that mattered. What I gained was a personal understanding of Isaiah 43:18 “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?” The Lord did a “new thing” within me when he unlocked joy that I had not experienced in years. For those eight days, the Camino was the real world. Everything I experienced—the exhaustion and the exhilaration, the arduous journey and the euphoria, the pain and the pleasure—happened. It was real and God was with me orchestrating the most beautiful experience of my life.
