Dispatches Del Camino (#28)
Somewhere in the distant mountains, my wife is hiking the Camino. I should be with her, but I am here with shin-splinted legs and swollen calves.
Inspiration
Dispatches Del Camino (#27)
My taxi arrived at Ponferrada after a long, twisty, pleasant ride through the mountains. And by “pleasant” I mean that only one of three taxi passengers actually vomited. I paid our driver, then found a nearby bush where I could double over.
Gospel, or Prosperity Gospel?
Prosperity theology tells us that if we have faith (and donate to Christian ministries), we will receive financial blessings. Stop! That’s a dangerous belief!
Dispatches Del Camino (#26)
My wife and I parted in the lobby of the albergue. She was crying. It was a little-girl cry. The kind of crying you do when you don’t care who is watching you. She has never been self-conscious about her own emotions. Thank God nobody ever told this beautiful woman that it’s not dignified to cry in public.
Dispatches Del Camino (#26)
I bought this hat in my dad’s hometown, many years ago. It has always been my favorite hat. For years, it’s been my constant reminder of his beautiful and tragic life. Today, after walking 336 miles on the Camino de Santiago, I left it at the foot of a very big cross.
Dispatches Del Camino (#22)
Leòn Cathedral is among the greatest of human works in Gothic style. The church features one of the world’s largest collections of medieval stained glass windows.
Dispatches Del Camino (#21)
In today’s dispatch, Sean answers reader questions about his trek across Spain.
The Book of James: A How-to Guide for Christians
The Book of James in the New Testament is a wonderful instruction manual that explains how to implement our Christianity, even in today’s busy world.
Dispatches Del Camino (#20)
It was our first day off. We had been walking the Camino for three weeks, upwards of 18 miles per day, until our feet bear a striking resemblance to USDA-approved ground ch
Dispatches Del Camino (#19)
He was a blind man, walking the highway toward El Burgo Ranero. If he wasn’t totally blind, the sunglasses meant he was low vision. Cars shot past him as he trudged along, seemingly unaware of the vehicles.
Dispatches Del Camino De Santiago (18)
When you’re out here on the Camino de Santiago, God knows, you’re tired of walking. Tired of moving your feet. You’re not tired physically. Your body feels okay, mostly, except for the fact that everything—even the gray matter of your brain—feels like it has been drop kicked by a 19-year-old NFL draftee.
Dispatches del Camino de Santiago (#17)
A bar, somewhere in rural Spain. A rooster is crowing near the open door. Distant goats are bleating. Spanish farmers gather to chew the morning fat.
Dispatches From the Camino (#16)
We are walking the Camino de Santiago when the power goes out in Spain. At first, we do not know the power is out, of course. The only thing we notice is that our phones have quit working.
I Am the Vine
“I am the vine and you are the branches,” is a familiar scripture. What does it mean to be a part of the vine? And what does it mean to “remain” in the vine?
Dispatches Del Camino (#13)
We arrive in the city of Burgos after a 14-mile walk. Although it feels like 14 million miles. Today is hot. We are sunburned, thirsty, and our skin is covered in a fine layer of crystalized salt from evaporated sweat.
Dispatches Del Camino (#12)
You do three things on the Camino each day. You walk. You talk. You stop to pee.
Dispatches Del Camino (#9)
Six of us have fallen in together, walking side by side for the last several miles of the Camino de Santiago. We are all strangers. All pilgrims. From different nations. There is dust on our backpacks, mud on our boots, and we all smell like something a diuretic horse produced.
Dispatches Del Camino (#8)
We are walking through Navarrete on Easter Monday the moment Pope Francis dies. The bells of the massive church are ringing, non-stop. Locals are in a kind of reverential shock.
Dispatches Del Camino (7)
The woman at the hostel utters four magic words. “Si, we have beds.” This is amazing. There have been no beds in Spain for Holy Week. It’s almost Easter Sunday and we have been beggars, compelled to walk the Camino de Santiago with our hats in hand, and our hands out, looking for beds.
An Old Easter Story
When we were growing up, my brother and I never got Easter baskets. Easter meant going to church and getting new Easter clothes. Our parents (actually, we just blame Mom–sorry, Mom) wanted to instill in us that Easter was not about rabbits or chocolate eggs, but rather about the resurrection of Jesus.