A Fire Hose of Living Water

I am so unbelievably and madly in love with Jesus today, it’s not even funny.

Okay, well, maybe it’s a little funny because it’s probably not every day you read a sentence like that. But it’s true! There’s just no other way to say it. I am so amazed by him and love him so much, I had to write a blog about it.

Doesn’t his forgiveness and mercy and grace and love and sacrifice just blow you away sometimes?? Last Sunday, I heard a pastor say that there are times when he is so blown away by Jesus’ love that he imagines he’s like a kid who goes up to a fire hose to get a drink of water, and all of a sudden the fire fighters turn on the water full blast and the kid is blown completely back by the power of the water. He’s shot straight back, with his arms and legs dangling in front of him and a look of complete shock is on his face.

That is precisely how I feel today.

But that is not how I felt on Monday. Oh no. Monday was a humbling, tough day.

Last Monday, I was reminded of my humanness. Someone sat me down and explained to me that I wasn’t doing certain things well enough, and I needed to do better.

My first reaction upon hearing this was to be defensive. I wanted to yell, “I am too doing well enough!” I wanted to list all the things I did well and compare it to others. But, deep down, I knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. And, even more humbling, I knew this person spoke the truth. I really wasn’t doing well enough. I really did need to do better.

It took a few days for me to let go of my pride. During that time I tried to remain positive, but I struggled. You see, in recent months, I feel God has really been challenging me to “serve without complaint” and to be “joyful and flexible” in all things. This is something I struggle with on normal days, much less on days when I feel challenged.

But God’s mercy is limitless. He is gentle and kind and ever faithful. He knows when we struggle. He is ALWAYS there for us when we struggle. In addition to this steadfast love, he loves us in other ways as well. Specifically, God loves us so much that he will do what he can to improve us and make us the very best possible version of ourselves, so that we might better glorify him.

And that is what blows me away:

First, God created each of us, just as we are. (God created me and my super sensitive heart.)

Second, he loves us despite our weaknesses. (God loves me despite my unjustified pride and anger.)

Third, he loves us so much, he wants to improve us. Instead of giving up on us, he gives us new opportunities to try, try again. (God loves me so much that he wants to teach me how to live and serve without complaint, and, in love, he will continue to provide opportunities to learn this.)

Fourth, and most importantly, God loves us so much, he sacrificed his son for us, so that we might have a relationship with him, and have eternal life. (John 3:16)

Completely. Blown. Away. And totally in love with Jesus for his willingness to die for me, so that I might have eternal life. So that I might know Him. So that, in love, I might learn to be the best possible version of myself, and therefore better glorify the God who loves me so.

May we all go for a drink of water, and receive a fountain (or fire hose) of Jesus’ living water today. (John 4:4-14)

Blessings,
Luci

The Camino in Chicago?

The other day, I was walking to work and out of the corner of my eye I saw the familiar blue and yellow scallop shell symbol of the Camino.  Surprised, I looked up and saw that it was part of a large ad for Spain and the Camino in downtown Chicago:

Ad for the Camino in downtown Chicago

I believe I actually exclaimed, “No Way!” – much to the amusement of those walking past – and then proceeded to take a picture.

Previously, I had written about the “Camino Memory Path” and how random things – sights, sounds, smells – can bring to mind a montage of Camino memories so piercing that it usually takes a deep breath and shake of the head to remember where I am, what I am doing, and where I am going. The above sign is an example of one of those triggers. For the briefest of moments, when I saw that scallop shell, I wasn’t in downtown Chicago. Rather, I was in Pamplona or Burgos or Leon, making my way through a city, guided only by the symbol of a thousand-year old pilgrimage.

It’s been a year and a half since I walked the Camino, and still it is with me. I can’t tell you how much I love that. I didn’t realize the Camino would turn out to be the long-term investment that it has, but it continues to give back: through confidence, through faith, and through countless memories.

This Blog

I’ve been giving some thought to this blog.

With the end of the Camino, and the return to a full-time job, my blog has suffered from my lack of attention. But not lack of love.

I feel grateful for the memories and photos stored on these virtual pages. I love that on any given day, I can go to this website and click on a date from my pilgrimage and immediately be drawn right back onto the Camino path. In addition, I appreciate the outlet this blog has provided as I work through thoughts on faith, life, and vision loss.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s too much, having a blog that talks about such specific and different topics – the Camino, my faith, my vision loss, etc. – all in one place.  Would it be better if to have separate blogs for each category, so that people who are interested in the Camino, for example, don’t have to weed through random posts on singleness or the Advent season to get the information they want?

Perhaps…

But, thinking it through, I realize that separating these posts into their own blogs wouldn’t be true to who I am, or how I process things.  The fact is, all of these “topics” coexist within me, so why not have them coexist in one blog?

There’s probably a better way to organize it all, and maybe on some rainy day I’ll figure out a new set-up to help Camino people find Camino posts easily, while the Retinitis Pigmentosa people can go straight to my adventures with the cane.  Or maybe readers don’t mind stumbling over one to get to the other, and I should just let it all grow together, like some wild and beautiful garden.

In the end, I think it’s safe to say that I’ll keep the blog. I like having it. My posts may be scattered, and it’s anyone’s guess which topic will plant and blossom next, but that’s okay. It’s mine. That’s who I am.

Thanks for reading.

The Camino Memory Path

I’ve been thinking about the Camino a lot.

I am tempted to say, it’s abnormal how much I’ve been thinking about the Camino, but since the Camino is kind of an abnormal undertaking to begin with, who can say if the amount of afterthought is normal or not.

The point is, I’ve been thinking about the Camino.  A lot.

I was at work the other day and overheard someone speaking in French. It  reminded me of this French woman who stayed at the same alburgue in Murias de Rechivalda, and how she would say “Bonjour” to everyone with this really guttural sound, like she was trying to clear her throat or something.  Bon-JHOUR!

Which reminded me that the day we stayed at Murias de Rechivalda is the day I was really sick with stomach cramps and couldn’t walk because the pain was so bad. So we stopped at this bar, and the bartendar knew a German Reike master, who came and took me to her office, and she proceeded to do some reflexology on my feet, which was much more painful than I could ever have imagined.  At last she declared that I was “empty of energy” and needed to sleep, preferably in the sun.  So, Ann and I found a park bench and slept in the sun for an hour before deciding to stay in Murias de Rechivalda.

Which then reminded me of the other park benches and picnic tables that I utilized along the Camino for a quick naps and rest during the day, and then I rememberd the picnic area just past Logrono, next to a lake.  Despite the multitude of people out and about, enjoying the beautiful day, I had no problem falling fast asleep on a picnic bench, boots and socks off, resting my warm feet and body on the cool stone beneath.

That was the same day we ended up in Navarette. Navarette was a killer because the city is built on top of a hill, so after 13 miles on one of the hottest days in September, we found ourselves looking up at the town where we wanted to stay, facing who knows how many stone steps and a steep hill. And then when we finally arrived at the alburgue, the owner showed us to our room, which was on the top floor.  As Ann and I dragged our hot, tired bodies up the three flights of steps, the owner kept saying “Courage!”

Which makes me think of the phrase pilgrims sometimes say to each other, “Ultreya!” Which means, Courage! Specifically, I think it means “courage from God”, but I could be wrong. (Don’t tell me if I am wrong though, because I like to think that’s what it means.)

Ultreya! is what got me through my Camino. Ultreya! is what gets me through life, through faith, through all of my unknowns. Ultreya! is what I wish for every person reading this… for every person who needs to know that they can face whatever is in front of them.  COURAGE FROM GOD!

…Anyway, as I said, I think about the Camino a lot. I don’t know if it’s normal.  I don’t really care. I love that hearing someone speaking French can lead me down a path of memories and thoughts so beautiful and bittersweet that it takes a deep breath and a shake of the head to remember where I am… what I’m doing… where I’m going.

I had no idea that the Camino would continue to affect me so deeply, and in such random ways. It has almost become a game at this point, wondering what random word, or a vaguely familiar looking person or scene, might next propel me down the Camino Memory Path once again.

Don’t get me wrong… I’m thoroughly grateful for it. I love all the crazy memories that pop up, just because I’m holding something like a hard boiled egg in my hand. Boiled egg in Spanish is huevos duros, by the way, and it reminds me of the time I took a half dozen to a fancy hotel restaurant in the town of Castrojeriz and asked them if they would boil them for me while I ate dinner there………………….

But that’s a story for another time. For now, I’ll leave you with, ULTREYA! Whatever you are facing, whatever is weighing you down, may the Courage from God see you through.

Peace,
Luci

The Gift of Singleness

I’m single. And Valentine’s Day is coming up.

Normally, when these two things coincide, it makes for an interesting day: I wake up in the morning, remember that it’s Valentine’s Day, debate whether or not to wear something red, sincerely try and be happy for those who have found romantic love, and then try to ignore all the red and pink hearts and flowers and balloons around me.

In the evening, I might indulge in a Jane Austen adaptation, or some other cheesy, romantic movie, and eat an insane amount of Nestle Tollhouse chocolate chip cookie dough while lounging on my couch in my flannel pajamas.

And then comes the night. Tired from what can be an emotional day, and with visions of Mr. Darcy dancing in my head, Valentine’s night is when I really struggle. It’s when my brain kicks in, and I start questioning why I am single, wondering what life would be like if I weren’t single, and – hardest of all to admit – it is when I start blaming God for my singleness.

Doesn’t He hear my prayers? Isn’t He supposed to know my heart’s desire? How many times have I confessed to Him that my single greatest desire is to be in a committed, Christian marriage? Why wouldn’t He want that for me too?

Perhaps there is a better way to approach this “holiday.” Maybe my annual struggle doesn’t need to end so negatively? And, here’s a thought – Maybe God has it all under control anyway, and I should just give it up to Him?

A couple of weeks ago, I was reading Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, and found the answers I desired. In chapter seven, verse seven, he says, “…God gives to some the gift of marriage, and to others the gift of singleness.”

The gift of singleness.

God has given me the gift of singleness! I never thought of my singleness as a gift before.

Here I have been wishing and hoping and praying for one gift, while not realizing that God has already given me another. It gives me a whole new appreciation for being single. And now I find myself looking forward to Valentine’s Day, not just for Mr. Darcy and cookie dough, but because it is an opportunity to celebrate my singleness and to thank God for His gift.

For those of you who have found your love, I congratulate you on your own gift of marriage.

And for all of the other singletons out there, I pray that you also enjoy this Valentine’s Day, and seize the gift you have been given!

Blessings,
Luci

25 Things About My Life with RP

For those of you not on Facebook, there is currently a “meme” going around where people share 25 random facts about themselves. After writing their list, they then “tag” 25 Facebook friends, asking them to complete it as well. All in all, it is a really cool way to learn some interesting, poignant, random, and entertaining facts about your friends.

Despite being tagged, I have held off completing this task, mostly because I wasn’t sure what to say. However, today I came up with a spin on idea that makes me excited to give it a go: Instead of writing 25 random/general things about me, I have decided to write 25 specific things about my life with Retinitis Pigmentosa (RP).

25 Things About My Life with RP

1. I have lost about 75% of my vision, mostly peripheral.
2. Night blindness is one side effect of RP. I cannot see anything in the dark. If it’s pitch black out and I only have a flashlight, I can only sort of see where the small beam of light is pointed.
3. My central vision is awesome. Contacts and glasses correct my central vision to 20/40.
4. I can still read small fonts without problem, but if I have the option I will usually select a larger font.
5. RP is totally frustrating in that it is completely unpredictable. My highly trained and specialized eye doctor has no way of knowing how much vision I will retain or lose, and at what rate or speed. I was told that I might have my central vision for 10, 20, or 30 years.
6. People have asked me what my lost vision “looks” like. I tell them that my lost vision isn’t replaced with anything like blackness or darkness… it’s just like a void, or a hole, or an interruption in my visual field. Where ever there is a “hole” in my visual field, my remaining vision just sort of fades into and out of the emptiness.
7. I can only see very bright stars in places with low light pollution. One of my favorite activities is to have a friend try and point out stars for me.
8. I LOVE fireworks. I pretend they are stars.
9. Dimly-lit restaurants are an obstacle course for me. Most times I can get by with just following the waiter or companion to the table (I dodge where they dodge, I step where they step, etc.). If it’s too dark, then I’ll ask to take a friend’s arm.
10. I have had a couple of people try “test” me, to see if I am faking my vision loss.
11. I have unintentionally knocked over, or run into, the following items because of my vision loss: a chair, fire hydrant, stool, table, car, Wet Floor signs, directional signs, dogs, cats, and children.
12. Quiet, stealthy children should be encouraged to wear little, tinkling bells at all times. Either that or carry Tic-Tacs with them.
13. I am adamant about getting to movies early because I hate walking in when the theater is dark.
14. I have to sit far away from the movie screen, in order to get as much of it into my central vision as possible.
15. Bright light hurts my eyes.
16. Cloudy days can be just as bright as sunny days sometimes.
17. If I am sitting in a dark restaurant, facing a bright window, I will ask to move, or change seats with someone because it hurts my eyes to look into the bright light.
18. I prefer to sit in seats where the light is directly behind me, thus illuminating everything in front of me.
19. It takes a minute or two for my eyes to adjust if I go from dark to light, or vice versa. For this reason, I will often stop right when I walk into a building from outside. Or I will put on sunglasses right before I exit a building, if I know it is bright outside.
20. I could probably create a whole separate list of “25 things” just for my favorite “visual delights” (things that will make me stop and stare). Examples include: sunlight on water (fountains, ocean, lakes, etc.); rainbows; seeing the world from a plane; shadows; falling leaves; artwork; etc.
21. One of the most randomly specific visual delights that I can think of can be found at Jupiter’s bar in CU: the reflection of the pool table light on the wood benches is just BEAUTIFUL. I love it. It’s a rainbow of color.
22. I have a hard time not stopping and explaining to every confused person I see what RP is, and why I might need a cane to get from one location to another, but can then read a book once I get there.
23. I am still figuring out where and when I should use my cane. For now, I mostly just use it when I am alone, and/or in crowded or unfamiliar places. I definitely use it if I am alone and it’s dark.
24. I am currently struggling with when to tell prospective employers about my vision loss. Do I tell them before they offer me a job? When they offer me a job? After I am hired? Or should I stay silent?
25. My vision loss has been a HUGE blessing to me. It has led me to a wonderful relationship with God. It allows me to appreciate “visual delights.” It helps me to enjoy the small things in life.

That was more fun that I thought it would be! I hope you enjoyed reading it as well. If anyone would be interested in reading a “25 Things About the Camino de Santiago” one, let me know. Now that I have the hang of this, I’m thinking it might be fun to try again…

One Word Meme

Answer each question with only one word:

1. Your cell phone? old
2. Your significant other? unknown
3. Your hair? clean
4. Your favorite thing? Agapē
5. Your dream last night? blank
6. Your favorite drink? water
7. Your dream/goal? Agapē
8. What room you are in? den
9. Your hobby? walking
10. Your fear? fear
11. Where do you want to be in 6 years? happy
12. Where were you last night? home
13. Muffins? chocolate?
14. Wish list item? JOB
15. Where you grew up? midwest
16. Last thing you did? church
17. What are you wearing? warm
18. Your TV? new
19. Your pets? imaginary
20. Your friends? missed
21. Your life? transition
22. Your mood? thoughtful
23. Missing someone? yes
24. Car? gone
25. Something you’re not wearing? uniform
26. Your favorite store? REI
27. Your favorite color? blue
28. Last time you laughed? yesterday
29. Last time you cried? week
30. Who will resend this? unknown
31. One place that I go to over and over? God
32. One person who emails me regularly? ads
33. Favorite place to eat? Indian
34. Why did you participate in this survey? fun
35. What are you doing tonight? movie

Trying to answer with only one word was fun! Give it a try and let me know what your list looks like.

Practicing Patience

“Don’t be impatient for the Lord to act!
Travel steadily along his path.”
–Psalm 37:7

Patience. I am trying so hard to be patient. I want so much to be patient.

The Camino is over. My time of rest and reflection following the Camino is ending. I am ready to move on. I want to move on. But to what? Where?

“Show me the path where I should walk, O Lord;
Point out the right road for me to follow.”
–Psalm 25:4

Patience…

Waiting in Hopeful Anticipation

Hope. Peace. Joy. Love. . . Preparation. Anticipation. Waiting. . .
All words describing Advent season, one of my favorite times of year. This Advent, I have been spending a lot of time thinking about what it means to “wait in hopeful anticipation.”

During my post-Camino time at home, I have been feeling a little lost about what I should do next with my life. It feels counter-cultural to do so much sitting and resting and relaxing, but, at the same time, I really enjoy it. It is a wonderful and rare blessing to be given such a “time out” from the busyness of every day life.

This past weekend I took another pilgrimage of sorts, this one was by train, back to my old hometown and friends and church family. Over the course of the weekend, through wonderful conversations, I began to see that it was okay to be right where I am: waiting in hopeful anticipation.

I don’t know what I want to do next, and that is okay because I haven’t felt God give me that direction yet. Instead, what God has given me is this time of rest, this time of peace. Waiting in and of itself is an active thing, and waiting with hope, or in hopeful anticipation, of my future and the unknown is what Advent is all about.

I recently read the following on the daily devotional website “D365.org”:

As people of faith, we know that waiting is central to our journey with God. Throughout history, the faithful have had to patiently wait for the One whose sense of time is not the same as ours. Amidst our waiting, whether patiently or impatiently, we hear the reassuring words of hope from the prophet Isaiah that
God works for those who wait.
–Brian Prior, November 30, 2008, http://www.followingthestar.org/

To those of you reading this who find themselves in a similar place of unknowing and waiting, I offer you the encouragement and peace that comes with this Season of Advent:

May you dare to HOPE:

“Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.”  –Lamentations 3:21-26

May you feel the PEACE that transcends all understanding:

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”  –Philippians 4:6-7

May your heart be filled with JOY:

“The Lord is my strength and shield. I trust him with all my heart. He helps me, and my heart is filled with joy.”  –Psalm 28:7

And may you always know the LOVE of God that is yours through Jesus:

“No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.”  –Romans 8:39

When we embrace that “the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,” we are able to wait
in patient hopefulness.
–Brian Prior, December 6, 2008, http://www.followingthestar.org/

Rhythm and Repose

It’s hard to believe that a month ago today, on October 23, I arrived in Santiago de Compostela.

I miss the Camino. I miss the walking, the meditation, and the prayer. The physical pain I struggled with has faded in memory, leaving only pleasant thoughts of endless hours in deep spiritual contemplation…

I think I actually miss the meseta most… the long, shadeless stretches between towns… the sound of my step, the movement of my poles, the rhythm of the walk… all lulling me into a prayerful trance of love, peace, and joy…

Sometimes, when I close my eyes and quiet my mind, I can feel it again. I can feel the rhythm of my walk… my feet and shoulders all moving to the beat of some drum deep within me whispering: left… right… left… right…

It’s amazing how that rhythm comforts me, quickly transporting me to the spiritual calm that I now know resides within.

Not all days are rhythm and repose, however. Since I have been home, I have struggled to maintain any kind of rhythm or routine. One day slips into another and before I know it, the weekend is here again.

I thought I would love this. I thought I would love the freedom from everything, and attachment to nothing. I admit, it has been nice to have the downtime, but I am not “lurving” it. It is just “okay.” Mostly though, as the days start to blend together, I realize that life is slipping away. MY life is slipping away.

What happened to the woman who was so excited to be living THIS life? MY life? She’s still here. Somewhere.

I admit, I kind of went into a semi-coma there after returning home from the Camino. I think I just needed time to SIT. But now… now I just feel lazy. Sloth-like, you might even say.

I miss rhythm… routine… I miss having a plan, a purpose. What am I doing with my life????

This morning I had a chance to think about all of this. If I could live any kind of life, what would it look like? What are my priorities? What brings me happiness? What does my heart truly desire? What do I want more than anything else in the world? If I could create the best possible life for me, what would it look like?

The answers I came up with did not necessarily surprise me. What surprised me was my immediate excitement and willingness to make changes to achieve those goals. It was as if something finally clicked inside, and I realized that if I did X, Y, and Z, then I might actually achieve that “best life” I had dreamed about. How exciting is that?

So, I am making choices and it feels good. But what feels really good is knowing that all of these choices are leading (God-willing) to a good and happy life. My life. A life of rhythm and repose.