Last week, a friend asked me what was the main thing I learned from my Camino experience and I didn’t hesitate with my response.
It wasn’t so much that I learned something new; it was the reinforcement of something I had learned some time ago, but I needed reminding of.
You see, when I got to Santiago de Compostela, I headed straight for the apartment that I had booked. I was tired and wet as I had been walking in the rain all day. I was also in a fair amount of pain as I had also re-triggered a stress fracture in my foot.
Because of my sore foot, I had been forwarding my backpack to my accommodation each day – just to keep some of the weight off. However, although I had arrived in Santiago, it seemed that my backpack hadn’t.
Not to worry. I asked the apartment host to contact the backpack transport company for me. (I can speak some Spanish but not fluently enough to try and go in search of a backpack). She did and they said they didn’t have it and that they hadn’t been to the hostel where I had stayed the night before in a few days. I knew that wasn’t right as they had delivered my backpack to that hostel the day before.
OK. So, I contacted the hostel to see if my backpack was still there. Nope.
So, it’s not at the hostel. It’s not with the transport company.
All my clothes, medications and toiletries were in my backpack.
For a moment, I just wanted to cry.
Just for a moment.
I realised I’d be ok. I was in a reasonably big town, I could easily buy a few things, I had insurance so I could claim everything back. It was just a bit of a hassle. Tears would just be wasted energy.
I contacted the backpack transport company myself and, in between my broken Spanish and his broken English, explained that they had in fact been to the previous hostel because they had delivered my backpack there. Lots of to-ing and fro-ing between us. Eventually, they said they’d take a look.
In the meantime, my phone battery was fast depleting. And where was my charger? In my backpack of course.
The check-in lady told me where I might find a store that sells phone accessories. So, off I went. Still tired, still wet, and still in pain.
I got lost and wandered around Santiago for over an hour. But, I did stumble across a store (not sure if it was the store I was directed to) where I could get a phone charger.
Heading back to my apartment, I got lost again. So, even more walking.
Eventually I found my street and, in the distance, what did I see? A man standing outside the shopfront of my apartment. On his shoulder – MY BACKPACK!
Using my most animated miming skills, from a block away, I waved him down, pointing at the pack, pointing at me, trying to convey that this was MINE!
He saw me. I hobbled over to him as fast as I could and gave him a big hug. I was so happy and relieved. I had all I needed again.
So, out of that experience, what was it that I needed reminding of.
Well, if I hadn’t gotten lost twice; if I hadn’t hobbled around Santiago for that exact amount of time, I would have missed the man with my backpack. (The shop was the drop-off point for the backpack and it was closed by this stage).
All of the events, painful as they were, got me to the exact right spot at the exact right time.
I needed reminding of that. To trust that everything happens exactly as it is meant to, when it is meant to.
I first learned that lesson over 10 years ago at my mother’s funeral.
You see, mum’s funeral was timed – if you’ve ever had to arrange a funeral, you would know that everything runs to a schedule. The service goes for a certain amount of time, the drive to the cemetery takes a certain amount of time, and the burial takes a certain amount of time. And a schedule is built around all of those times.
I remember standing in church getting more and more agitated because the priest had decided to do a longer service than what we had agreed. I could see the funeral directors discreetly getting on their phones to re-schedule all that had been pre-booked. I was stressing – the last thing I needed on the day of my mother’s funeral.
Eventually we left the church, drove to the cemetery, had the burial service and went to the tea rooms for refreshments.
It was there that friends of mine who couldn’t attend the church service but got to the cemetery at the original scheduled time told me that it was a good thing that we had arrived at the cemetery late.
You see, it had been raining all morning and the grave which had been dug had collapsed on itself. The diggers had finished re-digging the grave just before we had arrived.
That was the first time “I got it”. Even when things seem to be going wrong, I need to trust that things are working out exactly as they need to.
Trust. Trust that God, the universe, source – use whichever term resonates with you – has your back.
So, even when things seem to be going wrong, when you are going through painful experiences, when things aren’t going to your plan, to your expectations or to your schedule, there is a power at play that is ensuring that all things work together for your good.
