Daily Dose (Dec 3 – 6)

TUESDAY DEC 3 —

This week, we embrace (and are embraced by), the gift of hope.
And it never ceases to amaze me, the power in the temptation to search for (or pursue) what we think we need, or want, in order to be okay.
And then to see why (or wonder why) we “don’t have it”.
And then to give ourselves grief for it.
Living by the assumption that life begins only when we finally “arrive”.
One of the liberating gifts of my Camino pilgrimage has been to see the revitalizing and restorative (and often delightful) life-giving things that grow in the soil of our daily lives: Sustenance. Resilience. Serendipities. Self-Care. Yes, gifts of Grace. And yes, every gift wrapped in hope.
Hope is not a mental contrast. It’s in the dirt.
Hope is in those encounters or happenstances or occasions we may not have expected, or even noticed. And yet, we feel delighted and heartened, and we feel embraced and strengthened, to take the next step.

In response to the question, “What did you learn on your pilgrimage?”
This is unequivocal: Be gentle with yourself.
And, listen to the still small voice of Grace.
Even as I write these words, my mind goes to Mr. Rogers.
And to this scene in my memory, from the movie “Won’t you be my neighbor?”, where Fred Rogers meets Jeff Erlanger.
Jeff underwent spinal surgery at age 5, and his parents asked him what he wanted. He said he wanted to meet “Mister Rogers”.
And his wish was granted. Sitting in his wheelchair, talking with Mr. Rogers, we appreciate their heartfelt conversation, and then Mr. Rogers sings this song to Jeff.
“It’s you I like,
It’s not the things you wear,
It’s not the way you do your hair
But it’s you I like
The way you are right now,
The way down deep inside you
Not the things that hide you,
Not your toys
They’re just beside you.
But it’s you I like
Every part of you.
Your skin, your eyes, your feelings
Whether old or new
I hope that you’ll remember
Even when you’re feeling blue
That it’s you I like,
It’s you yourself
It’s you.
It’s you I like.”

Today, my invitation: Be gentle with yourself.
And listen to the still small voice of Grace.

WEDNESDAY DEC 4 —

I am writing this today on a train, from Porto to Lisbon. Train is a great way to travel.
My Camino time, is coming to an end.
I’ve just paused to reread that sentence. And, I will confess, it is a puzzling one.
Because here’s the deal… if there’s one thing I have learned from my Camino pilgrimage it is this: a pilgrimage—a journey of discovery, and uncovering, and absorbing, and growing, and forgiving, and healing—can never really come to an end.
I can tell you that my favorite lesson has been the permission to re-frame. In other words: There is no completion. There is no saying, “That’s it.”
No doubt this is the temptation with any pilgrimage, as we plan for (orchestrate, arrange, hope for) certainty. To say, “this is what I’m pursuing, and it has been a successful pursuit.” (From my own experience, we do this with prayer, worship, relationships, and even grief recovery.)
Our pilgrimage—our faith journey, our walk for emotional and spiritual growth—is about a paradigm shift. The gift is always the next step.
To be sure, there are moments of delightful celebration. There are mile markers. And there are candles to light in the Cathedral. And there are joyous shouts to the clouds.
But the powerful rebirth in any journey is that we take all of those gifts with us into the next step. And then, into the next step.
Let me rephrase that: We are invited and encouraged to take all that we’ve learned with us. But it is up to us to cultivate that soil. Making space for that healing and expanding power of hope.

And, it is why we remember that no one of us is on this journey alone. As we are reminders to one another to make that space for healing and hope.
I want to thank you for being on this Camino with me. It did mean the world to me.

And today, I carry with me this invitation from L.R. Knost (to let our light spill). “Here’s to the bridge-builders, the hand-holders, the light-bringers, those extraordinary souls wrapped in ordinary lives who quietly weave threads of humanity into an inhumane world. They are the unsung heroes in a world at war with itself. They are the whisperers of hope that peace is possible. Look for them in this present darkness. Light your candle with their flame. And then go. Build bridges. Hold hands. Bring light to a dark and desperate world. Be the hero you are looking for. Peace is possible. It begins with us!” 

THURSDAY DEC 5 —

Rest is a requirement, not a reward.
In our Christian tradition, we’ve begun the season of Advent. Advent is about waiting. In other words, the permission and need to slow down.
I like to think of Advent as a reset button. We let go of our need for rushing and for urgency. But that’s not easy to do in a world where holiday season can be synonymous with list-making and deadlines, cumulating an urgency tinged with worry (“Did I remember to do…?”).
This I know: worry or rushing does not connect us with (or ground us in) hope.
Hope is calming.
An invitation to settle down.
The permission to breathe deep. And make space. And be here now. Even in our waiting.

I am so very grateful I walked my Camino just before Advent. It is the time of year to pay attention to letting go of “stuff”, and making space for new beginnings, our need for restoration and forgiveness and rebirth.
So. Here’s another paradigm shift I absorbed on my Camino: Rich is not about what we possess. Or own. We’ve turned wealth into a way to objectify stuff and relationships, predicated on having, possessing and preening.
Rich is about the real connections that expand our life and give us value.
Rich is about the connections that promote the value of love, empathy and compassion and encourage us to struggle against what is artificial, mechanical and cold.
To paraphrase Wendell Berry, “The significance, ultimately the quality of our life, is determined by our understanding of the story in which we are taking part.” This begs the question, what is my narrative?
It’s important to remember that we don’t tell these stories to add a dollop of regret, or a passel of “shoulds” to our life. Our plates are plenty full. So, this is not an assignment. This is a gift. An invitation, pure and simple. An invitation to be front row and center to this sacred moment, this sacred life, wholehearted. And the portal to this invitation is gratitude.

“A man is rich, whose heart is light,
Whose pleasures are simple, and his joys in sight,
He finds delight, in nature’s gentle breeze,
And sunshine warms his soul, with effortless ease.
His wealth is measured, not in gold or might,
But in the beauty, of a peaceful night,
A walk in the woods, a book by the fire,
These are the treasures, that his heart desires.
He is the richest, who can find delight,
In the smallest pleasures, that life brings to sight,
A child’s laughter, a friend’s warm embrace,
These are the riches, that fill his heart with grace.
So let us not be fooled, by wealth’s disguise,
For true richness lies, in a heart that’s wise,
That finds joy in the simple things,
And treasures love, above all earthly rings.”
Author unknown

FRIDAY DEC 6 —

I write this on an airplane, flying from Portugal to the United States.
I spent my final day in Lisbon, traversing the city. And wherever you are in Lisbon, wherever you walk, you can see sitting on top of Lisbon’s highest hill, The Castelo de São Jorge (St. George).
There are fortifications at this spot which date to the 2nd century BC. Now that, is a long time ago. (And, remains have been found here which date as far back as the 6th century BC.)
The castle itself was founded in the 10th and 11th centuries, when Lisbon was a critical Moorish port. In 1147, the first king of Portugal, Dom Afonso Henriques, captured both the castle and the city from the Moors. And in 1255, when Lisbon became the capital of the Kingdom of Portugal, the castle served as the alcáçova, a fortified residence for Afonso III, in his role as governor.
This I know: I sure do love to walk around, and marvel at, old landmarks. And I love to touch the stone in the walls, walls that have stood for over one thousand years.
Old places are a treasure chest for story tellers. Oh, the stories that have been told, and re-told, and passed down. I can almost hear the stories in those walls.
And there is more to stories than just entertainment. Stories carry a gift and a power; They invite us to be engaged. And they invite us to ask questions.
“What did we learn?”
“In what ways did we find empathy and connection?”
“In what ways did we grow and make changes?”
“In what ways did the story reinforce our investment into things that really matter?”
Stories to help remind us where we find our grounding. And where we embrace the ways that healing and forgiveness and reconciliation and absolution help to build an “emotionally fortified” residence.

I will be back in the States for Advent season. But my Camino pilgrimage continues. And for those unable to physically walk the Camino, being there in spirit means the world. And thank you for those who joined me in spirit. And I’ll be seeing you in Sabbath Moment, gratefully telling stories… Onward together my friends.
Speaking of pilgrimage, here’s our quote to take with us into the weekend.
“Life is not about chasing perfection or adhering strictly to a set plan. It’s not about reaching a final destination or ticking off a list of achievements. Instead, life is about embracing the journey, finding meaning in the small moments, and growing through experiences. It’s about learning from setbacks, celebrating successes, and understanding that the path is often as valuable as the destination. Life’s richness comes from our interactions, our passions, and our ability to adapt and find joy in the everyday.” Balt Rodriguez

On the Second Sunday of Advent, December 8 (yes, also the Feast of the Immaculate Conception), I will celebrate birthday number 70. Time for chocolate cake and a good wine.

Prayer for our week…
Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not
so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.
Saint Francis of Assisi

Photo… “Terry, Congratulations on your Camino. Thank you, your Moments have rekindled Camino memories for some, and provided motivation for others. May the Spirit of the Camino be a part of your everyday journey. Ultreia!” Monica Armanino & Dave Jennings… Thank you Monica and Dave… I’m so grateful for your photos, please send them to [email protected]