BLOWING INTO BURGOS

(09/16/15)

I am working on a Spanish computer and can´t even find the @ sign. I continue to stay today in Burgos. The winds are at a dangerous speed with huge gusts. Pilgrims are flooding into the City to get out of the high wind and gusty rain. I have come to the Biblioteche to use the computer and to see what the Library here looks like. Only difference that I can determine is that I can´t read anything here in the Library - even the computer keyboard is different. What remains quite consistent is the patience and the care from the people. 

On my way here I heard the Church Bells of San Lesmes the Patron of Burgos and I stopped in for noon Mass. I should say I was BLOWN in. The wind is so strong that I think it is Pêntecost again! Or, maybe STILL. When it was time to receive Holy Communion the huge ancient pillars seems to quietly breathe soft mysterious chimes and it evolved into soft electronic harpsichord music. It was delightful and peaceful - lifting of spirits. 

So far along with the walking, getting lost, wandering in wilderness, love of companions, patience of natives, impossibilities of language barriers, ancient presence of ancestral spirits, meeting people from all over the world, walking as best friends with those I have just met, caring for those much younger and in much worse physical shape than myself, having to send my dearest friend home, realizing that I need to claim my Camino and do it a new way starting now. All of this has been my Camino till now. With the realization that I need to slow down my pace and do what I can in a good way. It is interesting that with every step that I match with others I still continue to fall behind. Next life - longer legs. Now instead of feeling pressured to keep up I will slow and allow myself some breathing room. I feel that I have stayed too long here in Burgos. I want to move on and hopefully the winds will let up tomorrow and I can move on. I have set a goal now of 10-15km a day and if I feel like doing more I will. 

The biggest problem has been that one must get to the next destination around noon if you want a bed for the night. So if I go less km I will get somewhere in time for a bed. I wonder about this conundrum. If I have no bed what would happen? I have seen pilgrims turned away. I have seen pilgrims given a space on the floor with no mattress. I don´t know. This is such a unique experience for me. When money and reputation, can not buy a space. I have come to a deeper understanding of the Christmas story. What it is truly like to have NO PLACE, NO SPACE to go. I would be happy with a stable and that could very well be a place for me one night on the Camino. So where will the winds blow me? When I am walking I think of so many things that I want to remember to write down. And when I finally find a place to sit I think of very little of the day´s ponderings. Today it is about the power of the Wind. One of my Native teachers is Grandfather BearHeart who wrote his life story: The Wind Is My Mother. He communicated with the Wind and she protected him and us during a time when I was with him on Vision Quest and a Tornado force wind came right through our camp. When Grandfather drummed and sang to the WIND she lifted off the ground and there where newspaper reports of the devastation of homes in the path before our camp and then after our camp. We received a huge deluge of rain, but no one was injured by the high winds. Often I think of the Wind of the Holy Spirit. I was first ordained on Pentecost which is deeply meaningful for me - the day that the tongues of fire and the wind came to the Apostles. After my Mother died and I was in very deep grief I begged the Universe for healing from the overwhelming grief and I was given a message that my mother would come to me in the Wind. And she did. So now I know that the Wind is also my Mother. And the Fire of Pentecost is another story for another time. 

PENTECOST: Remembrance and Prayer

We are quickly approaching Pentecost, the Sunday that recalls the Coming of the Holy Spirit to strengthen the Disciples of Jesus after his Ascension.

Now that is a mouthful, isn’t it?  Simply put, Pentecost is the Sunday that we remember Jesus’ promise that he would share the presence of the Holy Spirit with each of us.  That each of us would literally be a sanctuary of the presence of God.  Now that isn’t just a mouthful, for many of us that’s beyond our wildest imaginings.

Every month the United Church of Christ offers quotations that are descriptive of the liturgical season.

One that truly made me stop and stare and read it at least three times is this African Proverb, Ghana:

"If you want to speak to God, tell it to the wind."

Now that might sound pretty so-so to you, however, one day this past Fall I went to prayer with a heart overflowing with grief.  My Mother died suddenly in August.  Her loss really knocked the breath out of our family since it was so unexpected.  My Mom was a truly beautiful woman and we had enjoyed not only a Mother-Daughter relationship; we were also best friends.  We did everything together.  So my heart was full of grief and in prayer I cried out, “I need your help.  I have to get on with my life and all I seem to be able to do is cry.  What can I do to get past this loss?” 

The response was so clear, “You know how I come to you in the WIND?” 

Yes, I did know.  Often I felt the kiss of Spirit in the Wind.  “Your Mother will come to you in the WIND.”

I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.  I ended my prayer time and went head long into my day and when I came home the tears began to flow once again.  My dear friend, Chris, took one look at me and suggested that I go to my prayer bench in the back yard and get myself grounded.  It was a beautiful Fall day.  The sky was so blue and the sun was nearly noon.  I faced the East where the large GrandFather Tree stands – so regal and tall.  The air was still and very cool, so I wrapped myself in my prayer shawl and let the tears roll as I faced the Sun and asked for relief from this overwhelming grief. 

I heard a strange noise and wondered what it was but I continued my prayer facing East into the warm sunshine.

The sound didn’t stop.  In fact it grew and grew until my prayer was disturbed by its persistence and I turned around to see the large trees behind me were blowing and bowing so deeply in the rushing, gushing, determined wind that my first instinct was to run inside for fear of the trees falling or losing a branch. 

Then my dulled senses awoke!

I looked again at the large GrandFather Tree before me and NOT ONE LEAF WAS MOVING – THERE WAS NO WIND IN THE EAST.

I turned around again and directly behind me on my less than a quarter acre lot, the trees continued their wind roaring sound as they bent and bowed.

In that moment, I got it!  I heard the inner voice again: “Your Mother will come to you in the WIND!”

Now I cried amazed tears of joy and relief.  OMG!!!

How can this be?

God, the Holy Spirit, comes to each of us every day filling us with blessing and possibilities that we cannot even imagine.  Sometimes God goes out of her way to impress us with the reality of her deep love and abiding presence with us.

This Sunday is Pentecost.  The day we set aside to remind us of the BIG WIND in our lives that IS OUR LIFE if we just let it.

"I believe in the surprises of the Holy Spirit."

--L.J. Suenens, 20th century

Pastor Carol

"Dreams grow holy put in action."

--Adelaide Anne Procter, 19th century

"A great wind is blowing, and that gives you either imagination or a headache."

--Catherine the Great, 18th century 

"Don't ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive."

--Howard Thurman, 20th century