Eleven and Two

Eleven years ago today, on the night of the 26th of March 2005, I was baptized into the Church at the great Vigil of Easter. Last year, I wrote a retrospective on my first decade as a Christian. I don’t think I have much to add to that.

I remain absurdly grateful to God for the life He has seen fit to give me. It’s been a joyful – if sometimes crazy – adventure, and I don’t expect that will ever change.

Tomorrow afternoon, Francine and I are setting off on another adventure, our second Camino. Our flight leaves at two tomorrow afternoon.

Our plan is to walk from Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port in the French Pyrenees to Santiago de Compstella, a distance of about 800 kilometers or 500 miles, on pilgrimage to the relics of Saint James.

I often say that God is a mathematician to confound the poets, and a poet to confound the mathematicians. There’s a certain poetry in walking from the town of Saint John to the city of his brother, Saint James.

This is our second Camino, but our first full one together. Last time Francine met me half way, in León, while I myself only started from Roncesvalles in the Spanish Pyrenees.

One of the chief things I’m working out on this pilgrimage is the answer to the perennial question, “what is God calling me to?” I thought I knew, but I was wrong.

While we are gone, daughter Raine and nephew Jason will be watching Pistachio House and its menagerie of cats and chickens.

I will attempt to blog from the Camino, but my experience is that decent wifi is largely mythical in the villages northern Spain. The cities and towns are much less problematic. In addition, I have a certain number of non-Camino related posts set to automagically go live at various points.

Please pray for Francine and I on our pilgrimage, as I will continue to pray for you on yours.