Pre-trip Prep: An Invitation to Trust

I thought I could also entitle this post “Too Smart for my own good.” I found GREAT airfare - and to get an even better deal, I tried to find a way not to check (i.e. pay extra for) my bag (in future posts possibly referred to as “mochila”), which I would have to do if I brought my trekking poles with me. I learned that I could mail them by first class mail for $24. So I put my new poles in a small box, filled out my customs form, went to the post office a couple of weeks ago, and mailed them to my first hostel. Good plan… in theory. When I checked tracking information a few days ago, I found out my poles were held in customs in Lisbon. I asked my local post office for information / advice - they said from their information it looked like my package had cleared Portugal customs. I started to think of solutions - call the post office; take a train to Lisbon; buy another set and pack them in my bags; go to a local sport store in Porto and get poles… Then I took a breath… okay, more accurately, after laying awake for a few hours thinking about scenarios, I decided to breathe deeply. I slept. I woke up with a new perspective. Part of Camino is about trust - in general, and, more particularly, trusting in God to provide.   The planner in me wants to order more poles to bring and just check my bags. The hopeful adventurer wants to trust that provision will happen once I arrive. The logical side says - provision comes in wisdom and planning and thinking ahead, so buy the poles. The side that wants to grow in faith says, “Stop worrying. Embrace the unknown. Trust God to be present, to provide, and to teach you in this process.” I’m still undecided as I type this. Before I sat down to type I thought - just go for it. As I typed this I re-considered, just bring some. Even though I flip-flop, it’s not done anxiously now. For that I am thankful. I was concerned that I wasn’t preparing myself spiritually beforehand for this trip - yet now I see that even this is getting me to stop, to pray, to begin to sit in the unknown and uncertainty of the future with hope that God is already there.  Ultreia (y Suseia), Dan