23 April 2019

It’s a place that reminds me of home, but feels utterly alien. We are constantly surrounded by green mountains on one side and the ocean on the other, with only a strip of land in between. Yet it is not my way, my camino, that draws my eyes as it may have in the US. It is the absolute contrast that I find in sweeping my eyes from left to right, rather than the dirt under my feet. Everyone calls Ireland the “Emerald Isle”, and thus from what I’ve seen, Asturias should be called the “Emerald Shore”. It is here, through conversations, through interacting with nature that God has opened my eyes and helped me to see. I see that, despite all my worrying, things turn out well. I see that, despite all my work, all my knowledge, I am insignificant to the world, yet I can do so much. I see that, despite my strengths, God can work through my weaknesses, but only if I can let myself be vulnerable and trust him. Trust him to guide my feet as I follow his way; trust him when the path curves and doesn’t make sense; trust him to put me exactly where he needs me, when he needs me, especially when I think I know better. God’s way is like the Camino de Santiago. It twists and turns, is muddy, has crossroads, and is cluttered with whatever is blocking the way. But the blue and yellow shell signs pointing the way always appear. The mud eventually turns to dirt and to grass, and there is always a path through the obstructions. Following God isn’t always clear, but if we follow the way of Jesus, we’ll find a warm place at our journey’s end.

-Austin Engle