We are all pilgrims.
That’s what I like to believe, that each of us is on a journey to a holy place.
For me, part of that journey took me across mountains to Santiago on the famed Camino de Santiago. But more than the miles I walked, it was the lessons in faith along the way that shaped me.
Faith Beyond Ourselves
When we think of faith, we often focus on our own lack:
“Lord, help my faith… I need more faith.”
On the Camino, I discovered something different. Faith isn’t merely about how much of it I can muster. It’s about recognizing that God is faithful to me.
That realization changed the way I faced challenges on the trail, especially one particular day I’ll never forget.
The Water Bottle Story, A “God-sidence”
Pilgrims call it The Water Bottle Story. I call it a God-sidence, a moment that looked like coincidence but was clearly God’s hand at work.
It happened several days into my trek. I was heading downhill toward an intersection when I dropped one of my hiking poles. As I bent to pick it up, I didn’t notice that the top of my pouch wasn’t zipped.
My gear spilled out and went racing down the slope, bouncing off rocks and rolling into the ravine. I scrambled after it, gathering what I could. Eventually, I caught up with my scattered belongings, packed them back, and continued down the trail.
It wasn’t until I had gone much farther that I realized the most important thing was missing: my water bottle.
Alone and Thirsty
I looked ahead, miles of empty trail.
I looked behind, not a soul in sight.
The sun was climbing higher, and I had no water.
I whispered a desperate prayer:
“Lord, I need you more than ever.”
Then I fixed my gaze on the dusty path, determined not to obsess over how far it might be to the next village. Worrying only made me more anxious.
The Unexpected Minivan
As I trudged on, I noticed a distant cloud of clay dust rolling toward me.
At first, I thought it was just the wind, but then I saw something strange, a gray minivan leading the dust cloud.
That might not sound unusual on a normal road, but on the Camino there are no vehicles. The trail is narrow, meant only for pilgrims on foot.
The minivan came closer and closer, kicking up dust as it sped toward me. I stepped aside to let it pass.
Instead of passing, it slowed to a stop right next to me.
The window slid down, revealing a stubbly-faced Spaniard behind the wheel.
He looked at me for a moment, then silently reached out and handed me a cold bottle of water.
A Prayer Answered
I stood there stunned. I took the bottle, mumbled a thank-you, and before I could say more, the minivan drove away, disappearing in the trail of dust.
In that moment, I felt a quiet assurance: my prayer had been heard.
What had seemed like an impossible situation was met with provision I couldn’t have imagined.
That, my friends, was a true God-sidence, a coincidence where God’s presence was unmistakable.
The Lesson of the Camino
Walking the Camino taught me that faith isn’t about how strong my trust is; it’s about how faithful God is.
Sometimes we don’t need to strain to believe harder, we just need to keep walking, keep moving forward, and trust that help will arrive, even in the most unexpected ways.
