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The Meseta, Spanish for “Tablelands” was welcomed by some pilgrims and bypassed by others. The Meseta was a long, flat, and monotonous 133 mile section of the Camino. The scenery was not exciting either. I saw only wheat, barley, and shepherd’s fields.
Yet, I loved the walk. I had little fear of the elevation changes that would trip me or the many places where I would easily stumble over rocks on the trail like the hills and mountains typically had. The Meseta gave me a relatively safe, level to undulating trail, most of the time. Walking the Meseta was a time for me to keep my head in the heavens in prayer without worrying so much about foot placement around stones for miles and miles.
One particularly delightful stay along the Meseta was at Carrion de los Condes where the “singing nuns” ran their Albergue. These ladies exuded their core of peace and love in the way they welcomed everyone. Soon, the good sisters had every pilgrim smiling, singing, and feeling united as a pilgrim family. What a joy-filled boost this was!

After passing the city of Pamplona, Burgos is a jaw dropper for it’s beauty and history. I entered the city through the Arch of San Juan, the same arch Chistopher Columbus passed through as crowds cheered him upon his return after discovering the New World. It gave me goosebumps.

Many people begin the Camino de Santiago with a question in their heart or a shift in their life. For some, it’s the loss of a loved one. For others, an unexpected retirement or a sudden change that leaves them searching for meaning. What feels like a sunset, an ending, often becomes the very thing that leads to a sunrise.

Life often closes chapters for us – sometimes gently, sometimes abruptly. In our conversation, Brendan shared a powerful reminder of how God’s “sunsets” are not just endings, but invitations to something new.

Over the last four days I’ve witnessed things I’ve never imaged. Early in the morning I crossed a Irache Monastery’s vineyard and outdoor wine fountain. Lines of pilgrims waited for a sample of the free wine at the outdoor spigot. Tasty!

After leaving Pamplona, I faced Alto de Perdón, the Mountain of Forgiveness. The feature’s reputation for its strenuous ascent of 1300’ to the peak intimidated me. It also challenged me to reflect upon its name, A Mountain of Forgiveness. The walk was tough, and so was the reflection of the many memories, a mountain of them, when I needed God’s forgiveness.

The ascent of the Pyrenees was a cardiac stress test. My body leaned toward my boots the entire way. My trekking poles clawed at the gravely path and my biceps screamed in pain as they grew and tightened. With each straining step upward, my lungs stretched for another refill. I leaned hard and pushed myself forward. My heart thumped madly and my strained calf muscles cramped, trying to maintain my fight upward.

I felt my bed jolt. Startled I looked up disoriented to see the bunk bed above me. Where was I? Still groggy the anxious realization overtook me; I start my Camino in a couple hours. The sound of assorted snoring bounced off walls in the Albergue. The creak of bunk beds filled the room as well.

We often expect God to speak in grand gestures, burning bushes, miracles, and visions. But more often, He whispers in

We all crave connection, especially when life gets hard. Walking with others, literally or figuratively, gives us strength and perspective.