Episode 5 – Rest

Some days on the Camino seem to give you exactly the lesson you need.

Over the past few days, we have watched the landscape noticeably change. The vineyards of La Rioja have slowly disappeared, replaced by open farmland, fields of hay and sunflowers. We are a little late for sunflower season, but every once in a while there would be a late bloomer standing along the path.

I like to think they waited for us. We needed the welcome.

After eight straight days of walking, fatigue had finally caught up with us. Yesterday was a long, very hot 14 miles, and by the end of the day there wasn’t much left in the tank. When we planned this Camino, we carefully scheduled where we would sleep each night and how far we would walk each day.

What we didn’t schedule was rest. There is a lesson in that.

God created a day of rest for a reason. Yet somehow we convince ourselves that continuing to push is a sign of strength. Today reminded me that sometimes strength is recognizing that you are tired, shortening the journey, taking an afternoon nap and allowing your body and spirit to catch up with one another.

Even the weather seemed to cooperate. The relentless heat disappeared. The morning was cool and refreshing, and a gentle wind followed us much of the day.
At one point, it felt like the breath of God.

We also walked through the beautiful forests of the Montes de Oca and Monte de La Pedraja. It is hard to imagine, surrounded by such peace and beauty, that these woods hold a heartbreaking history. In 1936, during the Spanish Civil War, people were brought here, executed and buried in mass graves.

What struck me was how recent that history really is. So much of what we encounter on the Camino happened hundreds, even thousands, of years ago. But this wasn’t ancient history. It was only 90 years ago—within the lifetime of people still living today.

I found myself thinking about how many stories lie beneath our feet.

The Camino doesn’t allow us to choose only the beautiful parts of the story. These same paths have carried pilgrims seeking God, people fleeing danger, soldiers marching toward battle, and ordinary men and women experiencing unimaginable suffering.

Faith and fear. Beauty and brutality. Sorrow and hope.

And still, we walk.

Then, almost as if the Camino knew things had become a little too serious, we rounded a bend and found another one of those wonderful Camino characters.

He had pulled his car alongside the road and created his own little oasis for tired pilgrims. There were chairs to sit in, coffee, laughter, conversation—and the best watermelon I think I have ever tasted.

There was something wonderfully human about it.

A stranger saw tired people walking down a road and decided to give them a place to rest.

Maybe that was today’s lesson too.

We spend so much of life believing we need to keep moving forward. But perhaps some of the most important moments happen when we stop long enough to receive what has been placed along the way—a chair when our legs are tired, watermelon when we are hot, a sunflower blooming a little later than expected, or a cool breeze brushing across our face.

Today I was reminded that rest is not wasted time.

Sometimes it is where we finally become quiet enough to notice the gifts that have been there all along.