Hey you, it's me.

He went anyway.

Hand-drawn illustration of the Church of Our Lady of the Assumption in Laredo, Spain, from Jenn's Camino del Norte journey. — The Church of Our Lady of the Assumption — Laredo, Spain.

How are you doing?

Because today, my body hurts.

My legs are sore. My shoulder hurts. I'm tired. The kind of tired where even the thought of getting back on Ike, the bike, feels like a lot.

Today, somewhere in the middle of it all, I walked into an old church in Laredo. I found a bench, sat down, and looked up at Jesus hanging on the cross.

And for a while, I just sat there.

I looked at Him and began to think about His body. How tired He must have been. How His shoulders must have ached from carrying that cross. His feet from walking. The physical pain of everything He had already endured.

Maybe I noticed it differently today because my own body hurt.

I sat there thinking, Jesus, You know.

You understand what pain feels like. You are familiar with exhaustion. You know how it feels when the journey is tough.

And I didn't have some beautiful prayer after that. I didn't need one.

I just sat there thinking, He went anyway.

I wondered what went through His mind with each painful step. What He thought about as His body grew exhausted, the cross grew heavier, and He knew what was waiting for Him.

He went anyway.

And sitting there, I started thinking about how many times I've looked at the cross without truly stopping to consider the sacrifice He made.

Then came the part that was a little harder to admit.

How much time do I spend focused on me?

My problems. My fears. My plans. My disappointments. The things I wish were different. The burdens I carry in my head.

I can become so consumed with asking God to help me carry what feels heavy that I forget to thank Him for what He has already carried for me.

That thought stopped me.

I came into the church focused on myself, and there I was, staring at the cross, reminded of gratitude.

So, I stayed on that bench a bit longer.

No big prayer. No profound words.

Just, Thank You, Jesus.

Thank You for the sacrifice.

Thank You for loving me enough to keep walking.

Thank You for going anyway.

I've received so much encouragement and love from home throughout this Camino. Your messages, prayers, letters, and little reminders that someone is thinking of me have meant more than I can express.

And sitting in that church made me think about how easy it is to miss what is already surrounding us when our attention gets stuck on what feels hard.

Maybe that's something I needed to notice today.

There is still so much good here.

There are people who love me from thousands of miles away. There is a body that has carried me this far. There is another day ahead of me. There is an old church with a bench when I need a place to sit. And there is a God who meets me right where I am, even when all I have to offer Him is a tired version of myself and two words:

Thank You.

Maybe today you can find your own two words too.

Not because everything is easy. Not because everything makes sense.

Just because sometimes we need to look up from what we're carrying long enough to remember who carried us.

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
Matthew 11:28

Tomorrow, I'll continue with Ike for another 24 miles. I'm learning to pause and appreciate the journey as I go. It makes me think about the walk Jesus took from the Road to the Cross.

But first, I plan to stay here a little longer.

Write back to me. If you paused today for even a moment, which part of His walk touches your heart? Is it entering the gates, hearing the crowd shout Kill Him, being betrayed by His friends, or the pain of carrying the cross? He endured it all for you, for me, and for everyone to have the opportunity to choose Life.

Write Me Back ↓

I love you; stay sweet out there. Don't forget to take a moment today.

Buen Camino. 🤎🐚

Sending care from the Camino,

~ Jenn

P.S. The book underneath all of this is Silent to Spoken: A Woman's Journey Through the Pause. It comes out October 6th. This journey is becoming a living reminder of so much of what I wrote about: pausing long enough to hear yourself again, surrendering what you were never meant to keep carrying, and finding the courage to use the voice that was there all along. silenttospoken.com

If you are looking for a midlife companion, let me walk with you.
lavishlifeliving.com

The deeper we dive, the sweeter it gets.

Which Part of His Walk Touches Your Heart?

Or your own two words, if that is what today has in it. Nobody else sees this.

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