Not getting lost but found by grace

So, the morning of July 7, in my morning prayers I asked God for signs, to show me the way, knowing that the WAY/ the Camino would not be as clear on the way back. 

And I was right. The arrows were not nearly as present. The all so familiar shell was not nearly as visible. Sometimes if you glanced back you might see a pointer for the way to Muxia but no clear indication for going back to Santiago. 

I had hopes though that my prayer would be heard. So far on this journey the signs had been clear--at times I was led by eagles, doves, storks, and other birds. I had high hopes that my prayer would be answered and that my pilgrim's feet would not get too lost maybe a little off the beaten path but not lost. 

As it so happened I found myself asking villagers who were out, "Santiago?" And pointing in the direction I was going. "Si, Santiago!" They would reply and point in the same direction. And shortly afterwards I would see a shell or an arrow. 

It was truly amazing. Incredible. Outstanding. Unbelievable. And yet it was happening. All the way along, throughout the day. 

Then I kind of stumbled down this one hill and out of one village and wasn't sure where I was to go next. I ended up on the main road which is always a little disconcerting especially when there is no shoulder and no arrow or shell. I looked to the right, nothing. I looked left, oh and arrow and a shell. Must be okay. And I walked on. I looked over my shoulder again and saw a large, white dog that resembled a St Bernard stretched out on a driveway asleep. I walked on. Pilgrims are always happy when dogs sleep. I looked at my map because in front of me there were two routes. The map was no help. I read and re-read. Nothing. I sighed standing there in the road. And then I felt something wetter than the rain on my right hand. And a slight nudge. I thought I was going to jump off the road as this dog almost my size if standing upright was next to me. It nudged me again as if to say go...go on straight...you're on the right path. I started walking again it barked and followed a bit to make sure I kept going--I looked back and said thank you in Spanish.  Sure enough there were the signs and the explanations in the book became clear. I stopped in to a cafe for coffee but more to get out of the rain and use the bathroom. But I wasn't sure it was open and started to walk on, however a man across the street as well as the woman inside made sure I knew it was open. 

And then I stumbled along again. I would wander along through a couple of towns asking people who were out if I was going in the right direction, "Santiago?" And point. And they would say, "si" and point too. It worked well. And then I walked into a town. I felt fairly sure of where I was going and then stopped. I turned around. Then started again. Then stopped. Then started. Stopped. Turned. Then I heard a "psst". A man had opened his door. He started to talk. I asked my question. He started pointing me in the way of Muxia. "No, no" then he asked if I wanted coffee. I told him a bano would be nice. He invited me in but fixed me coffee and offered me no bathroom. He also was going to fix me a full breakfast. He also tried to convince me the camino went to Muxia. 

I kept trying to tell him I was going to Santiago. Finally a friend of his showed up. They both tried to tell me the camino went to Muxia. Finally they understood I had been to Finsterra and Muxia. AND I was walking back to Santiago. 

They both said "oh ayeyahyah". "Mas kilometros. tres Dias...mas fuerte! So the friend took me out to the road and showed me where the road to Santiago was. Take this to where the maison blanche (White House) and turn right he said patting his right arm. All in Spanish. And me understanding perfectly. But just in case. God sent this beautiful hound dog, gray and black with long ears and blood shot eyes.  The dog pooped first I'm thinking just to let me know it was real and not some figment and then it started leading me looking back every now and then to make sure I was following. And then it stopped by the White House as if to say "hey you turn here, right, just like the man said!" Because when I tried to follow the dog it sat down. So I turned back and went by the White House and sure enough  there was a marker with a shell on it. And I turned to see if the hound dog would come with me but it was already down the road. Gone. 

This is how my day progressed. I was guided by signs not all of a clear marking but ones I had to be open to, ones I had to ask for, ones that I had to receive. I finally made it to the albergue where I had stayed before and there also was a sign of grace. The family that runs it remembered me, welcomed me, hugged me, was delighted to hear if be back in two years with my daughter. It was truly amazing. And I pray that I can keep listening deeply, watching closely for the signs of grace not only in my life but also help others to see it in theirs. 

And that was how grace found me today.