The following was taken from the resource we have compiled for pilgrims on the Camino De Santiago. You can get a free digital copy here. Downloading and giving your feedback helps us to spread the word.

O Jesus, rescue me.
I am angry and resentful.
I am fearful and discouraged.
I am confused and unnerved.
All of them bundled together,
One coming to the surface and then disappearing while another takes its place.

What did I do to deserve this treatment?
I opened up with another.
I thought we were agreed.
But then I was treated as an enemy.

Is there something that is within them
A memory, a similarity, a fear,
That was triggered by my presence or my actions?

O Jesus, you were treated as an enemy,
Yet you are the friend of sinners,
The lifter of the weak,
The protector of the helpless.

You were carried to the cliff.
You were forced out of town.
You were stalked in the darkness.
You were nailed to a cross.

O Jesus, you felt the disapproval of the elite.
You felt the betrayal of friends.
You felt the abandonment of humanity.
You felt the wrath of God.

But yet you forgave.
You prayed for your tormentors.
You fed those who forsook you.
You held out your hands to those who doubted.

O Jesus, you know my heart.
You know the pride that lies beneath my actions.
You know the fear that motivates so much of what I do.
You know the anger that undergirds my words.

O Jesus, you know my heart.
You know my desire to love.
You know my desire to make peace.
You know my desire to give hope.

Forgive this treatment that I have received,
O Jesus,
And forgive me.
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Luke 23

The following was taken from the resource we have compiled for pilgrims on the Camino De Santiago. You can get a free digital copy here. Downloading and giving your feedback helps us to spread the word.

I don’t deserve the kindness of strangers, O God.
Thank you.
Thank you for this demonstration of your common grace.
You have reminded me again that you keep evil at bay,
Your image in us impels us to value others,
You care for your children wherever they are.
Thank you.

Thank you for these men and women who give what they have,
Who point me in the right direction,
Who walk with me to the next turn,
Who speak too quickly for me to understand but don’t get frustrated,
Who smile.

Thank you for those who painted the arrows
And those who laid the cobblestone.
Thank you for those who clean the fountains
And those who pick up the trash.

Thank you for the lady who watches from the window 
And greets me with a smile.
Thank you for the man with the cane
Who keeps the dogs from nipping at my heels.

Thank you for the gardener who shared her produce.
And thank you for the one who planted the fruit trees so close to the road.

Thank you for the child that shared her laugh with me.
Thank you for the elders who shared their bench with me.

Thank you for the panadería that baked this bread.
Thank you for the pharmacy who cared for my feet.

Thank you for the waitress, who without complaint
Cleaned up the mess I made.
Thank you for the couple who encouraged me in my own language.

Thank you for the stranger who gives of themselves.
Thank you that today I am the stranger who can receive.
Thank you.
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Luke 10:25-37

The following was taken from the resource we have compiled for pilgrims on the Camino De Santiago. You can get a free digital copy here. Downloading and giving your feedback helps us to spread the word.

O God from whom all blessings flow,
I thank you for this refreshing water.

My lips were parched.
My tongue was dry.
I had passed through a waterless place.
But you have satisfied.

You who spoke into existence all things
Have made such a gift from a substance so common.
There are times that I am frustrated by your gift falling from the sky
Soaking my socks
Filling my basement.

I have been angered by its excess.
I have been sick from its want.
Before an ocean,
I have been amazed by its vastness.
Before a droplet,
I have been mesmerized by its symmetry.

You make your rain to fall on the just and the unjust.
You satisfy the thirst of the world’s rulers and the lonely and forgotten.
You have stored this water in the clouds and in aquifers.
You have caused it to rush down rivers and sit in lakes.
You have used this water to flood the earth.
And you have used water to wash the disciples feet.

And here I sit beside this fountain and find refreshment.

It is unadorned and undiluted.
It is clear and clean.
It is abundant and free.
It is a small picture of your grace to me.

Your goodness to me, my God,
Is more vast than the ocean,
And more present than this cup.⁠
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John 4

The following was taken from the resource we have compiled for pilgrims on the Camino De Santiago. You can get a free digital copy here. Downloading and giving your feedback helps us to spread the word.

O Father of lights, from whom flow all good gifts,
I thank you for this simple cup.

Though unassuming, it is surprising.
Though uncomplicated, complex.
Though ubiquitous, significant.

In this moment I am experiencing something that is global in nature but extremely local.
I sit in a small café on the Iberian Peninsula, 
I hear the hum of conversation but understand little.
I smell espresso mingled with unknown aromas.
I sit on a simple chair but in an exotic place.
I am surrounded by the familiar but feel foreign.

And this drink that I sip speaks to the giftedness and cooperation of mankind.
Trees cultivated in gardens in far off places
Produce beans that are harvested,
And dried,
And sifted,
And packaged,
And shipped,
And roasted,
And ground,
And brewed,
And handed to me in a ceramic cup.

The making of this beverage has been through a succession of hands.
From the farmer,
To the laborer,
To the shipping engineer,
To the inspection agent,
To the delivery specialist,
To the barrista,
And finally to me.

In exchange for this incredible collaboration 
I pay a few coins. 
A trifle for this logistical miracle.

O good Father, I thank you for this steaming cup.
You made us to cultivate the earth and garden this globe
And this is only one small fruit of that labor.
In your image we exercise dominion over the ground,
That, because of our sin, 
Fights back with thorns and thistles.
But because of your grace, 
Gives way more often than not, 
To our plows and pruning sheers.

O Father, thank you for this small cup.
Thank you for your image bearers around the world and in this room.
Thank you for your unfathomed creation.
Thank you.⁠
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James 1:16-18