Our taxi driver, a man named Nacho with the forearms of a linebacker, picked us up at our hotel. I estimated the drive to the airport, with minimal traffic, would take 1 hour and 15 minutes. But I failed to account for foggy mountain roads and trucks hauling timber. I nervously checked the clock as we pulled out.

No need to worry. Driving like a bat out of hell, Nacho made it in 1 hour 8.

Nacho passed trucks, tourist buses, slower drivers and other taxis, all with the smooth grace of a Formula 1 driver. My wife prayed, while I enjoyed a man skilled at his work. When we arrived I offered him a generous tip. He first refused, but in my broken Spanish I explained it was for his muy rápido driving. Nacho laughed and gave me a big handshake, clearly pleased with the praise.

Hurling through the hills might not have been my chosen way to finish two weeks of peaceful walking, but the world arrives without my input.

While we hiked I thought on these lines from Psalm 121: I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip—he who watches over you will not slumber.

I remembered those words again after our wild gallop into Santiago. Just as the Lord kept my feet stable on the trail, he kept Nacho’s hands steady at the wheel. In whatever situation I find myself in, I can trust the Lord to keep watch.

Camino de Santiago 2024

Photo by Wes Hicks