It is finished.

     How did this happen?  It seems simultaneously like it was yesterday and ages ago that I began this adventure.  1,000 miles in 62 days.  It almost seems like a dream.  I woke up around 6:30 on July 24th to the sound of a group of Catholics praying Morning Prayer in the lobby (not a bad way to wake up).  Almost everyone else was already gone.  I packed up my bag and took some extra time to pray Office of Readings and Morning Prayer, I wanted to make sure I started the day off as prayerfully as possible.  Because I was so late leaving the albergue, I was pretty much alone for the first couple hours of my walk, which was a nice surprise after the hundreds and hundreds of people I was surrounded by the day before.  When I began I felt a strong since of awe, knowing it was my final walkñ but that soon gave way to impatience as the kilometers seemed to stretch on and on and on.  (In reality, it was one of my shortest hikes of the whole trip.)  By the time I reached Santiago I was feeling exhausted (I really hadn't slept much in a few nights).  And it was rather frustrating to discover that once I reached the city, it was still another 45 minutes before I reached the Cathedral.
     When I finally reached the main plaza I tried to feel something, some sense of completion, but it just wasn't there.  I entered the cathedral just as they were beginning mass which was quite fortunate, but frustrating due to the crowds of people milling around constantly the entire time.  Right after mass I went to the Apostle's tomb to pray and thank him for bringing me so far.  Still I felt nothing.  So, exhausted and hungry, I got my compostella and went in search of a place to stay for the night.  After some initial failures to find anything I decided I needed to eat and rest, because I was just too dang tired to think straight.  This whole time I was trying my best not to feel anxious about finding lodging.  I kept reminding myself how often and generously God has provided for me on this trip and just kept saying, "I trust you Lord, whatever you want, but please give me a place to stay."  But I still felt anxious, I really didn't want to sleep on the street.
     I got lunch at a great little kebab place and as I was leaving I ran into an America named Michelle who was born, wonder of wonders, in French Lick, just about an hour from my hometown.  It turns out she knew of a great little pension that she had stayed in the night before and thought they had a room left.  So I walked, very quickly, to the place and, praise God, they had a room left.  As soon as I was sitting in the room I just started laughing I was so relieved and offered up prayers in thanksgiving to God for taking care of me once again.
     Now I revisted the cathedral, with no worries about what was going to happen next.  The crowds had died down quite a bit, the church was much quieter, I was much quieter.  And I started to feel it.  I went to the statue of St. James behind the high altar and knelt and thanked him for all his help.  I went to the back of the church to see the column with the handprint from all the millions of pilgrims who have touched it upon ending their pilgrimages.  Just to stand in that spot and know that so many have stood exactly there in thanksgiving and awe was amazing.  As I walked back up towards the sanctuary the "finished-ness" of it all hit me, and every few steps I would begin to laugh and cry simultaneously.  Lastly I stopped in the adoration chapel and knelt before Christ my Lord, who called me on this pilgrimage, who guided me and protected me along it, who drew me closer to Himself through it, and who strengthened me to finish it well, and I laughed and cried (as quietly as possible of course) and said "Thank you."

     I was blessed to meet up with several of my "camino friends" for dinner that night.  It was a wonderful little reunion.  We shared stories, talked about how our hopes for the camino had been fulfilled or what we think we'll be able to take back with us.  One woman asked me about when I decided to be a priest and I got to share my vocation story with the group.  It felt good to be able to share my story, including some of my experience in Lourdes, and try to communicate as sincerely as possible my passion and excitement and ridiculous desire to be a priest.  I can only hope that if I can communicate my passion sincerely it may serve to help others examine their own faith, and draw closer to God.
     After dinner I went back to my room and prayed and journaled, and just tried to process, not only that day, but the entire trip.  It was over.  My two month long pilgrimage was over.  Thank you Lord for the Camino, for prayer, for scripture, for strength, for solitude, for community, for friends found and left behind, for your grace that has permeated every step of my pilgrimage and every second of my life, for bringing me to seminary and (hopefully) for calling me to be a priest...for everything.  Thank you.  Glory be to God! The Camino is over, the pilgrimage continues.