Day 6 of the 3:16 Tour...Let the Water's Part!

This might be one of my favorite passages of scripture. God is so faithful to his people and this passage shows his power over all things, AGAIN. You really need to read the whole chapter. God tells Joshua, that just as He was with Moses, He is also with Joshua! I love that, because just as He was with those servants of old, He is with US today. 

In Joshua chapter 3, the Israelites needed to cross the Jordan River, during the time of harvest, which is also the time of flood...they were worried about it. But, God had a plan already. (Funny how they forgot about the miracle He gave them when they crossed the Red Sea.)

So, God tells Joshua to have the priests, carrying the Ark of the Covenant, step into the waters of the Jordan River, which were overflowing their banks...and verse 3:16 tells us what happened when they obeyed. Sometimes, we just have to step into the water, no matter how much we don't understand what will happen next. 

Joshua 3:16 (NASB) the waters which were flowing down from above stood and rose up in one heap, a great distance away at Adam, the city that is beside Zarethan; and those which were flowing down toward the sea of the Arabah, the Salt Sea, were completely cut off. So the people crossed opposite Jericho.

Read Joshua Chapter 3 in context. 


Share your thoughts about this passage in the comments below. 







NOTE: Okay, this is day 6 and I didn't post day 5. I was just so excited about this one, that I totally forgot to put day 5 first. So, look for Deuteronomy 3:16 Tomorrow. :)

We Are So Much the Same

I’ve been home for one week. Israel and her people are fresh on my mind, but as I ease back into my American life, I have taken a few moments to reflect on the take-away. Besides the Biblical and archeological history, wonderful spa experiences on the Dead Sea, seeing the clear-blue waters of the Mediterranean and enjoying five-star cuisine what did Israel leave in my heart?

I will never watch the news from the Middle East the same way. The people, who once seemed so distant, almost as if they were characters in a movie, now fill my heart. Watching children playing, mothers caring for their families, and the fathers celebrating their son’s entrance to manhood, bonded me to Israel and the Jewish people in new ways. None of the moments in everyday life ever crossed my mind when I heard about war-torn regions. It was just a news report.  It is hard to admit, but until this trip, I felt almost disconnected from the Middle East. It seemed so far away.


I prayed for Israel, and loved her people because they are God’s chosen people. Their culture, however, seemed distant and difficult to understand. I didn’t really have a point of reference. There was nothing that actually connected me with them.



The woman between the cars is the one to whom I refer in
this blog post. The frist woman was shopping near the gate.



As I sat near the Dung gate watching people rushing through for work or prayers or celebration on the last day of Chanukah, a widow held out her cup begging for alms. She was probably around 75 years old. People happily put a few coins in her cup as they passed, and she spoke a blessing in Hebrew to each of them. The scene could have been taken from any country in any language. But then, the woman turned to me, she said something in Hebrew and smiled with only a few teeth as she waited for my answer.  As I sat there, wishing I had finished my Hebrew lessons before the trip, she realized I must be a visitor to her homeland. So, she spoke a different language- Sign Language. Using her hands and some universally recognized gestures, she made her request for me to please watch her belongings while she went to find a water closet. I nodded and she disappeared down the stone walkway toward a public facility. The fact that she trusted me, and drew me into her life, just for a few minutes caught me by surprise. As I kept an eye on her belongings I realized, we are not different. Our cultures may be different, our faith may be different and our language might make communication difficult; but we are the same. We are created in the image of God. We have hopes and dreams and emotions and fears and faith and a desire to live. When she returned, her gratitude was expressed in her eyes, and I understood it fully. Dropping a few shekels in her cup, we said Shalom and parted. I will most likely never see her again, but I will never forget her. 



I am toward the bottom left of this picture.
Photo by Steven Norman, used with permission



I felt the same things as I walked through streets lined with Palestinian shops and as I sat side by side with Israeli soldiers watching videos from Holocaust survivors. We all laugh, we all cry, we all smile, we all have thoughts. And, I will never again watch the news about other countries without deep compassion for the people who live there.

It isn’t that I didn’t care about people in other countries. In fact if I had been asked, I would have said that I did care and I even prayed for them, for safety or healing or provision. But it was somehow different. Before the trip, they were on my mind. But now they are on my heart.

My last day in Jerusalem

The last day in Jerusalem began at the site of the Upper Room. As we looked at the architecture from the 13^th century and though of what happened on that site before the Crusades, I was moved by two things. First, of course, was the fact that Jesus ate his last meal with His disciples at that spot 2000 years ago on the night before He was betrayed. The second thing, striking even more poignantly for me, was that it was that we were standing on the spot where Pentecost occurred. The first spot where people were baptized, not only with water but in the Holy Spirit. The spot where tongues of fire were on their heads and each man spoke in a tongue he did not know, and everyone else understood in their own language. It was the place and time where more people were baptized as believers at a single event than any other time in Biblical history. Standing in the place where people experienced the power of the Holy Spirit for the first time was more than humbling, I could not help but to thank God for bringing me to that place.

From there, the rest of the group went to walk through the old city, but our guide, knowing my desire to connect with the culture, sent me on to the Dung Gate with our driver. It was the last day of Chanukah and a very special day for Bar mitzva at the Western Wall. Families and friends of the boy gathered in a courtyard down the hill, near the Dung Gate. With singing and dancing, drums and shofar they made their way to the Western Wall where the young man received his four corners and read the Torah from a large scroll in an ornate case. It was beautiful.

In contrast, along their route, beggars sat shaking the few shekels in their cups; Passers-by were generous to give these widows a few shekels. Along the street children played with their siblings, Tossing candy to one another and chasing each other in games of tag and wrestling. Watchful mothers stepped in only when the wrestling became too raucous. Children are children in any language and a baby’s tired cry is identical, however, there is a difference in the children in Israel. I did not see them argue with their parents when they were corrected. If their mother said it was time to go, they went without question. These children have an element of respect for their elders and a joy in each moment of living. It was beautiful to watch them, knowing they understand the history of their beloved homeland.

Quietly surveying every moment of the morning, two Israeli soldiers stood by. Their guns were at the ready, but their young faces said they hoped to not see danger in the city. Each Israeli citizen spends time in the armed forces for their country. Boys at 18 will serve for 3 years. Girls for a year and a half.

Following one of the many Bar mitzva I walked up to the Western Wall. The Wailing Wall as some call it. The men’s side was full of the most religious Jewish men. The women’s side is smaller, and much less full. However many women waited with their children for the men to finish prayers. I thought I would want to go to the wall and put a written prayer in it. I didn’t. Watching from a distance was close enough for me.

I went back to the gate to wait for my friends. Soon they came from their walk through the old city. I was so full of joy from being around such a beautiful people. They were mostly worn out from the pace of their tour. I was thankful Tsion suggested I use my time differently.

We gathered at the Robinson Archeological Park for the next leg of our tour. After watching a film about the temple in the days of Jesus, we went to the recently excavated steps of the temple. Many of the steps have been repaired or replaced with dolomite stone, (the same material as the original construction), but there are seven steps toward the bottom that are original. Steps that Jesus or the Jews of His day would have certainly walked on to reach the Temple.

Unfortunately most of the temple gates have been sealed off by other eras but you can still see the arches that were once the doorway to bring the sacrifice to God. Inside that place was once the Holy of Holies.

Our time in Israel was drawing short and we still had many things to see. We headed back toward the Western wall and then up the hill toward the Via Dolorosa where we would have lunch, in the Shuk. Muslim Arab shopkeepers line the way of the cross. Their shops are filled with everything you can imagine, including Christian and Jewish souvenirs. Rosaries, Menorah, Star of David, Crosses with the name of Jesus etched into Olive Wood. On the Via Dolorosa these peaceful Muslims capitalize on religions they consider false. It reminded me of the shops in Tijuana, Mexico, with the men standing outside trying to lure tourist in to spend money. Their thick, Middle Eastern accents could easily be compared to the broken English of the towns bordering the U.S.

Halfway up the climb through the streets of the Shuk we arrived at an Arabian style restaurant for lunch. Pita and salad started our meal. The menu offerings included Humus and Falafel, Shwarma, Kabob and a sort of sesame chicken schnitzel. By the recommendation of a friend from High School, I ordered the Shwarma, grilled chicken chopped up with some spices and fresh vegetables. It was very delicious, especially in pita with pickled cabbage and tubule.

After lunch, we continued our climb through the streets where Jesus carried the cross of Calvary. There are a lot of steps there and the Dolomite is slick from centuries of footsteps. While this construction may not be the original, it is still at least 7 or 8 centuries old and the terrain is the same as it was in the time of Jesus. As we continued to walk I thought of how hard that walk would have been with a 300 pound cross on your back, especially with blood and sweat dripping from your body, making the stone slick and difficult to maneuver. Stopping at each station of the Cross and listening to the part of the story represented by each one, it was impossible not to feel sorrow mixed with gratitude that Christ loves ME enough that he would walk that road.

Finally at the top of the Via Dolorosa, we stepped through a gate into a churchyard. It was non-descript and not what I expected at all. Our guide told us this was the Ethiopian Catholic church; the door was about 5 feet tall. After ducking through it, the ceilings were like that of a cathedral. The Ethiopian church was small and dark. Only candle light and some sunlight streaming through high windows eliminated the pathway.

We exited the little church and entered the courtyard of the most Holy Catholic site. The church of the Holy Sepulcher, the spot where most Catholic believers say Jesus was buried before the resurrection. The inside is ornate and crowds fill the altars hoping to be blessed by the priest there.  I took a few pictures, but my priority at this site was personal. The week I spent in Israel, my good friend spent saying good-bye to her mother. I needed to light a candle in this place for her. Mimi Warnock passed away this week. Not being in the states there was little I could do for my friend, but I could light a candle in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in her honor and I could pray there for them. Being able to do such a thing for my friend was a wonderful honor. Please continue to pray for Heather and her family as they enter the Christmas Season without their dear Mimi.

Exhausted from a wonderful week in the Holy Land, a few of us headed back to the hotel to pack and prepare to say goodbye to a country that will forever be etched on our hearts.

Shalom Israel!

From the Holy City to the Lowest Place on Earth

Tuesday at Masada and the Dead Sea

We left our hotel and headed back toward the West Bank. Jerusalem is very high, about 800 meters above sea level, but we were going to the lowest place on earth, the Dead Sea, which should be called the Sea of Salt because while it cannot sustain life within its waters, the minerals there can improve life for many visitors.

As we drove past the camps of the nomadic Bedouins we were reminded of the way Abraham lived in the deserts of the Middle East. Passing Jericho as we entered the desert of Judea and drove past Bethany, where Mary, Martha and Lazareth lived, it seemed like we were in a time machine. So much of Israel is the same as it was in the days of the Bible.

The mountains of Judea led us to the place where we would descend to En Gedi, the Dead Sea and Masada. This was the only day we were warned about wildlife in the area. Some species of extremely poisonous snakes, hyena and leopards call this desert home. Secretly I hoped we would see a leopard or hyena from a distance. But we didn’t. We did see some cool En Gedi Crows from the top of Masada.

Our visit to Masada (Hebrew for fortress), was poignant and a bit disturbing to me. To imagine the shear strength and fortitude it took for this fortress to be constructed, and the passionate acts of desperation that occurred in what was supposed to be a safe place, was more than I could imagine.

Masada is situated atop an isolated rock cliff at the western end of the Judean Desert, overlooking the Dead Sea. On the east the rock falls in a sheer drop of about 450 meters to the Dead Sea and in the west it stands about 100 meters above the surrounding terrain. The natural approaches to the cliff top are very steep.
75 years after Herod’s death, at the beginning of the Revolt of the Jews against the Romans in 66 CE, a group of Jewish rebels overcame the Roman garrison of Masada. After the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the Temple (70 CE) they were joined by zealots and their families who had fled from Jerusalem. With Masada as their base, they raided and harassed the Romans for two years.
Then, in 73 CE, the Roman governor Flavius Silva marched against Masada with the Tenth Legion, auxiliary units and thousands of Jewish prisoners-of-war. The Romans established camps at the base of Masada, laid siege to it and built a circumvallation wall. They then constructed a rampart of thousands of tons of stones and beaten earth against the western approaches of the fortress and, in the spring of the year 74 CE, moved a battering ram up the ramp and breached the wall of the fortress.
Josephus Flavius dramatically recounts the story told him by two surviving women. The defenders – almost one thousand men, women and children – led by Eleazar ben Ya’ir, decided to burn the fortress and end their own lives, rather than be taken alive. “And so met (the Romans) with the multitude of the slain, but could take no pleasure in the fact, though it were done to their enemies. Nor could they do other than wonder at the courage of their resolution, and at the immovable contempt of death which so great a number of them had shown, when they went through with such an action as that was.”
The Zealots cast lots to choose 10 men to kill the remainder. They then chose among themselves the one man who would kill the survivors. That last Jew then killed himself.
After we understood the story of Masada we took a cable car to the top. The excavation there is amazing; they have done a wonderful job. I enjoyed sitting in the Snake Gate watching families bringing their children, some for the first time, to share the story of their heritage with them.
I always thought that Patrick Henry was original when he said, “Give me liberty, or give me death,” but perhaps he knew the story of Masada.
On our way down from this amazing fortress, we visited the museum from the excavation. The lots of the last 10 men, names written on shards of pottery, are there. Although they are written in Hebrew, looking at each piece, knowing it was that small chunk of earthenware that would determine which of the Jews at Masada would take the life of his friends and then his own, so that the Roman’s could not take them again into slavery made me stop and reflect on how easily we allow the world to make us it’s slave, rather than enjoying the freedom we have to worship and serve the God of the Universe. These men, right or wrong, would be slave to nothing. They would not watch as their wives and children were defiled by captors, yet we so often defile our own bodies.  Their only desire was to worship their God…a God so holy they could not speak His name…even if it cost them everything. My mind is full from this experience, so I will have to ponder it more before I can write about it more clearly. Please understand that this posting is my immediate gut reaction to the things I’ve seen today.
When we left Masada, we went to lunch in En Gedi and saw a very interesting tree. The Apple of Sodom. Our guide told us it was so called because of its poison. It seems the people of Sodom were so evil; they would serve this fruit to guests. I don’t think that is the gift of hospitality.
It is also a useful plant, the fruit, when dry, offers a pod that has a cotton-like substance, perfect for making wicks for oil lamps. We found one pod on the ground so we could see what Tsion described.

After lunch we visited the Ahava cosmetics factory. This factory takes the minerals and resources from the Dead Sea and the surrounding area to make creams and other products for skin care. It was a nice tour and some of our group were excited to purchase their products at factory prices.

From there, we went to Mineral Beach at the Dead Sea. It was incredible to coat ourselves in the thick mineral mud, and float without effort on the waters of the Dead Sea. It is an experience of a lifetime. The great thing was, after we rinsed the mud and salt from our bodies, our skin was so smooth and radiant…we all felt great the rest of the day.

We got back to our hotel in Jerusalem just in time to change into warmer clothes and head to the Jaffa Gate of the old city. Inside, we were seated in the citadel of King David and watched the history of Jerusalem unfold in lights on the Dolomite walls around us. It was the most amazing light show I have ever seen. Nothing at Disney or any other studio I’ve experienced has even compared to the complete experience of this show.

We enjoyed dinner at the hotel, laughing and visiting with our friends old and new. It’s bittersweet that tomorrow is our last day in Israel. The people we are traveling with will never leave our hearts. And Israel is forever etched on my soul. Please pray with me for the peace of Jerusalem, and for the Jewish people…God’s Chosen People.
Love and Joy to each of you!
Shalom!

Day 5, He is Alive!!

Monday, December 6^th

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, I woke up to another amazing day in Israel.

There has been a drought here for a long time. In fact Jerusalem had not received rain since April, today it rained all day. They needed it so badly and it didn’t dampen our plans at all since most of our agenda was indoors today.

We left the hotel this morning and drove past Gahanna to the Kidron Valley and the Jaffa Gate to Mt. Scopus. After looking over the city, seeing the golden dome of the Mosque, built where the Temple will one day stand again, the Islamic cemetery along the entire east side of the wall and seeing the Eastern Gate, where Christ will return, sealed off as if to keep Him out, I felt something in my spirit stir.

It doesn’t matter what man does to try to stop God’s plan. It won’t work. Christ’s return to Jerusalem is not dependant on a gate being open, and he is not a priest, who cannot pass through a cemetery. In fact, he conquered death and nothing can keep Him from fulfilling the prophecy from thousands of years ago.

Next we went to the Mount of Olives, the area above the east wall of old Jerusalem and to the Garden of Gethsemane. A beautiful church is there. I stood on the stone entry of the church, looking again at the Eastern Gate of the Holy City. A song came to my heart.

“Signs of the times are everywhere, and there’s a brand new feeling in the air, keep your eyes, upon the Eastern sky, lift up your head, redemption draweth nigh”

I’ve known that song since I was a child, but never has it felt so real…If back then it seemed so real, then I just can’t help but feel how much closer His coming is today.

I stood there for quite a while, in the rain, with tears flowing freely down my face. I was standing on the hill where he prayed, “Let this cup pass from me, but, not my will but thine be done.”

As that sunk in, I thought about the fact that I was facing the place of His Triumphant return. I stood for several minutes soaking it in, before I went into the church. A beautiful mass was starting and as the priest spoke of God’s love for us, and the season of Advent I sat, on a bench to the side of the church, and cried. Thankful for the scarf I brought to cover my head in respect for the holy sites we visited. It was a good way to wipe the tears as well.

From Gethsemane, we traveled to the Garden Tomb and the place many believe is Golgotha. You can certainly see the skull in the side of the mountain there. It was touching to hear the story from our British guide. He talked about the fact that Jesus’ agony would have been at Golgotha, but not necessarily ON Golgotha because the Romans wanted passers-by to see the agony on the faces of those they crucified. It struck me, to think that the agony of Christ was so intentional, that they would want to put it on display as something they were pleased to do. Yes, I have seen The Passion of the Christ, and yes, I understand, to the degree that any 21^st century American can understand, that the crucifixion was horrible. I even knew in my head that crucifixion was a common way to put criminals to death. But, standing near Golgotha, looking over the place they may have put the cross of Jesus, and thinking of people passing by on camels and donkeys, or even walking, looking into His face, shouting insults…Silent tears could not be stopped. Throughout the garden there were sobs, and sometimes wailing at the thought of our Savior, whom we love going through such sacrifice, because He first loved me.  For a few moments, I was not in the Golgotha of 2010, but transferred to a place long ago, where I stood with Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Mary the Mother of Jesus, weeping as He laid down His life for me.

As Jesus breathed his final breath on the cross, an earthquake shook Jerusalem, the sky turned to black and the veil on the temple, which blocked access to the Holy of Holies, was torn. That curtain was several inches think. It was not like tearing a normal piece of fabric, it was miraculous, and intentional. With Jesus work on earth fulfilled, the penalty for sin paid, we gained access to God our Father. We were no longer subject to God’s wrath.

Knowing it was finished; Joseph of Aramathea and Nicodemas went to Pilot and asked for Jesus Body, they had to bury Him before sunset because it was the Sabbath. Pilot sent a guard with them to take the body off of the cross. To be sure He was dead; the soldier pushed a sword into his side. Already drained of His blood, Water poured from the wound. Jesus was indeed dead.

His friends wrapped his body for burial, packing the wraps with spices and carried him to the tomb, borrowed from Joseph. A tremendous stone was rolled in front of the opening and Roman soldiers placed there to guard the body, so that His friends could not come back and steel it.

Most Christians know this story, and we know that is not the most important part of the story. After the Sabbath was over, the women came back to the tomb with more spices…but the stone was rolled away, and His body was not there. Still, that’s not the most important part. While His earthly body was in the tomb, Jesus was not there. He descended into the very bowels of Hell, defeated death and Satan, Preached life to the captives in Abraham’s Bosom and then returned to be resurrected with the body that was healed and restored.

As I stood in the tomb, I thought of something else I had not considered much before. His body was beaten beyond recognition, His skin sliced to shreds by the scourging on his back, His head pierced by the long thorns on the crown they placed on His head to mock him. There is no natural way that His body would have been functional in three days. Except, that when His divine nature, and power to heal stepped back into His earthly vessel, He was healed so completely that only scars remained to prove to the doubting disciple He was indeed Jesus.

Stepping out of His tomb, and leaving it empty, brought Joy to my heart. We do not serve a God who is impersonal or cold. We do not have a Savior who is in a grave, turned back to ash and dust. The God of Heaven is alive, He is real and He is personal.

When we left the Garden tomb, we drove past the House of Parliament to The Shrine of the Book, a museum built to display the Dead Sea Scrolls. It was very interesting, although, unless you read Hebrew, it is not possible to read them. The display is well done and very interesting.

At the same site there is a scale model of the Holy Land. It is the entire city of Jerusalem at the time of Herod the Great. Very intricate detail makes it much easier to understand the lay of the land and the relationship of one section of the city to the others

From there we traveled a few minutes to Yad Vashem, the National Holocaust Memorial. They have done a beautiful job, ensuring that no visitor will ever forget the atrocities against the Jews in the hands of the Nazis. I was glad I got to see it. Toward the end of the museum, is the Hall of Names. They are collecting and offering information on the 6,000,000 Jews who lost their lives during the Holocaust, 1.5 million of whom were children.

A special building is dedicated to the innocent children put to death for no reason other than their bloodline. Prisms reflect the light of 6 candles, making 1.5 million flames in memory of the children. A perpetual announcement of names cycles as visitors walk through the special place. It takes over a year for the list to completely cycle. Astonishing.

After we left Yad Vashem we came back to the hotel to freshen a bit before dinner. Be sure to watch for a special blog post about Israel’s fine restaurants after I return to the states. I am too full of everything else I have seen to write much about the food today.

Here is a teaser...

Chicken stuffed figs with pomegranite-tamerind sauce

Blessings and Shalom!!

On the Road to Jerusalem

After another beautiful breakfast on the shores of Galilee we loaded the bus and said farewell to Tiberius. Our first stop was Zippori, the town where archeologists believe Mary lived as a child. They are doing an incredible job with the excavation there. It is very interesting to see the process of revealing more than 2000 years of history. They have done a wonderful job uncovering and preserving the mosaic floors discovered there. The intricacy of the floors is quite amazing.

From Zippori we went to Nazareth, to Kfar Kadem Hosha’aya, a recreation of a Galilean village from the time of Jesus. It was so much fun to spend time in this interactive village. We were greeted by Menachem Goldberg. Tea was served from a brass pot and we gathered on stone benches as he took us 2000 years back in time. We donned the 4 square robes and covered our heads with the authentic triangle wrap before we headed to the stables, threshing floor, olive press and ovens. It was great fun to milk the goat, spin wool to thread, make cheese from the goat’s milk, thresh the wheat as Ruth did, grind it to flour with a mills stone and then bake our own unleavened bread on an outdoor oven heated with palm branches and wood. It was also delicious with hyssop and olive oil. The stories Menachem told throughout our visit brought the Bible to life. After riding donkeys we gathered for lunch under a palm branch roof. It was some of the best food we have had so far in Israel. Simple food from a time that will never be forgotten.

Reluctantly we said goodbye to Menachem, He gave us a pigeon and a capsule to put a note on the bird’s leg to send back to him.

Leaving Kfar Kadem we traveled through the Valley of Kesurat, where Deborah fought her battle. Then past Mount Tabor. We drove by Endor, where Saul consulted the witch. Dropping from there to the Valley of Jezereel was like a dream. We passed the Spring of Tin Harod where Gideon tested his people, and toward the Mountains of Gilead. Finally we arrived at our next stop, Tel Bet Shaen, The ruins of an amazing city from Roman and Bisentine times. We spent time exploring the theater, the beautiful marble buildings and the remnants of homes.

Next we drove toward Samaria, and then as Jesus did 2000 years ago, we took a route that did not take us through Samaria on our way to Jerusalem.

Driving along the highway, our guide pointed out the places where terrorist attacks and war had ravaged his homeland. We saw many caves that hid attackers as they waited to ambush Israeli soldiers. It truly brought the news to life. I will write a lot more on that later.

It was dark when we arrived in Jerusalem. At our hotel, Joyce, Amber and I took our pigeon to the steps of the hotel, attached our note of thanks to Menachem and released the beautiful bird to return to Nazareth.

Our first night in the Holy city was quiet, but you can already feel God’s Presence here.

Great is the Lord, And greatly to be praised, in the City of our God, in the Mountains of His Holiness, Beautiful for situation, the Joy of the whole earth, ‘Tis Mount Zion on the sides of the North, the city of the Great King.

Shalom!

Capernaum and the Golan Heights...another incredible journey.

NOTE: I may have to edit or add to this post later, I am so tired tonight I can hardly put a sentence together, but it is such a good tired. :)

 

Today we enjoyed breakfast on the patio overlooking the Sea of Galilee and the Golan Heights that were occupied by Syria until the 6-day-war in 1967 reclaimed the land for Israel. Sitting there in such peace, it seemed surreal that many Israelis remember such fear from their not so distant past.

After breakfast we caught a boat to cross the Sea of Galilee to Capernaum. We visited the synagogue where Jesus first taught, as well as the places he healed people, including Peter’s Mother-in-law and the man they lowered through the ceilings. Most of it is just foundations, pieces of tile or marble pillars, but to know that Jesus taught at that exact spot was overwhelming.

I was so blessed to bring the devotional at Capernaum. We’ll post the video of that in a follow-up blog-post when return to the states.

After Capernaum we visited the Mount of the Beatitudes, The church of the Multiplication (of loaves and fishes) the Church of the Mensa Christi, which is also the place where Jesus told Peter, on this Rock, I will build my church.

We ate lunch at an awesome restaurant that serves only one dish…St. Peter’s Fish. The same type of fish, the same way they prepared it in Jesus time. I usually hate fish…but of course you can’t be extremely picky when it is the only item on the menu…so I ordered the fish. When it came, looking at me from the plate, my stomach got a bit weak…but being the tough farm wife I am. I began taking off the parts of the fish I absolutely would not eat. The rest was actually quite good. I was glad someone else asked for tartar sauce before I thought of it. It seems asking for such a condiment is a complete insult to the cook. They will happily give you Lemons…and even salt…but please, don’t ask for tartar sauce or ketchup.

After lunch, our guide took us up through the Golan Heights. At times we were literally 2 feet from the borders of Jordan and/or Syria. There were countless bunkers and landmines still littering the hillsides from a war that ended the summer I was born. It was incredible to hear the stories from Tsion. He knew about the war first hand, having served as an officer with tanks in the Israeli Army until he retired and took up tourism.

While on the road we passed Gadara, where Jesus made the demons go into the swine and run into the sea. We also passed many ruins of homes and churches along the way.

Finally we came to a spot where Tsion told us to close our eyes and follow him…a feat which is rather difficult, but when we came to the end, and opened our eyes. We could see the entire region of Galilee…We were at Peace Vista, the place Israel took back from Syria. The view was breathtaking.

On our way back we visited the baptismal sight on the Jordan River, started by Chuck Smith of Calvary Chapel Several years ago. The spot that is actually believed to be Jesus’ baptismal sight is not accessible, but the Jordan River still flows, ready to provide the place to commit or re commit lives to Christ.

A short break at our hotel gave Amber and me the opportunity to take advantage of the wonderful Mineral spa at our hotel. All I can say is Ahhhhhhh…much better. LOL

Dinner at the Deck’s Restaurant in Tiberius capped off another wonderful day in the Holy Land. Please continue to keep us in prayer. Tomorrow we leave here and go to Jerusalem. I know the presence of God is going to be so strong there…and I know that I have no idea what we will find in the City. What I do know, is we are ready.

Before saying goodnight this evening, Amber and I spent a long time in prayer, we were visiting in her quarters, and just felt led to pray…it was a sweet time with the Lord and we are both excited about what he will do with the rest of this trip.

Shalom to all.

From Tel Aviv to Tiberias, with a stop at Armegedon.

The Mediteranian Coast at Cesarrea

Pieces of statues unearthed at Cesarrea

An archway at the Ampetheater, strengthened with the engineering of an egg.

Near the Hippodrome

Wonderful fruit and sweets. The persimons were so good.

Lovely grilled vegetables, it's very easy to eat healthy here.

And easy to eat no so healthy too.

Tsion Ben David blessign the wine and bread.

This morning we started in Tel Aviv, Breakfast at the David Intercontinental Hotel was a fabulous array of fruits, like dates, figs, plums, pears, melon and berries. Smoked salmon and other fish were prepared to perfection and there were many vegetables, hummus, cheese and eggs. The cappuccino is so smooth and rich and the service was fantastic. The serve Lemonade here like it’s water, but in fact it is mostly lemon juice and sugar…with very little water. It’s so delicious, especially with sprigs of mint.

After breakfast, we left Tel Aviv and went to Caesarea. There, we visited the Amphitheater, The Hippodrome, some bath houses and other BC architecture. Much of it has been reconstructed after war or earthquakes but it is still older than the relics in the western world.

From Caesarea we drove to Tel Megiddo, the future site of Armageddon. We had a wonderful lunch of vegetables and chicken, fish or meatballs. After lunch we toured the ruins of the civilizations that were once on this Tel. There were 26 that they know of, and the remnants of the past are beyond words. The most impressive, is the spring-fed water works, built in 10 BCE. A large pit with 183 stairs led down 35 M, and an 80M tunnel led to the spring under the bedrock. The spring was the source of water of the city and allowed it to survive long sieges. This system overcame a problem where the spring was initially located outside the walls, and the secret passage enabled the defenders to tap into fresh water without the knowledge of the enemy.  During peaceful times the spring was also accessed from outside the walls, but during siege this entrance was blocked and camouflaged. At the end, we only had to climb up 80 steps to the surface. I am definitely going to up my work-out at home. If I can do that and survive, I can certainly push myself a bit harder.

From there we traveled to Nazareth, some most of our group visited the Church of the Annunciation, where some Franciscan Catholics believe Mary found out she was going to have a baby. I enjoyed seeing the church from the outside, but decided to stay behind and watch life in 21^st Century Nazareth for a bit. The people who live in Nazareth are not primarily Jewish. It is mostly inhabited by Arab Christians…however, many mosques are being erected in some areas of Nazareth. I enjoyed visiting in a store owned by Christian Arabs while I was there. It was wonderful to see an obvious Christian presence in Jesus’ home town. I felt entirely safe and entirely welcome among the Arabs on the City’s street. Of course, it might have been because our driver, Samuel, pronounced like Shamool. Went into the store where I shopped, and told them to keep an eye on me because they were leaving but would be back for me. It was very cool to watch him arrange for my safety, just in case it was needed.

After the rest of the group returned from the church we drove out of Nazareth. On the way we passed Mary’s Well. Which is the place claimed by the Greek Orthodox church to have been where Mary was told of her role in bringing Jesus to His people.

The entire country is a living history book, truly every rock, every layer; even the air brings a lesson in history, theology and the sovereignty of God. (He-Shem)

We arrived to our hotel in Tiberius just as the sun was setting, ushering the beginning of Shabbat, the Sabbath. The sky grew dark quite quickly, but the sounds of the Sea of Galilee lapping at the banks of Tiberius and the music and chanted prayers of Hebrew Worship made a wonderful back drop as we prepared to go to dinner. I walked out on the patio off my room; the stars were coming out and could see Draco and Orion’s Belt overhead. Suddenly it hit me; I was seeing them, not as I had seen them from home, hundreds of times…but from the same spot that Jesus, and the Disciples and Mary… What an amazing gift to gaze at the stars from the place where the maker of the stars once enjoyed their light.

An amazing buffet of delicious foods greeted us after the blessing of the wine and bread for Shabbat. Our guide, Tsion Ben David blessed the items for us. It was very interesting to me, that the wine and the bread were so vital. And, are the same elements that represent the body and blood of Christ in Christianity.

After dinner, Amber and I walked down the shoreline in front of our hotel for a few minutes. It was perfect…Now, back in my room, I have my glass door opened to the sea and a light breeze is rustling through the date palms on the shore. It’s been a great day in the Holy Land…and we are looking forward to an amazing tomorrow.

We're Here and the Food is AMAZING

I finally made it to New York City. Smack in the middle of Queens, to Kennedy International Airport. The international terminal is quite a ways from Delta, so I was happy that I asked for assistance due to my hip.  Checking in at El Al was an amazing experience. I believe traveling to Israel on the first day of Chanukah is one the most incredible opportunities to see the chosen people of He-Shem and to watch their customs and faith.

We were honored to be guests in the King David Lounge. Oddly, two different people came up to me like old friends and said, “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” then patting my shoulder continued their end of the conversation in Hebrew. I don’t know who the Jewish woman is, that apparently shares my features, but apparently people like her.

The flight crew was wonderful. They did everything in their power to make everyone comfortable on the 10 hour flight. This morning, about 4:30 a.m. the most beautiful thing happened. All of the Hasidic men on the plane, (and there were A LOT of them) Stood up, donned their prayer capes and coverings and began praying simultaneously in Hebrew. It was amazing.

A few hours later, a minion (10 men in a line) formed across the plane from my seat. All of them faced Jerusalem from the air and began praying together and bowing in worship to He-Shem. (He-Shem simply means “The Name” and is the preferred way to speak of God among the Jews I have met so far. )

Once we landed in Tel Aviv and went through customs, we headed to our hotel to freshen up. Our guide, Zion Ben David and our driver, Samuel are wonderful, we have had a non stop lesson on the history and culture since we boarded the bus.

After we checked in and freshened a bit, we went to the Port at Tel Aviv for dinner at Boya restaurant. I have NEVER experienced such amazing food in my life. After ordering they began bringing rounds of tapas. They brought hummus, tahina, pita, roasted vegetables, a cauliflower dish that was incredible, calamari, shaved beef, brouchetta and some other things I can’t remember the name of. We were practically full before they brought the main course. Mediteranian Sea Bass, Rib Steak, Lamb Kabob and other incredible delights came to the table. Being from the Midwest, I had to try the steak. I must say, I have NEVER had a better steak anywhere. It was perfectly cut, perfectly cooked and perfectly delicious. It quite literally melted in my mouth.

After dinner we went to old Jaffa, otherwise referred to as Joppa in the New Testament. It was incredible. We spent more than two hours walking through the city. I am going to let the pictures do the telling for Jaffa.

I have a 7 a.m. wake up call and as of now, it is 2 a.m. Israel time. Good night and He-Shem bless you. Keep praying and I will keep posting.

Delays, Reroutes, and Blessings in Disguise.

The adventure began as soon as I stepped up on the curb at the Kansas City International Airport.

As I shuffled my bags to pull out flight information, my passport and some cash for a tip, an eager and able sky-cap approached to offer assistance and curb side check-in for my flight. Chit chatting as we stepped to his kiosk, it looked like a beautiful day to fly.

His countenance changed as he searched for my name in his data base. “I’m sorry ma’am, your flight is cancelled. Let’s step inside.

At the Delta counter we got the good news, and the bad news.  The good news? The flight was only delayed by 2 hours. The bad news? Taking that flight I would miss my connection to JFK, thus missing my connection to the international flight to Tel Aviv.

I must say, the skycap was as helpful as possible as he directed me to the LINE for Delta customer service to see if something could be done.

After standing in line for 45 minutes the Delta representative called US Airways and booked me on a flight from Kansas City to Charlotte, then back to Delta for the last leg to JFK. I had 45 minutes to catch a shuttle to the other terminal, go through security and board my new flight.

As I dashed to the Red-Bus-zone I overheard another passenger with almost the same situation, upset because their luggage was checked early, and was already in Detroit, but their flight was delayed and they were being rerouted. Hopefully their luggage finds them; I am so using that story in my article about packing tight and using carry-on vs. checked luggage.

At the US-Airways ticket counter, the clerk discovered that, while I was confirmed on their flight to Charlotte, the system had somehow cancelled my seat on the Delta flight to JFK. Thankfully another phone call between the airlines rebooked that flight for me. That settled I looked at my phone for the time. I had 20 minutes to get through security and board my flight.

Now, for most people that might seem like a long time; especially when the line was relatively short. But, I ALWAYS set off the metal detectors because of my hip, and in Kansas City, US-Airways does not have full-body scanners.

“BEEP” the monotone alarm sounded as I stepped through the portal, with 14 minutes to catch my flight I was corralled to wait in line for phase two.

“Female Assist”

“We’ve got three ahead of her.”

“Stand by.”

“Ma’am, it will be just a few minutes," the TSA agent seemed not to notice that I could hear the conversation on his walkie-talkie. 

I wondered silently if the plane would wait, but relaxed knowing that this whole trip was orchestrated and arranged by God. If he could provide a trip to the Holy Land, he could certainly get me through security.

I’m not sure how, but it took less than one minute for a very nice, female, TSA agent to retrieve me from the holding pen. The necessary pat down procedure was smooth and without intrusion or shame. In fact, even the parts of the procedure she pointed out as being the new methods, didn’t seem much different than previous TSA screenings. As she waited for the testing machine to be available, so she could run the check for residue from her gloves, I asked her if people who wear looser fitting clothing make her job easier, or if more form fitting garments, jeans etc. were better. To my surprise, light, loose fitting fabrics that aren’t too baggie or too close to the skin make the pat down procedure more comfortable for the TSA agents and the passengers. (In case you were wondering, as I was, about proper attire for a TSA visit.)

Finally having the all clear from the residue test, I was free to fly. I grabbed my shoes, sweater, carry-on, back pack and net-book and rushed to the gate. As I stepped up to the podium my name filled the speakers in the waiting area.

“Passenger Soannenmosheir, we need you on board the aircraft immediately.” It’s always a good laugh to hear the way my name is pronounced by strangers. J

The static filled broadcast had not ended when I handed my boarding pass to the gate agent and hoofed it, in my socks, down the ramp toward the waiting plane. Thankfully a line at the aircraft door allowed me to dropped my shoes and slip my feet into them before boarding. Organizing everything else waited until I was in my seat. Row 20 seat C. An aisle. I never thought about being picky about the seat as I was being shuffled around…but I was thankful for the aisle God provided.

It was a little crazy in the airport…but God cares so much about my comfort that he allowed a bit of chaos to give me a better seat on a better flight. The seat on Delta…was a window seat, on a full flight. As I write this blog entry, I am in the air, in my aisle seat, with an empty seat between me and the tall gentleman in the window seat.

Keep praying as you follow this adventure. It’s going to be amazing!