I was halfway around the world, but I was at home; I was alone, but never lonely; I was physically, emotionally and spiritually exhausted, yet I felt energy that I have never known before. These are just a few of the incredible things I experienced on my recent trip to Israel.
In retrospect, it was a pretty gutsy move, joining a tour group of total strangers on the adventure of a lifetime, and what an adventure it was! I can't tell you that this trip was at the top of my bucket list, but when I heard about it, I was filled with a strong desire to go and, when my husband wasn't as excited as I was, we decided I would go alone. And that's exactly where God wanted me--away from family, co-workers, and friends. I needed to figure out who I was without the distraction of people and jobs and my busy life in general.
People asked me if I was afraid to travel to a place that might be "unsafe," and those fears never crossed my mind. I'm afraid of little things like escalators going down, so when I found myself having to haul two suitcases down the escalator at O'Hare Airport, I felt a whole new sense of courage and independence. When I finally met up with my entire travelling team, and realized what a friendly bunch they were, I was relieved and excited.
So . . . after thirteen hours of time in the air (including a stop in Istanbul), losing seven hours out of a day, and a sore neck from my unsuccessful attempts at sleep, why did I feel like I was arriving at "home" when we landed and why did it continue to feel like home during the next eight days? This place, this land of Israel, the hills and valleys, the desert--all of it has been a part of me for as long as I can remember. The Sunday School stories and pictures, hundreds of Bible story books, and the colored maps in my Bible signify something that's part of my DNA.
It's no wonder I wept as our boat glided slowly on to the Sea of Galilee, or when I looked up at the mountain where Jesus prayed. I could almost see His silhouette against the sky and the thought that He already knew me then, overwhelmed me. Knowing that from that mountain, He saw the disciples "straining at the oars," reminds me that He sees my struggles as well. We sat on the beach where Jesus may have called His disciples or where He asked Peter, "Do you love me?" Jesus knew how discouraged Peter must have felt after denying Him and He knows how discouraged I can get, yet Jesus came to him in that place and offered forgiveness and a future that boldly impacted the church forever.
I was "home" when we celebrated communion together in the Garden of Gethsemane and as I wandered alone through the olive grove where Jesus prayed. Earlier that morning, as I was waiting for our bus, a little woman from Hong Kong had been playing a familiar tune on a ukulele. As I listened, the words came to me and we began to sing together, each in our own language:
King of my life, I crown Thee now
Thine shall the glory be
Lest I forget Thy thorn-crowned brow
Lead me to Calvary
Lest I forget Gethsemane
Lest I forget Thine agony
Lest I forge Thy love for me
Lead me to Calvary
That song was all I could hear, as I walked in the garden. I was "home."
Even though I had many moments of quiet reflection by myself, I never felt the lonesomeness that many of us struggle with. I had no friends or family with me, yet I was beginning to understand the concept of family in a new way. Some of the archeological ruins that we explored demonstrated what a Jewish family looked like. Families would build a home and continually add to it as they grew. Soon these "insulas" would grow to be very large and at the center, was the synagogue.
As the trip progressed, I began to understand this concept as it was demonstrated to me by my travel partners. The tribe mate who grabbed my large suitcase off the turn stile and those who grabbed my hand as I climbed down large rocks became my brothers. The delightful woman who screamed and laughed with me as our camel precariously stood, hind legs first, became my sister. So many gestures of kindness--the couple who climbed halfway up the mountain just to retrieve the jacket I left, those who bought me ice cream or loaned me money for a necklace when I left my money on the bus, the kind ones who took my picture when a selfie was my only option--all of them became family. And every now and then, I even felt comfortable asking for help! I wish there was a way to express to this amazing group of people, how much I learned from them about taking care of each other.
So now I'm home and the trip is in the past. I was told that it would take a week to recover and at first I didn't believe it. The body needs sleep and I was sorely lacking in that area; but it was a happy exhaustion. Physically, I had done more than I thought was possible. I was told to prepare for five miles a day, and I was ready for that--no one talked about the inclines. Silly me, all those biblical places are called Mount Whatever for a reason. I'm pretty sure that at least 2/3 of my steps were uphill. Please don't question my math on that, I think the bus strategically moved around a little so that we had the full "climbing" experience. But I never missed an opportunity to hike down into a cistern or well or go just a little further on the mountain for a better view. When we were offered a tour of Hezekiah's amazing tunnel, I strapped on my head lamp, slipped into my water shoes and followed the crowd, trusting that we'd support each other through our claustrophobia. I had strength that I didn't know I possessed.
So I have a lovely photo album that I've worked hard on, some amazing memories and so much more. I've learned that, even though we live in a well-planned and logical universe, the way God reached down to us was not logical or predictable. Bethlehem, Nazareth and Capernaum--these were humble and very real places. Jesus didn't choose His disciples from those who sat in the "chief seats" in the synagogue, and He certainly did not choose a beautiful babbling brook for His baptism, as we so often picture it. When He fed throngs of hungry people, He didn't stop to do a mathematical calculation. When He asked His disciples "Who do you say that I am?" He did it in one of the most pagan settings of His day. And when He chose disciples, when He taught, when He spent time alone with God, when He prayed in Gethsemane, and when He finally died, He climbed mountains to do so. Following Jesus as He walked here on earth was not an easy journey, and following Him in my life is not always easy either. There are days of pure exhaustion, but the climb is so worth it.
I’m pressing on the upward way,
New heights I’m gaining every day;
Still praying as I onward bound,
“Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.”
My heart has no desire to stay
Where doubts arise and fears dismay;
Though some may dwell where these abound,
My prayer, my aim, is higher ground.
Lord, lift me up, and let me stand
By faith on Canaan’s tableland;
A higher plane than I have found,
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.
