I'm just going to be real: as much as I want to, I simply CANNOT condense my thoughts, impressions, and experiences of my two weeks in Israel into one gigantic blog entry. So I'm not even going to try. Left to me, I could blog about that place for the rest of my life and still not be able to say enough. So I'll just start with one entry... for now, at least. :)
Over the next few entries, I'll try to touch on all of the major aspects of Middle Eastern culture that I experienced--the food, religion, personalities of the people, social dynamics, etc.-- because there were soooo many new and exciting things to experience! Today, I'll just talk about my overall feelings about my trip. That is, if I can find the words....
From the van ride to Dulles Airport, I was already starting to feel this growing excitement deep inside me. I couldn't really explain or articulate it, so for the most part I just kept my thoughts to myself and tried to calculate how long our travel time would be. Before leaving, I was so stressed out with preparations, I didn't think I even had time to be excited. I mean, how could I be excited when there were 570,000 lbs. of clothes to iron and pack?! But from the minute we got on the road, I could feel something stirring inside me, a sudden eagerness to just get there. And not because I don't like planes. I like planes. I hate their food, but I love planes. I was eager because I felt like I was going to a familiar place of safety. I was going home.
On the plane, I stared out the window and tried to suppress the growing restlessness swirling around inside me. I whipped out my 4X6 inch lavender journal and sketched vigorously with a bold black Sharpie pen: "It's funny; most people see Israel as a dangerous place...and yet with every mile I feel as though I'm escaping to a refuge. Like even though Jesus is with me now, He's waiting for me there."
And wait for me He did, for His presence was everywhere. From the second I set foot off the plane, I felt different. More alive, like I was looking at everything for the first time. Even in the middle of the airport in Tel Aviv, (arguably the least holy city in Israel :D), I was just happy to be there and listen to the people yell at each other in Hebrew and Arabic. I was captivated by the sound.
As our sherut (the Hebrew word for a bus-like taxi van) drove through the mountains of Israel, I felt like I was in some sort of trippy dream. I, the American college kid from a teeny tiny town, was getting to go to the places where Yeshua actually lived. Um, time to be excited!
No words can describe how I felt when I first glimpsed the walls of Jerusalem. To be perfectly honest, I don't think I really believed what I was seeing; I just snapped shots with my little red digital camera like it was my job. And if I was losing words just looking at the place, I just about lost them all when I got inside the city and got a look at this at the top of the city wall: (click to enlarge image)
Hills for miles and miles and miles and miles!!!! Seriously, Jerusalem, and everything surrounding it for 300 square miles, is either on a hill or in a valley. ERRTHING. So if you're walking downhill and are starting to feel good, don't get happy. You about to walk right back uphill again!
But it was worth it. Oh, was it worth it! The endless hills, the hard, "new" cobblestone streets (in Jerusalem, their idea of a "new" structure is something 800 years old. I'm serious), the dry heat,--it was all worth it. Because the shalom, the peace of God there is so present it's almost physical. As our friend and host said on our first night in Jerusalem: "In a land where men once had hearts of stone, the stones here have hearts." He was right. Unless your soul is made of granite and iron, it is near impossible to go there and not feel something, anything! Awe. Wonder. Incredulity. Excitement. Shalom. And the sense of familiarity I had with the place--it freaked me out. I am arguably the most directionally impaired person, well, like, ever, and in this city with twisting alleys, dozens of shops that all start to look the same after a while, and streets narrower than some aisles in Wal-Mart, I could find my way anywhere after being shown just once. It was like it really was my home, and I couldn't explain how I seemed to know the place already.
And I fell in love with the people. Israelis, Arabs, Palestinians; I loved them all. Their dry sense of humor. Their hospitality. The fact that God is more than just the center of their life--He is their life.
As I upload more pictures onto my Facebook page, I begin to recall more and more happy memories of my time there. And even though I'm back home in the States, I know that I've still left a pretty good chunk of my heart in my other home, too.
What an over view Natasha. I thank God for people like you, Tolu, Ronke, etc who have the gift of language and words and has the gift of putting them all together. That was how I felt - coming Home. The scriptures I had been reading came alive. I could see Jesus "going to a high Mountain, He sitting down and teaching them saying "Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven" It was just amazing, indescribable.
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