Now what did Jesus say again?

I've always been the hammer. Hammer that truth in til it hurts and then cut them off at the knees and wonder why they are just screaming bloody murder instead of saying "you're right, I get it, I'm a completely changed person forever thank you for opening my eyes". Um... yeah. So while some of us literally revel in the glory of truth others revel in the freedom of interpretation. Awkward! So then Dad would say "you know you'll catch more bees with honey than vinegar Boogle." And I would say "sometimes the truth hurts." And he would say "I've been at this a little longer than you and you have to ask yourself what result you want, not focus just on being right." Then I would say "I don't have patience for that kind of approach." And he would chuckle. And it didn't bug me because he's my dad and naturally he knew what he was talking about even if I wasn't interested in accountability at that moment. Time to talk to Dad stretched on my horizon as far as I could see. How quickly things change. After losing Dad all of the fight just drained out of me in a puddle. And I asked myself who was Dad? The answer was the sound of a beautiful Irish Ballad or the sight of a beaming proud smile or the aroma of sweat and hay or the taste of sweet honey or the touch of rough perfect hands. The thought of who he was blesses me. And I asked myself what will I leave and I found myself reaching for more. I've rarely ever reached a persons heart with truth even though I know it well and it came so naturally to him. I'm on a new mission to find that tenuous balance between defending scriptrual truth and being guided by empathy and love; specifically to Christians who struggle with embracing the whole message of The Word. I think pride is my primary foe. If I long to make myself look good or right or smart or better or the best or PERFECT I've already lost. I've done that and it makes me look... pompous and arrogant and full of myself and a lot more like someone else than Jesus. I used to drive around and around a hayfield daydreaming of my dad allowing me to use a walkman so I could listen to Sarah McLachlan which would be a huge hazard and never allowed. Ironically he did compromise on my daisy dukes and tank tops and flip flops. Now I wish I'd used that calm productive vacuum of time to reflect on the beauty of first loving someone then sharing truth after they are secure in that love. What a gift that would be, to naturally style my life after Jesus and to do His will with a pure heart. I was reading about how to help a narcissist feel empathy. Apparently it's a real clinical disorder. through that article I gained empathy for narcissists. It was a crazy five minutes. I thought about everyone I've ever debated and what it would be like to reach a point of empathy with a struggling sister or brother in Christ before I ever utter a word of debate. To actually try to understand them. I wonder if I could ever go deeper than rhetoric like "well I know gay people and I like them" all the way to a heart message which might be "I have a deep fear of rejection from my very wonderful gay friend if I accept the Bible at it's word and try to live by it." That's transcending a roadblock and understanding fear. Then we might talk about the incredible personal spiritual significance for a Christian in living by the Word of God without imposing expectations from it on those of different beliefs. Then we could even talk about how important it is to be able to trust your gay friend, your agnostic friend, your atheist friend, your liberal friend, your Muslim friend to love you even if you believe in the Bible, just as you are called to love them exactly as they are. I see real peace in this for every Christian to truly live unconditional love with truth. We could probably even reach to the uncomfortable point of discussing the fact that gay marriage infringes on religious freedom because marriage is a religious practice performed by clergy and should never be dictated by government in compliance with separation of church and state.  Then we would have to come to a point of completion by discussing how lawmakers could go about protecting both interests because we all know that one group of people and their rights should not rank higher than another. Does that make sense? I used to want to bang people over the head with the truth and tell them to stop messing up Christianity and making us look like wimps but I was... well crap... I was WRONG and I got nowhere. 

On an extreme end of the love/truth spectrum, my friend debates her extended family's mormon faith regularly. She researches facts and squares off ready for battle. The fact is she found her way out of that heresy and I think it drives her crazy that any of them still hang on to it.  Recently she told me she's been left a copy of the book of mormon with notes for her read to help clear up her doubts and restore her to the mormon faith. She asked me the other day should she read the notes, should she set for another round and put on her religious boxing gloves? After all my years of churning my wheels trying to proudly say something just clever enough to throw someone off their high horse, I just weakly say no. It goes against all of my old habits. I am reluctantly coming to the conclusion if you get drawn into a debate on the semantics of another persons faith you have already lost. You are on the defense. It doesn't matter if you gather up verses and facts and knock them down to a count of three over and over, if you never reach their heart. It's as pointless as eating paper. It's a clanging gong. I know. I do it all of the time. Any victory you claim will not be the victory you wanted. I do know you can reach the heart of the mormon debater through prayer and patience and timing and love, lots of love. Ugh, sooo hard! But I'm inspired to think we can simply look to the amazing Jesus we so fortunately know. If we focus on an end goal of setting a heart free to be loved by Jesus wholly and completely unconditionally we will persevere. I really believe with a pure heart we will not err. Then we are wind chimes or a flute. Because Jesus didn't really seek indifferent people. He sought hungry people and his love was palpable. When he spoke, he lifted the heart, healed the body, nourished the person and he set them FREE. So I encourage my friend to love her Mormons for now and wait for them to get thirsty for Living Water.

Another friend has funny stuff happen. Her life is an amusing education to me. She lives in Jerusalem and hangs out with a bunch of ex-pats who are mostly Palestinian sympathizers and even has a Bible Study with several of them. So she has people try to lead her into convoluted debates which is torture for her. She hates to debate.  I think she has an advantage just being someone who dislikes conflict. I think it gives her the restraint to wait for the thing worth saying and I really admire how she channels Jesus and shows grace. She has plugged away for two years, sometimes gritting her teeth and sometimes wanting to lay in the floor and laugh hysterically for a release from the vise grip of conflict and verbal sparring. All this time she patiently sowed seeds of truth into each person who came into her life and asked God if this was the one she was to reach possibly even for the kingdom of Christ. I know there were two non-Christians she really hoped to reach. One time she even took some of her Bible Study friends to the Temple Mount Institute to see all of the things the Jewish people are making for when they rebuild the Temple and one lady asked four times why the Jewish people want a temple again since Jesus came.  She took each interaction seriously and one day she called me undecided on whether to reply to an email sent from a Palestinian sympathizer filled with biased propaganda. I think it's just crazy so I told her I'd just walk away. Why cast your pearls before swine? Right? From my limited vantage point it appears that she is dealing with hard hearted uninformed people opposed to Israel which is not even Biblical. Regardless of whether they are Christians, they appear to be missing out on a pretty fundamental piece of truth that could give their lives in Israel context and dimension. And it seems to me they are very deliberate in maintaining that doctrine. And that is where I err. I am so human indeed. After all her time there and confounding stories, I found her position so daunting I told her it sounded pointless. And then today... she told me that in the time she has been there... she's seen a softening a changing of heart in one of her Bible Study ladies and it was all confirmed just today. Yes she got to watch some scales fall off of a pair of eyes and it was EXCITING! She was already a Christian but all that time, regardless of what was perceived she was sifting through and searching for new truths. And that woman was the one I so scorned for asking why the Jews want to rebuild the temple. I felt so chastened. My friend said she felt blessed to know her time there had some spiritual impact for one person. She was used by God to open a window for someone to see more of Jesus and God's plan. Soon she will fly home from her grand adventure but she has patiently sown seeds of love and truth. I can see already that some has fallen on fertile ground. Honestly, that is all I aspire to be.

Halfway

On Friday as I bumbled along in the back seat with Bedford's head lolling over the seat we headed for Tel Aviv. It's funny that Israel is the size of New Jersey but yet they have such a variety of climates and landscapes. Tel Aviv is on the Mediterranean Sea so it's humid, green (when I was there anyway) and rather lush with more flat and rolling hills. Jerusalem is more hilly, rocky and an average humidity. So, we dropped off their horse at the doggy day care and he was thrilled. The boy and I cozied up for a long weekend in the back seat together.

Ashkelon was our lunch destination. It was pouring rain. Bart was worried about going to the desert during a deluge but Doug said we should go for it so we did and I'm glad even if everyone did suffer each in their own way. As the Bartletts like to say, during a lot of it "we had fun without having fun", the rest was fun or just crazy and unreal. In Ashkelon the recommended restaurant was closed so we went to "Meat Me". It was... good food and nobody spoke any english. They conveyed to us that they were searching for their english menu and we saw them search high and low to no avail. We finally ordered some beef and some chicken (the usual options in Israel) and he told us it would be $500. Doug dealt with it quickly asking how many zero's and he said one so my heart resumed beating. We sat down to eat. Doug felt compelled to take my picture in this clash of cultures with a rather alarming/disturbing phrase in the background though I daresay the Israeli's probably think it's clever and have no innuendo in mind... There were napkin dispensers from the 80's in America and a real live cigarette vending machine. I loved my lunch at "Meat Me" so much that I took several pictures.

We made a brief stop at the Mediterranean Sea but it was cold and windy so we picked up sea shells for my munchkins at home and skedaddled. 

After that we were back in the car pell mell and off to the border of Gaza just to say we went. We parked by the border and Doug and his mini me (Warren) rhapsodized over how close we were to Gaza and how we would all die if we crossed the border until Bart very calmly asked if we could leave. 

I think if she had known how the rest of our day would pan out she might not have bothered to feel any angst. It was to be the theme of her day. I was just a small child in the back seat without a care in the world kicking the seat in front of me and begging people to listen to my headphones with me so I really didn't add any gray hairs to my head. I guess it's not nice to brag. I guess I did join reality now and then to laugh like an imbecile and shrug my shoulders and wish for wifi so i could make nonsensical Facebook posts about my adventures on the border of Egypt and Gaza. Anyway, we got lost. We were headed for the desert to camp with the Bedouins and ride camels the next day but the Israeli version of Siri took us on a rather extensive off track tour of southern Israel. What eventually happened was we crossed over into a military zone, got stopped by a very scary looking humvee full of Israeli soldiers who wanted to know what we were doing. Since we were lost, we didn't really have to play the part we just acted dazed and confused which we were. They sent us packing and Bart forbade me from taking a picture of them which was torture. Ithink if she had known how the rest of our day would pan out she might not have bothered to feel any angst. It was to be the theme of her day. I was just a small child in the back seat without a care in the world kicking the seat in front of me and begging people to listen to my headphones with me so I really didn't add any gray hairs to my head. I guess it's not nice to brag. I guess I did join reality now and then to laugh like an imbecile and shrug my shoulders and wish for wifi so i could make nonsensical Facebook posts about my adventures on the border of Egypt and Gaza. Anyway, we got lost. We were headed for the desert to camp with the Bedouins and ride camels the next day but the Israeli version of Siri took us on a rather extensive off track tour of southern Israel. What eventually happened was we crossed over into a military zone, got stopped by a very scary looking humvee full of Israeli soldiers who wanted to know what we were doing. Since we were lost, we didn't really have to play the part we just acted dazed and confused which we were. They sent us packing and Bart forbade me from taking a picture of them which was torture. 

There's a little map of our tour though I really can't say where we went off track seeing as how I was oblivious most of the time. 

At one point we wound up in some kind of settlement behind a gate, unable to find our way back to any recognizable road. It was funny... well give me a break. I was a little kid kicking the seat. 

Finally after a harrowing drive through the desert in a deluge... Bart said we almost washed off of a bridge at one point... I was blissfully unaware... Doug got us to the place just in time for dinner. That was the best dinner of my freaking life after trekking back and forth from the car to the room through shin deep water with all of our luggage, pillows, blankets and sleeping bags. Sorry, no pictures. It would have been completely impossible, though it would have made a hilarious movie. 

Ahhhh dinner! Blessed amazing dinner!

We had tea by the fire and warmed up and tried to dry out a little. It was pretty magical. I'm still amazed at the lengths the Bartlett's all went to entertain me... little old me. 

The next day we had a lovely breakfast with what Harrison declared were the best eggs ever and many more sumptuous foods and teas. They had green tea and Bedouin tea. I liked the green tea personally. After breakfast and dinner both people staying there played music and sat around drinking tea and laughing. It's a very magical place. 

Here's what you saw right after you came out the door of our lodge.

 This is the restrooms but they're so pretty I had to take a pic. I was basically standing in the sunshine brushing my teeth.

This is the lodge we stayed in.

Yes, those tracks were right by the place we stayed the morning after the deluge!!! In the parking lot by our lodge. 

I'm outa juice. I keep stopping in the middle of a day. It bugs me. 

Part 3 The rainiest day of my trip!

God has a way of just twisting my heart when I am failing. I've been failing to blog my awesome trip. I don't know why I'm struggling to be a blogger nowadays. I think I'm so busy reading books, staring at my lovely Hazel's chubby cheeks and soft toes and giving people dirty looks when they tell me she isn't a baby anymore that I just think I have nothing more inside of me. But then God shows me something beautiful and twists my heart and I panic and run start typing.

This morning Bart sent me a link to an apartment for rent. It had pictures of the view of Jerusalem and tears started running down my face as I looked at something that shouldn't feel familiar and special enough for me to cry over but there I was... wondering if I'd ever see it again. Wondering if I savored it enough. Wondering if my husband or kids would ever see it. But mostly wondering why the hell I was crying over an apartment for rent in Israel.

http://www.jerusalemproperties.co.il/property/rental14.shtml

 On the rainiest day of my trip we went to the museum and the Shouk. The Shouk is a local market, not geared towards tourists. People buy their meat, produce, treats, spices, pottery etc... there. I bought some Halva which is a pretty yummy mediterranean treat. It's a combination of ground sesame seeds, honey and other ingredients. I also bought a juicer but pomegranates are out of season in America right now so it's just kind of collecting dust. It seemed like a good idea at the time... I should have bought saffron but I didn't.

Eden was particularly fascinated by an open market and requested many videos. I should have had Bart being Vanna White with stuff more. That's the best part of these cheesy videos.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TIq-Ww-BRhQ

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ve2gsZPkuok

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j2XghQ3DzMs

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K_c_MX4X8k0

The museum was... full of incredible artifacts and overwhelming. Our legs ran out of energy and our brains went into system overload before we were half done. Coffee was a great solution. The worst part was that I was sick of taking pictures and failed to take pictures of the amazing roman and greek sculptures there. The best part was that I did see the Dead Sea Scrolls which was wonderful but there was this mean little old man in there who would shriek every time I tried to take a picture which really just baked my cookies. If you don't want people to take pictures, post a sign, don't have a crazy little man shrieking at people like a cuckoo in Hebrew. Here's the best pic I sneaked.

The worst part through all of this was the rain. Jenny cut bangs for me right before I left and they were pasted to my forehead the entire time I was there. Sigh. We felt it was worth documenting with a "we are soaked to the bone permanently and our bangs are awful" expression. I texted it to Jenny who always looks perfect and she told us we looked great. Uh, yeah. Ok...

The next day we left for the desert. The entire Bartlett family and me. It was a rather hilarious and wonderful trip. I sat in the back of Barts car with her boys feeling like a small child. I watched them play a terrible pirate game on their ipads and listened to my ipod with my headphones all the while wondering where we were and how far we had to go. It was a bit like being a kid again... I had forgotten how that felt! It's good to get in touch with your inner child sometimes.

There is no way I will document all of that day right now... Soon.

Part 1 My Trip

When I was seven, I had sticky gooey hands, long scraggly fingernails and stains on every garment I owned. I drove my sister crazy. If a person had held my sticky hand and looked into my eyes and said "stop borrowing your sisters clothes and staining them, she's going to stand by you through some pretty crazy situations and you need to keep her on your good side" I might not have taken the advice but I know I would have believed the speaker. I always knew my sister would ride the roller coaster of life with me. I took that for granted. It was a vague nameless assurance in my heart. When I was 19 I was a slightly plump, aimless and sometimes blonde, sometimes not office girl. I wore borderline inappropriate clothes to my job at an engineering firm and had no plan for my future. If a person had grabbed my arm one pretty spring day that year and pointed at Jody as he stood at the front desk waiting for his job interview and said "he's going to ride the roller coaster with you and you'll have four kids together within the next 12 years", I don't think I would have believed such a forecast quite so surely. But alas, what we foresee never comes and what we never could have imagined does. Which brings me to the incongruous story of my trip to Israel. Through mutual acquaintances I became friends with Jen Bartlett about two years ago. My first definitive memory is sitting in the salon at Jenny's house having my hair done for the spring gala at school. Bart popped in from next door with little hair clips all over her head of wet hair and chatted us up. We discussed what we were going to wear and I darkly asked her if Jenny had already told her I was pregnant. Her face is always an open book so I had the amusing experience of dropping a bomb on her that ricocheted into a million expressions. I'll never forget it. I'll never forget the reactions of every single person I told I was pregnant with Hazel though so I guess that time of my life is crystalized in my memory for ever. Now, if at that point a person had told me that Bart and her husband Doug would someday fly me to Israel and give me the experience of a lifetime just for kicks I certainly would have thought they were crazy. But that's exactly what happened. She had moved to Israel for Doug's work when one day she said "would you ever consider coming to visit?" I said "yes, when Jody finally wins the lottery we'll be on the next flight." She laughed and said "no seriously, if Doug could get you a ticket with airline miles would you come?" I screamed and told her she had to be kidding me of course I would come. She kept asking me if I really meant it and if I was sure so I finally settled down enough to say that I guessed I had better talk to Jody. I found out later why she didn't believe me when I said yes. All of her family and two friends had already declined her invitation. I was stonewalled. I could not believe these people. Of course all of them had been on international trips and they knew what all of the trade offs of international travel were. I, on the other hand was a novice. So, Jody agreed to let me go without hesitation because he loves me like nobody knows how to except him. They invited him as well and at one point I thought he would come with me but then he decidedly declined... just like all of those other people much to my amazement. I like to think that many people declined because they thought it would be impolite to accept the free plane ticket. Maybe they didn't want to be ingratiating. I still find it all puzzling but fortunate for ME! I will admit, there were some difficult moments, weaning Hazel and tearing myself away from her made me cry quite a bit, but something just pushed me through it telling me it was now or never. So, the girl who's seen the ocean once got a passport and hopped on a big jet airplane. I got the best seats in coach because Doug flies all of the time and he bought my ticket. I was so excited I was like a little child. When our plane took off from my Newark connection I looked out my window and practically squealed to the flight attendant "Is that the Statue of Liberty????!!!!" He gave me a tolerant smile and said "yes it is." I was over the moon! A little bonus to my trip I hadn't even thought of. That flight was 6,000 miles. It flew by though. I slept some, read some and boom I was already landing in Tel Aviv. The world was lush, green and beautiful with the Mediterranean Sea glowing blue. I came to the meeting area and there was Bart. She told me later she realized she was about to cry just waiting and hoping I hadn't bailed at the last second (a ridiculous notion). And there they were with my welcome sign, immediately buying me coffee. They pumped me with so much coffee the first two days I was vacillating between arrhythmia and incontinence.

We got into their car and headed straight for Jerusalem. It's about an hour away. Bart and I were like little teenagers sitting in the back calling Doug our driver. I thought I was so funny that day but after being in about 30 taxis in my ten days there, I realized it isn't all that sensational to sit in the back seat and tell a driver to take you somewhere. (more on taxis later!) So we went straight to the Old City and walked through the market where Doug made me try my first fresh squeezed pomegranate juice. Amazing and unforgettable. Then we went down the Via Dolorosa. It was amazing. We saw the jail cell where Jesus was held. A very sobering and real moment for me. I was later to discover that it's simply amazing that it's still there because the entire city has been built on top of several times over. And significant locations almost all have churches built on top of them with little or no access to the actual place. It's a strange thing to go to an old part of the world; to see ruins where something beautiful was destroyed just to make a point and then built on top of and hidden for thousands of years. After that they took me out to lunch. And this was when I realized I wasn't just going to pal around with Jen and hang out with her and see what it's like to live in Jerusalem. They wined and dined me and I still have no idea why but it was impossible to say no. It was incredible and amazing and unforgettable. I had the time of my life. This was the lunch at the Moroccan restaurant. It was a five course meal. After that we went home and ran Harrison to his guitar lesson. I got to meet his teacher and his wife walked down to a cafe with us for coffee. Then we walked to the old city and sat in an outdoor amphitheater and watched the history of Jerusalem in holograms on the buildings in the dark. I loved it. I am amazed just retelling this that I've been blogging for an hour and have only gotten through one day. We tried to get a taxi on the way home but Bart was just waving down random cars instead of taxis so we wound up walking. LOL!