Miracles by the Sea

Part of the Honeymoon of the Heart series, originally published October 3, 2012

It's just after 10 p.m. on Wednesday in Bethlehem, and the end of our third full day in the land. The plan for today was to load up into the bus and go to the Jordanian Embassy in Tel Aviv, get passports, then head to the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, ending our day with the International Day of Prayer for the Peace of Jerusalem. Well, that kind of happened...kind of.

We loaded up early and went to Tel Aviv. Normally most people might mail in their passports to try to get visas, but since we have five different countries represented on our team, it was easier just to travel as a group in case any one person had problems. I am SO glad we did this, as I learned that (a) Tel Aviv is much more cosmopolitan than Jerusalem or Bethlehem, and (b) Tel Aviv is the modern name for the ancient city of Ninevah. Located right on the Mediterranean sea, this is the city where Jonah got coughed up by a fish. Wow!

Driving to the Embassy we saw the oh-so-beautiful Mediterranean Sea. It was oh-my-goodness beautiful! But, we had to stay on task and were happy to admire it through the moving bus windows. On to the Embassy...

We go there and none of us speak Arabic. The little man with the VERY big gun standing guard was no amused by our game of Gringo Charades. Finally, we managed to piece together a good enough mime act (incorporating the four words we collectively knew) and somehow gained entrance to the office.

Long story short--of the five countries, only three were allowed easy entrance into Jordan. The official told us there was "not any way" one of our African pastors would be able to get in--the visa would take two months."

But, what if we rush it?

If we rush it, then it will take minimum two weeks.

Are you sure there's no way?

... On and on the conversation went, until somehow the pastor in charge of the trip and the Jordanian official were joking about camels (BTW, I found out camels are VERY expensive and the dude that was offering 200 camels for me was making a 20-Million-dollar offer. Maybe we should consider it.)

THEN, the official said, "Well, there is one way...but just ONE." But, we would have to pay and come back in three hours.

Darn. Now we have to spend three hours in Tel Aviv instead of going straight back to Jerusalem. What to do, what to do? Well....we ended up back at the Mediterranean Sea, and after a lamb-loaf-burger lunch I tiptoed through the sand, hiked up my mama-go-to-meeting skirt, and played in the surf. It was delightful! We took pictures, splashed, and frolicked on the beach...that is, when we were not getting photo bombed by a particular 18-year-old with a Flava-flav-sized gold chain or a Chewbacca-hairy big man in a small Speedo! What silliness, laughter, and fun!

Back to the Embassy, we retrieved our passports and were headed back to Jerusalem to attend the International Day of Prayer for Peace. It was a really great service, and will be aired on a few Christian TV channels this Sunday. Please watch it if you get a chance. (Google it.)

At the prayer service I just sat back and waited and asked God to show me what He wanted me to see in it all. It was truly beautiful to see Christians, Jews, and Christian Arabs all come together and pray for peace in this place that means so much to each people group. A high-ranking rabbi stood up and passionately spoke against extremist activity at a local Christian church, and apologized on behalf of his faith. It was beautiful to see everyone stand together and worship the God of Abraham. It was beautiful to hear them sings songs of praise and thanksgiving to the I AM in the City of David.

Lastly, tonight I got a short first visit to the refugee camp. I am so thankful God has provided this opportunity. I was telling the others in the car with me (coming home from the refugee camp) that my husband and I have both visited a precious village in Africa and fallen in love wiht it and with the people there, but as I pray about these "orphaned" peope without a homeland it hurts my heart and makes me think that the refugees might have it even worse than the Ugandan villigers we so dearly love. The kids in the village go get a mango or a cob of corn when they are hungry. They feed monkeys in the morning and play soccer in the afternoon. Life is hard, but there are sweet pockets of happiness and hope. The refugees, on the other hand, feel like they have no hope. They have no rights of citizenship, they have very, very limited opportunity. They may not move out of the camp; there is nowhere else they can go. They live in proximity to all the conveniences of modern day life, but have access to none. Instead, they watch others flouirsh and grow, knowing they won't get that chance.

Jihad recently finished nursing school but is has not yet been able to find a job because there is a stigma to being a refugee. Driving him back to the camp tonight, one of team mentioned the two of them building a hotel together so the American could stay there for free when he comes back to visit.

The friend-become-brother said, "A hotel? No, Jihad would want a nursing home instead." Jihad's response broke my heart:

"Don't make me dream," he said. "Dreams hurt too much."

Praying for my new friend and the thousands like him...that they will meet and be forever-wowed by the one who is able to do increasingly more than we could ask or imagine.

Praying for the peace of Jerusalem,

--R