Whisked Away

Part 3 of Honeymoon of the Heart, a 2012 trip to the land called "Holy"

Invited on this Honeymoon of the Heart with my cobbled-together airline points plane ticket, my 32-hours of travels took me through London Heathrow where I spent the 12-hour layover night in an airport Burger King, Vienna for a quick plane change, and finally to Tel Aviv. Once we entered Israeli airspace the tone changed on the plane. As is a normal security measure in that country, everyone was instructed to remain seated and buckled for the remainder of the flight. Aside from the thoughts of why nobody was allowed to stand up in Israeli airspace (conflict, generations of fighting, general ill-will that cause rules like this to exist), all I could think about was landing, finding my ride, and the promise of a hotel bed following a hot, cleansing shower. I knew Pastor Lisa would send someone to the airport to meet me, but beyond that my only plan was to sleep.

Exiting the plane in the land called “Holy,” and after passing various forms of security and questions about where I was going (Jerusalem), where I was staying (King David Hotel), and why I was there (Feast of the Tabernacles), I was allowed into the country without much pause. (Later, I found out that was because I had my tired words wrong, and I was actually staying at the Mount David Hotel in the West Bank, which indeed may have caused pause, but I digress….)

Exiting the secure area and wondering how I’d find my ride, my wonders were soon put very well to rest. Standing there just outside the security exit was Pastor Lisa and a friend, holding a sign that said “Rebecca” and a bouquet of flowers as big as the Israeli sun shining through the windows. It was a welcome party for a VIP, and the quite poetic, it occurred to me, that I would be given flowers as the very first thing on this Honeymoon that Lisa and friends knew nothing about.

“Welcome, Rebecca,” they greeted me with a smile and enveloping hug. As we walked to the waiting car and after hearing about my flights, they informed me we’d go to the hotel, have about 15 minutes to freshen up (?!) and then had a celebration to attend. “I want to show you something,” the invitation from my January prayer rang in my heart, reminding me of the motivation for this trip. “Trust me.”

Setting tiredness aside, I purposed in my heart that if I could do 32 hours of travel, a few more hours of meeting, greeting, and celebrating could happen, too.

As we left Tel Aviv and drove to our hotel, the Mount David in Bethlehem (not the five-star King David in Jerusalem, contrary to what I’d mistakenly told the immigration officer), I drank in every sight. Passing mile after mile of stone-colored buildings, all blending into the mountainsides, the Mediterranean Sea, Mount Moriah where, my host told me, Abraham had taken Isaac to sacrifice him, and the security screenings to enter the West Bank…my heart, mind and spirit were sparking with awe, wonder, anticipation, and the eagerness of surprises or “something” yet to be revealed.

I’d arrived, been loved, given flowers, and now I was being whisked away to celebrate something. With about seven words of Arabic between us and armed only with the knowledge that we were looking for a meeting building somewhere behind a gas station in Bethlehem, we were on our way. I really didn’t know if we’d even find the place, so there’s no way I could have known what we’d find when we arrived.

On this Honeymoon of the Heart, in this land called “Holy.”