Climbin’ & Floatin’

Climbin’ Masada and Floatin’ in the Dead Sea.

Masada is a mountain-top fortress and palace of yore. The only way up/down in those times (which of course is how WE went up/down) is what’s called the “Snake Path”. Not because there are snakes on it, but because it is like a long, windy, switchback-ey snake itself. Oh, and it goes straight up. Herod built Masada as one of his strongest defenses, and it withstood the test – but not to protect Herod. It was the last stand of the Jewish forces against Rome. It fell to Rome in 73 A.D., three years after the Temple fell in Jerusalem. Outlines of the original Roman camps surrounding it for a months-long siege are still visible to this day – the best preserved ones around. They are phenomenal. And once on the hilltop, there is time to reflect on the 900 or so people that took their own lives the night before Rome succeeded in their siege, because they chose death over slavery.



The Dead Sea is just below Masada, so naturally a relaxing float would follow the climb. We decided it feels like sitting in a vat of baby oil – and as you might guess, it’s hard to decide whether that’s a good or bad thing as you float around. But it’s quite a fascinating experience no matter how many times you’ve done it before. It is absolutely impossible to not float, because your body has more water in it than the “sea”. We also found some of the mineral mud and the pictures are available for your entertainment.



We leave Israel tomorrow night, and can only be grateful for our time here. Not just in seeing parts of this amazing Land, but also exulting in the time with Wendy and her mom. We’ve had such fun sharing life through work and play – and pastries!

Nothing new

I’m not going to pretend this is some new and phenomenal realization, but these last few weeks I’ve really been struck with how “serving” is still so often about ourselves. For me, this has come out because I’ve asked myself whether I’m finding pleasure in serving because a) it’s actually with a heart for the person I’m trying to serve, or b) it’s because it makes me feel like I’m “accomplishing a goal”. Even this morning as I was reading in Matthew, I was struck by the disciples’ argument about who would be first, where they would sit in the kingdom, etc. The Son told them to get where they wanted they had to be servants to all. But he still knew their motivation was “If I put myself last now, I’ll be first later.” Haven’t we all had that thought at one time or another? Which, of course, means we’re really not putting ourselves last at all … just delaying what we still hope for as first place. So, this made me think again about the bottom-line of existing to bring Glory to the Father. To “bring glory” is not something I readily grasp – it’s not a phrase I use in other parts of life. But one of the definitions I once read did help me a bit with the tangibility of this idea – to “bring glory” is to do what I/we can to protect/honor/uphold another’s reputation. A reputation is something I can wrap my mind around a bit more. And so I came to the beginning of a conclusion … simply that I have been starting with incomplete questions. Do I do what I do to uphold the reputation of my Creator? Right now I can’t say that I even hold this question consciously before me often enough to say “yes” …

Hmmm, He really does …

Yes, we know that our Father guides our footsteps, but every now and then He provides reminders to really know that to be true. This is one of those times for me. When we were first planning this trip, we went back and forth about whether to include a stop here in Israel, particularly with everything going on with Hezbollah. We opted to leave it out of the itinerary until about two days before we bought our flight tickets, when I (Brooke) realized that I had left my dear friend, Wendy, out of the equation. I must admit I dismissed the idea that a visit to my strong, independent friend would be anything but a selfishly enjoyable time. But the Father lovingly chided my heart and prompted us to add Israel back onto the itinerary. His timing could not be more evident. It has been the selfishly enjoyable time I expected, as my heart has simply rejoiced to be with Wendy and back in this Land. But it’s more, too … He knew that my Wendy would need some good friends this week - reminders of His grace and the freedom that comes with that; reasons to laugh and play and be distracted from tears. She left her job this week (her last day was Monday), which is never an easy choice and comes with a whole new set of decisions. Her mom is here this week, too, and we’ve all marveled at the Father’s coordination. He knew. He cares about the details … He really does.

Dirt, sweat and really old stuff

The day after my birthday Brooke and I joined the IBEX crew (a study abroad program through The Master’s College) to help with an archeological dig in the City of David just outside of the Old City Walls of Jerusalem. Yeah, we were sifting through dirt that is believed to be where David’s palace was - just off the Kidron valley. Now I realize that for some of you back breaking work moving dirt around doesn’t sound real enjoyable. But when you realize that you might be touching an artifact that people all the way back to David’s time period may have touched it makes the work go easier. We found hundreds of pieces of clay pots, and dozens of small square mosaic stones used for making floors in homes. I found a horseshoe that our supervisor thinks would have been worn by a donkey. The square next to us found women’s jewelry and a coin. They also found the first artifact that the “dig” feels it can date to the second temple time period. This would be after the temple was destroyed the first time but before it was destroyed again by the Romans in 70 A.D. After the dig, Brooke and I walked around Jerusalem. We spent time at the Second Temple Excavations and at the Western Wall, then walked through the Jewish Quarter. When you realize that you are looking at stones from the original temple that Solomon built, when you see the stone rubble from when the Romans tore the temple down what you have read and believed takes on a visual reality of dare I say Biblical Proportion.



As I was standing at the Wailing Wall, touching the stones and praying, it struck me how thankful I was that the beginning started here at the temple, but didn’t end here. That Yahweh called us all, not just the Jews, and that he freed us from the burden of the Jewish Law through His Son. I am thankful for spiritual roots deep in Jerusalem, and thankful that those roots lead to the heart of He who redeemed us.

Getting Older in a Place that knows all about OLD.

So I turned 30 the other day. Hey I know I still look like I should be finishing college, but thirty is what I am. My brother told me I couldn’t hide from it even if I left the states, and he was right. 30; it sounds so old. Don’t get me wrong, plenty of you reading this are far older than me … (My pastor who only looks 35ish is easily 70 years old, my wise father who gained wisdom with age, my older brother who is by very definition “older”) … but for me it’s 3 decades of life that leave me feeling a little contemplative. The Father has given me a significant portion of years and I wonder what I have done with it? It’s the hay, straw, silver and gold question. What of my life to date would burn away, and what would withstand the fire of His holiness? I know the basis of my life is not founded on works, yet “life” by definition implies an active, carried out thing. So what have I carried out so far? What have you?

Then, just when I thought 30 was old I went to Caesarea and walked along the ruins of the great port that Herod built. It was in this city that Cornelius the Centurion called Peter to his household (Acts 12?). This is where Paul stood witness before Festus and Agrippa (Acts 24-26). This is old. 2000 years old. It’s hard to explain how something like this hits you, it comes gradually. At first is the impending excitement, “I’m going to see something really old.” Then the awe of knowing that this is where the stories took place. Then the disillusioning, “cool, but is that it?”. Finally a steady contemplativeness that realizes His Word is accurate and historical, and a thankfulness that He would allow me to spend time here seeking His face in the ruins of many centuries.

On my Birthday Brooke took me to Old Jaffa. This is the city where Peter was staying with Simon the Tanner when he received the invitation from the centurion in Caesarea. After walking through this village we went to a local beach near Tel Aviv and relaxed together for a while. The day was beautiful and the water of the Mediterranean was cool but not cold. Thanks for each of you who wished me a happy birthday, it was much appreciated.