It Became Real
I didn’t want to go.
Sure, the thought of visiting the birthplace of the gospel fascinated me, but the process of getting there left me feeling a bit wary.
Previous travel experience consisted of long van rides and a handful of hours spent in flight.
This trip would require being airborne overnight, navigating multiple connections, and planning outfits for all types of weather, for two weeks.
Now I’m not a multiple outfit-a-day kind of girl but I am the pack in advance type… so this assignment felt daunting.
My greatest concern… I had never stepped foot out of my seat while trapped in a metal flying contraption.
Did they make diapers that absorbent?
Why hasn’t anyone perfected Star Trek beaming technology?
The internal chatter prevented me from actually preparing my heart for what I was about to experience.
Fear and a desire for comfort outweighed my willingness to get excited.
After nearly a year of anxious anticipation, the time had come.
I plastered a smile on my face as I stepped on the bus to greet everyone.
While listening to the animated conversation of my fellow travelers, my internal monologue began to dissolve and I attempted to engage.
During dinner, I established my role as the group researcher. If someone had a query, I would put google to work and figure out the answer.
The next afternoon, we ran the length of the airport to catch our connecting flight. After being pulled aside for a search that led to broken spectacles, I felt exhausted and slightly exhilarated when we finally boarded the plane.
About an hour into the flight, my need for the facilities became apparent.
“Moment of truth,” I whispered. “I’m boldly going, well, you know…”
I was lost in thought, as I walked the length of the aircraft, careful not to draw attention.
I hurriedly made contingency plans for either getting locked in the confined space or better yet, sucked into the night sky.
Thankfully, neither of those wild scenarios played out and I gratefully navigated the narrow aisle back to my husband’s side.
Sleep on that flight was elusive, so upon landing in Tel Aviv, I felt miserable - combine that with motion sickness sustained on the bus… I was a mess by the time we arrived at our hotel.
Nevertheless, a shower, followed by a good night’s sleep worked wonders to improve my physical distress.
Armed with a positive attitude and a pocket full of Dramamine, I boarded the bus the following morning, determined to make the most of this experience.
Our guide, a man of Jewish descent, was knowledgeable on the subject matter and rattled off information for hours.
He taught us phrases in Arabic to greet and express thanks to our driver. Our group buzzed with excitement during each stop, eager to gain insight into the life of Christ.
On day three or four, we visited a church in Cana of Galilee.
This special excursion allowed couples to renew wedding vows or spend time worshiping with the locals.
Our group opted for the latter and found seats in the sanctuary to prepare for the service.
Teenagers filled the narrow stage and began singing in their native language. Some melodies were familiar, so we lifted our voices as well.
I sat in awe, with tears flowing, as a group of young, often persecuted Christ-followers, worshiped with abandon.
It was the most beautiful expression of praise I had ever witnessed.
In the location believed to be the site of Jesus’ first miracle, God chose to speak peace over my weary spirit.
Suddenly, it became real!
As our journey continued, I began watching the members of our group. I made a mental note of their reactions to the places and people we encountered.
What I discovered is that the impact of Jesus’ ministry came to life for each of them, at different locations.
For some, it was the Garden of Gethsemane,
for others, tears fell as we viewed the cave of Jesus birth, or placed prayers in the Wailing Wall,
for some, their moment of reckoning came as they were baptized in the Jordan River.
The overwhelming emotion in walking the way of the cross, or mounting the temple steps, or simply singing of God’s greatness while sailing the waters where Jesus called his disciples…
By the time we arrived at the empty tomb, our hearts couldn’t help but pour out adoration and praise.
The stories I learned as a child no longer contain images conjured in my imagination.
As the Lord scraped away blinders, He replaced a year of selfishness and worry, with an altered perspective and a humble heart.
The revelation of God’s master plan shattered my limited comprehension of my Savior. I had been given a unique gift, a rare opportunity to share in His footsteps.
God’s word, had in fact, become flesh…
IT BECAME REAL!
“Though he was God, he did not think of equality with God as something to cling to. Instead, he gave up his divine privileges; he took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being. When he appeared in human form, he humbled himself in obedience to God and died a criminal’s death on a cross. Therefore, God elevated him to the place of highest honor and gave him the name above all other names, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth,and every tongue declare that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” (Philippians 2:6-11, NLT)
As we travel through this Holy Week, dear reader, may we ask God to become real in our lives as we unite to boldly proclaim that
