ISRAEL

Everything is real!
The Bible is coming alive with every breath I take in Jerusalem. It’s real. It’s all real and I am here to live among it during Holy Week. I am walking where Jesus walked. I am touching what He touched. Tomorrow is Good Friday and I am in the land where my Savior was crucified.
I wonder how I got here. Sitting through the suns good morning in a garden of life’s vibrancies in Jerusalem. On Good Friday.
I wonder how I got here. Walking through the hills of history following the footsteps of a Savior bruised and broken on the path to my redemption.
I wonder how I got here. I wonder why God picked me, or perhaps I picked him? To guide me through His gates all the way to His arms of grace.
I wonder how I got here today, but often I wonder why I am still here.

The Reality of Real
The reality of real never ceases to appease the doctor and diseased, children and deceased, famine and the feast. A land of real, a land to feel, a land all wish to hold and steal. Its taste will leave you longing, its teeth will leave you bleeding for the day of return or a sun that never burns. Ashes without urns, desire without the yearn, truth without the learn.

On Good Friday, I don’t know what to feel. The church of the Holy Sepulcher was a display of beautiful religion but I couldn’t help but feel disconnected, out of place and even barricaded from the spiritual experience I anticipated. The gold, jewels, glass, and stone is beyond impressive to human eyes but it did nothing to my heart and soul but stir my hands to take action with my camera. I can’t help but feel contradiction in what Jesus stood for and represented and the building that not stands to honor and worship Him at His tomb. The people of utter devotion and sincere obedience pressed up against me from all sides were the ones I left moved by-not the service. Watching people poor out perfume and oil, kiss stones, lay down jewelry and money, through tears of awe and wails of surrender are visuals I will never forget.

JORDAN

Food poisoning has almost been the death of me the last two days, so besides a revitalizing day at a resort along the Dead Sea outside of Amman, I have nothing to say except do not drink fresh strawberry juice from the sun baked barrel of strawberries on the streets of Syria :( EVER.

RECENT TANGENTS I find myself discussing:

I don’t want to try to fix people, I want to live a life that empowers people to fix themselves.

You can be an evangelist for many things, what do you evangelize? Are you aware of it? How often are you motives central to your own personal desires and dreams rather than the well being of others?

I cannot expect others to live and think the same way that I do simply because they have not had the same experiences as I have had. As basic as the concept may sound it is one I often dismiss into judgment, frustration, and even arrogance.

How much of your life is about you? A humbling question I instantly felt myself squirm over because I know the answer is not what it should be.

We live everyday with baggage of injustice, but we also live everyday with opportunities to be involved.

As Americans it is easy to skim over Christ’s command to love you enemies because more often than not we claim to not have any real enemies. In my experiences I can say that just as holders of a United States passport, you have enemies. You have enemies all over the world. Some stem from western power and affluence, some towards the privilege of knowing English as a first language, some solely because of our invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan, and some out of pure ignorance to the diverse public opinion in North America. Another way to look at the enemy notion is through the understanding that your enemies are who you are most mad at. That surely doesn’t let anyone off the hook as we would like.

SYRIA

We crossed the border at midnight and drove through rain and darkness to Hama where we slept for a few hours before continuing our drive to Damascus. Hama was the ground for a serious massacre led by the government in 00000000 On the way we stopped at the world’s oldest crusader castle still intact, Saint Takla’s monastery, and then an Aramaic speaking village (one of the languages that Jesus spoke). There are only 3 Aramaic speaking villages left in the world, and we visited the only one where Christians are largely represented among the Muslims, the other two are predominately Muslim inhabitants. The bishop who spoke to us there radically changed my life. He first explained the iconography in the monastery and the intricate meaning behind each picture. Then he spoke about the saints, specifically Mary, and how they are used as spiritual guides, because after all if Mary really is Jesus’ mother she must be of significant wisdom. This is not to say that she should be worshipped as an equal to God but I think the bishop put it beautifully when he said that she can do for us exactly what she is doing in all of the iconographies- pointing to Jesus. We all gathered in the church which is in a cave on the mountain overlooking the village and he recited the Lord’s Prayer in Aramaic. The prayer was the most beautiful spoken sound I have ever heard and imagine ever will. Words cannot suffice for explaining how touched and emotional I felt from the inner depths of my soul all the way to the outer flesh of my being from the simple prayer I have heard a hundred times.
The Old City of Damascus has a kind of charm that will stamp itself on your heart. Arguably in the run for my favorite city in the world.

TURKEY

Istanbul is a gorgeous city that serves as a bridge between the East and the West in culture, consumerism, and character. It is a fascinating picture of transformation, western influence, economic growth and also significant controversy. I am amazed at the remains of the Ottoman Empire and its roots that have yet to be dug up in dialogue. I am overwhelmed with the history of Ataturk, a single man who successfully stripped his country of eastern culture to introduce western behavior for economic increase. After meeting with journalists, political leaders, human rights activists, religious leaders, and interacting with shopkeepers and students I found my mind blown into a million questions and possibilities for Turkey’s future. Ferry trips along the Bosporus watching palaces and castles pass by, Turkish karaoke; used book stores and decadent food and fashion were daily perks. It was only natural to fall deeply in love with Istanbul, promising to return despite (and maybe in spite of) the complexity of its politics.