removing the leaven

Pesach, or "Passover" as most Christians would know it, is a Jewish holiday that started last Wednesday and ends tomorrow. It is the commemoration of God's miraculous deliverance of the children of Israel out of slavery in Egypt. It has been a true blessing to be here during this time. To be able to celebrate by sharing same traditional meal with my friends that Jesus shared with His disciples on the eve of becoming our Passover Lamb makes it even more special.

I didn't know exactly what to expect this week. I honestly didn't think it would affect everyday life as much as it has. I probably experienced more than most aliens here because my office is on the edge of Mea Shearim—the Ultra Orthodox neighborhood where the men dress in black suits and wear black hats and earlocks and are not allowed to speak to non-Orthodox women. First there was the smoke from the fires. On Preparation Day, they remove all leaven and anything that has leaven from the house and burn it. We're talking major spring cleaning here! Then there are the loudspeaker announcements ringing out over the neighborhoods, reminding everyone to do this or do that in order to keep everything kosher.

And then there was the grocery store. I went on Tuesday last and was amazed. They cover up anything with leaven in it with big sheets of opaque plastic. It's not just removing bread from the store; it's covering stuff like cereal, grains, flour, cookies, frozen breaded chicken, frozen pizza, most alcoholic beverages, and, much to my dismay, all of my favorite ice creams. I can't figure that one out. All of the usual fare at the bakeries have disappeared and been replaced with interesting alternatives. Actually, I was in this one bakery as they were bringing out pizza and it looked good, so I decided to give it a go. Let's just say that just because something LOOKS like pizza doesn't necessarily mean that it TASTES like pizza. It was truly disgusting. I have no idea how they made it. I don't really want to know.

I hadn't realized how dependent I had become on the nearby falafel stand and Big Apple Pizza for lunch, until they closed for the week. Now before you go getting all judgemental on my unhealthy lunch choices, I'll let you know that I have to walk back to the office up this massive hill (what hill in Jerusalem isn't massive??), so I feel okay about a slice of cheese pizza for lunch. Okay, the falafel place isn't that far away, but at least I still have to walk there and back. And I walk to and from work. And to and from almost everywhere else as well. But I digress. I think the point I was trying to make is that it has definitely been an unusual week. It hasn't helped that I've been designing a page with an article about our daily bread. Seven pictures of scrumptuous looking bread making my mouth water every day...

But the most surprising thing of all is what happened last Saturday. My friend Hanna came over for dinner and a movie and we made homemade pizza and had some of the cookies that I had baked earlier that day. When it was time for her to go, she took some of the leftover pizza and cookies with her. She had to drop off the car for her dad who was working at Bikur Cholim, a local orthodox hospital, and when security searched her bag at the door, they found the food and confiscated it. Seriously.

And I thought they were only looking for weapons!

my comfort

The LORD is my light and my salvation—
whom shall I fear?
The LORD is the stronghold of my life—
of whom shall I be afraid?
When evil men advance against me
to devour my flesh,
when my enemies and my foes attack me,
they will stumble and fall.
Though an army besiege me,
my heart will not fear;
though war break out against me,
even then will I be confident.
One thing I ask of the LORD,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple.
For in the day of trouble
he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle
and set me high upon a rock.
Psalm 27:1-5

There was another suicide bombing today in Tel Aviv. It was the deadliest attack in two years, killing nine and wounding about forty people. And the Palestinian government applauded the action. Why? Why? Why? I don't get it and it just makes me want to kick and scream.

In these entries, I usually try to present the upbeat, positive side to life here. I'm not in denial; the fact is that I don't want the people who love me to worry about me. But the reality is that Jerusalem is on high alert right now and has been since the week before I came back. Security is out in full force; extra guards, extra soldiers, extra police, extra undercover agents. But MY reality is that I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that God has called me to be here in this place, at this time. Would it be safer to live somewhere outside of His will? I don't think so.

Am I afraid to be here? No. A resounding "No." My heart is saddened and heavy to see the coming storm; but that just makes me pray all the more; and it makes me love and trust Jesus all the more. The Word of God is my security; Psalm 27 is my comfort. I will follow Him, or my life will not be worth living.

I am still confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the LORD
in the land of the living.
Wait for the LORD;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the LORD.
Psalm 27:13-14

Pray for the Peace of Jerusalem.
Please.

Easter Sunday

Today was cold and rainy—drizzling mostly, about half the temperature that it was on Friday. I had agreed to meet my friend Trystan and his roommate Zach at the Damascus Gate so that we could venture over to the Mount of Olives and I was determined that a little precipitation wasn't going to stand in my way. We walked to the Garden of Gethsemane at the base of the mountain, and it was just beautiful. I was so awestruck as I was stood there looking at the sealed Beautiful Gate of the Old City on my right, the Kidron Valley stretching out in front of me and the Mount of Olives towering up to my left.

I can barely comprehend how my life has been shaped and moulded by events that happened right here almost two thousand years ago and how all of that shaping and moulding is preparing me for events yet to come, when Jesus will set His foot down on that very mountain and it will be split in two and living water will flow out to all nations from His throne. I'm so glad that we went there today. I wish I could truly describe it; what comes to mind is the Alpha and Omega—the beginning and the ending. It felt like this is where it all began and where it will all end, yet I know that life here began way before Jesus came, and that life will go on for Eternity. Maybe the beginning I felt was the start of Redemption; and the ending will be that of sin and a fallen world. In this place where history and the future will soon collide, I am trapped in the present, so thankful for the past and so hopeful for the future.


There in the Garden, there are these amazing olive trees that they say were there in Jesus' day. From the size of the trunk on this one, I don't doubt it a bit. I don't know how a tree can seem so alive, but I could imagine it weeping with Jesus as He prayed there and I could almost feel it waiting in eager expectation for the coming glory (Romans 8:19).

It started raining much harder as we were leaving and I thought for sure I was going to have a heart attack climbing the hill to Lion's Gate to get back into the Old City. But I didn't and we meandered our way through part of the Arab Quarter, hoping to go up on the Temple Mount. Today came crashing in on us as we learned that the Mount was closed for the day because of possible trouble with some Jews planning to go up there. Back to reality and the turmoil that hovers over the land like a dark cloud. It makes me even more thankful for those supernatural rays of sunlight that break though in places like the Garden where you can truly experience the peace of God in the midst of it all.

Zach left us at Jaffa Gate and Trystan and I decided to do the "Ramparts Walk". If you pay ten Shekels, you can walk on top of the Old City walls and get a bit more of a bird's eye view of the new and the old and lots of other stuff as well, like this basketball court on top of one of the buildings in the Old City. For some odd reason, I just never expected to see a basketball court in the Old City.


This evening we went to church at a congregation called "King of Kings" which is located up by the souk. It was a really good service and I couldn't stop singing "Amazing Love" as I walked all the way home in the rain. It was probably one of the most enjoyable walks I've ever experienced here. "Amazing love, how could it be, that You my King would die for me?" I don't know if I can fully grasped the significance of being here in Jerusalem at this particular time, but I feel it in my spirit. Maybe some day I will be able to put it all into words; but for now, I'll just keep singing about His amazing love.

new territory

I made it to the end of my first week at Bridges for Peace. I feel like myself again. I didn't actually realize how much I didn't feel like myself for the past six months until this week. I have discovered how much I really need to be in a "work" environment with other creative types—it feeds my soul. Being able to bring back more clothes from the states helped a lot as well. When I first came, I brought only practical clothes—jeans and t-shirts and basics. Now I have some of my fun work clothes and it's amazing what a difference it makes in my attitude; I just feel better about myself whenever I'm dressed nicely.

Word had gotten around before I arrived that I'm also a massage therapist. On my first day, I "worked on" three people, the first of which could not speak any English, but she was having problems with her back and the personel director sent her to me. That was interesting to say the least.

It's been cold and rainy all week and I haven't really enjoyed the 25 minute walk to work in the cold rain. My hair has enjoyed it even less. I try to be thankful for the rain, knowing the dry season is coming, but it's hard when you're huffing and puffing up a big hill, carrying fully loaded backpack and purse, wishing that there was such a thing as a really good umbrella that could withstand the wind. There's a guy from Britain that started the same day as I did and I figure that the cold rain is God's way of welcoming him into the land, so I'll have grace for a while, but I really hope the sunshine comes soon.

Most of the week was going well, and then yesterday happened. I caused everyone's Photoshop program to crash. We won't go into details on that one, but thankfully the Lord helped me figure out what I did and how to correct it, although it took a few hours to fix. In my department, there is one woman from South Africa, one from America and one guy from New Zealand. In the office there are people from all over—Germany, Britain, Canada, Australia, and a surprising number of folks from Texas. It's a job to get used to all the different accents.

We only work half days on Friday and today was special because we celebrated Pesach (Passover) at the distribution center and had lunch together. Pesach begins next Wednesday and lasts for a week. During the Feast of Tabernacles, there was a giant tent in fron of my door for a whole week. During Pesach, there will be no leaven (yeast) nor anything made with leaven in any of the stores or restaraunts. It will be interesting to see what kind of alternatives the bakeries and pastry shops come up with.

I'm starting to yawn and my eyes are droopy, so I think I'll call it a day. Shabat Shalom, y'all.