Camels and Courage

For I, ADONAI, your God, say to you, as I hold your right hand, 'Have no fear; I will help you. Isaiah 41:13 (CJB)

Genesis Land.

Outside of Alon in the heart of the Judean desert. It’s an interactive adventure back in the time of the Patriarchs.

Eliezer, a servant of Abraham invited us into a room where we were given our own tunic and instructions on how the evening would play out.

Here’s the catch. Dinner was to be served in a Bedouin type tent––perhaps like that of Abraham. It was about a quarter of a mile around the hill. We’d go by camel. Of course. The ultimate Israeli tourist experience. 

I rode an elephant when I was five. I sat with other children harnessed in safety, and we ambled around the shopping center parking lot. Many years later, I rode a horse. They told me she was slow and gentle––and I suppose she was, except that some flies irritated her. Coupled with the fact that she smelled my fear, she tried to dump me in a river.

I decided I wouldn’t let my past experience get the better of me. I swallowed a double dose of courage and climbed on the beastie. My partner for the trek along the path sat behind me. My husband would be on another camel, and that's another story! How hard could this be? We were in a line––camel in front, camel in back. Slow and easy.

We ambled along for a moment or two and then, Mama camel decided she’d had enough tourists for the day and stopped. She swayed and groaned and looked longingly towards the bottom of the ravine up ahead where her family and food awaited her. She lowered herself on her front knees. Our cue to get off. From my vantage point, I watched the ground grow close––head first. Then she groaned again and pulled herself up, and backed to the edge of the ravine. Dangerously close to the ravine. She tilted back, swayed and groaned. That didn’t ease her of her burden. All the while, I prayed. Hard. Earnest. Once more she crept forward, stopped and bowed to her front knees. Along with our camel guide, another young man came and stood in front of us. They didn’t speak––just watched Mrs. Camel. She strained up again. No one in our group moved and I think we all held our breath.

When I was about to give in to the panic that slid down my spine, she began to walk––past the path down the ravine that led to her quarters. We continued the march to the tent. Whew!

I asked our guide when we reached safety, “was my camel about to bolt for her pen?” He was quiet for a second and then looked up at me. "Yes."

May ADONAI answer you in times of distress, may the name of the God of Ya'akov protect you. Psalms 20:1 (CJB)