Not a Kodak Moment

"This is not a kodak moment."
The Genesis Land experience. A delicious meal served in a large tent surrounded by new friends my husband and I met on a tour. Hissop tea, dried fruit, chicken, couscous - a meal fit for special visitors to Abraham's tent. Oh, and a camel ride.
I mentioned the camel ride in Camels and Courage. But that was my camel time. My husband, Joseph had his own.
He decided from the get -go that he wasn't going to ride a camel. He'd walk to the tent, thank you very much. No amount of my, "but honey do it for me" was going to change his mind.
We were choosing our partners for the ride, and it came down to a young 16 year old gal and a 20 something IV Pharmacist. The 16 year old was ready to go. Miss IV didn't want to ride a camel. Not like my husband, who just had no desire to do the tourist thing - no, she was terrified. We're talking panic attack terror.
And then, Joseph had one of those moments - the ones where you know God is telling you to do something. No voices from above - just that inner sense that you've been communicated with.
Joseph volunteered to ride with Miss IV. With much encouragement that he would be behind her the whole time, she reluctantly climbed into the saddle. The camel lurched up and with a cry she said, "this is not a kodak moment!" There were times, my husband told me later, that he feared she would loose it altogether and no telling what would have happened. But he talked her through the whole ride.
She thanked him over and over and afterwards, called him her life saver.
We all need those people in our lives from time to time, and hopefully we can be one of those people for someone else.

Oasis In Time

On the seventh day God was finished with his work which he had made, so he rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had made. God blessed the seventh day and separated it as holy; because on that day God rested from all his work which he had created, so that it itself could produce. Genesis 2:2-3 (CJB)

Shabbat shalom. Peace on the Sabbath.

Shalom. Completeness, wholeness, peace, health, welfare, safety, soundness, tranquility, prosperity, fullness, rest, harmony; the absence of agitation or discord, a state of calm without anxiety or stress.

Shabbat. An oasis in time. The Queen of Days. Permission to take a deep breath, turn off the noise, slow down and connect with the Creator.

Jerusalem is a bustling metropolis. Taxis and buses vie for space among the bumper to bumper traffic. Pedestrians line the streets. A moving sea of humanity. Vendors sell their wares, mothers with babies in strollers push along the sidewalk clipping the heels of professionals, late for important meetings. Men draped in black, peyos flying on their way to the Kotel rush for afternoon prayers. Voices mix with auto horns. The pulsating pound of music vibrates windows.

And then it stops. Doors close and lock, booths shut down. All is quiet.  Its Friday, its four o’clock and time to set sail for the island of refreshment.

The sun sets and candlelight takes it place. Women welcome the Queen with a wave of their hands over the dancing flames, cover their eyes and bless God for allowing them and their families this time together. Fathers bless the bread, the wine, their wives and children. Savory and sweet delights fill bowls and are passed along the table. Laughter, song, joy fill the evening. It’s Shabbat.

And it doesn’t end. In the cool of the morning, the only sounds are birds and undefiled conversation as men and women stroll along the once hurried streets. Some on their way to synagogue, some to spend the day with family or friends. Parks, only a day before loud with sports and competition now welcome circles of children, young and old couples, picnic baskets and blankets.

This oasis in time––island of refreshment is good for the soul.

 How many times do we find that we are just as tired on Monday as we were on Friday? Where did the weekend go, we lament as we tick off our activities. The tyranny of the urgent crushes our hearts and wears down our spirits. Is there no rest for the weary?

Most of us can’t stroll down a quiet street in Jerusalem, but we all can create an oasis in time––an island of refreshment. It takes a desire, a first step.

Could it be, our Heavenly Father––our Abba has set a table for us at the end of our necessity and beckons us to join Him?

What can you do to begin a new journey towards a Shabbat shalom?

Ancient Paths

Here is what ADONAI says: "Stand at the crossroads and look; ask about the ancient paths. 'Which one is the good way?' Take it, and you will find rest for your souls..."  Jeremiah 6:16

Shomron, Samaria, West Bank. Through the centuries the name has changed, but the land remains the same. If the stones could speak, they'd have stories to tell.

This was the location of the Tabernacle at Shiloh. Eli, the priest, sat in the doorway and watched Hannah plead with God to give her a child. He thought she was drunk as she poured her heart out to the Holy One.

This was Samuel's stomping grounds. He heard the mysterious voice of God calling his name as he slept when he was a boy. "Samuel," the voice called - three times.

Yeshua healed ten people with leprosy here. Only one returned to thank Him.

He had an encounter with a woman at Jacob's well. He asked her for a drink of water, and then offered her mayim chayim - living water. Temporal for eternal.

The land has seen birth and death. Laughter and tears. It holds the precious blood of those who fought to defend their homeland.

Yes, if only the stones could speak.

And yet, the stories have been told. The ancient paths still lead the way. God's voice is still heard by those who are willing to listen. Above the new and improved, bigger and better, the modern technology, God still calls our name, listens to our heart's cry, heals our infirmities and offers us living water.

The ancient paths are available for us to follow - today.

Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, because I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  Matthew 11:29

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)