On Thursday night, we shared conversation and wine as we debriefed and spoke words of friendship to one another. We spoke words of gratitude and we appreciation for the ways we were enriched and enlightened. We wished we could have listened longer to each other, but we had to pack and rise early for the final leg of the journey home.
Our guide, Joseph, was being collected by his son. As we pulled up to Tel Aviv airport, his son arrived in the family car to pick him up. We saw that he was pulled over by Israeli security to pass through to the airport, Our driver, Edward, was heading back to Jerusalem to begin driving for another tour group. We had top notch Palestinian Christian drivers and guides and we appreciate their care for us.
We know this trip will take time to process. We hope others will want to hear our stories. We hope others will chose to come on this pilgrimage in the future. We wish to share of love of Christ with others.
Now, it is time to settle and to grow where we are planted. May each pilgrim have a blessed return home.
Leaving the Holy Land.
ReplyDeleteI am leaving the Holy Land
Leaving behind sneakers dusted with white earth.
And waffled footprints on the hill of Salome's spite.
Whose fiery sunset is framed
In centurion olive trees.
I am leaving the Holy Land
Leaving zaatar’s bite and rose water’s kiss.
And the clamor of Sepulchure's pilgrims
Beneath smoked stained ceilings.
Cacophonous chants in tongues
And ardent cries of hope for children’s children
I am leaving the Holy Land
Leaving time set aside to to know that place of Jesus,
And walk on arid soil made sacred by His footsteps
Confirming life amidst in ruins and walls -
Silent witnesses to revolution.
I am leaving the Holy Land
Leaving the well where a Samaritan drew kind water.
And Lazarus inner tomb - empty and still.
And the Bethlehem’s hill of shepherds' awakening -
Palestine's walled off places - that lack intrinsic peace.
I am leaving holy land
Sunglasses sunk in the Sea of Galilee,
No respect, no mourning follows me
Only my exhale remains, mingled with prayers
And a tear.
I go to holy land,
Expecting the promises made on black rock hills -
Blessings to poor and peacemakers
The place of prayers and ancestors
Still alone, less afraid.
Very beautiful, Mary Lou.
ReplyDelete