From Their Pace to Ours.

A Day at Our Pace, and then some.
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From Huff to Puff

Jerusalem's campus is much more involved than other campuses.

That is to say, time is a bit more precious, and things take a bit more of it.

Getting to class is a five to ten minute walk, depending upon personal brevity.

Preparing a meal must be done while circumventing 10-15 other people in a very small kitchen.

Finding a place of privacy is often an issue of chance, not diligence.

But sparing more,

i must say that we are indeed blessed, and for 20 people to store their week's worth of food in just a few fridges, and one medium sized cupboard, is something of a miracle in itself.

Everyone has personal struggles; and everyone deals with those struggles in their own ways.

But everyone is recalled by their God, broken, and healed.

in but two short weeks time, i'd say about half of the campus population has been broken and renewed in some way.

Kristin and I included; more than once even.

God is faithful,

and it's beautiful to see Him render individual lessons to individual hearts, even when 22 of them are all on the same exact schedule, all living within a dozen yards of one another.

Yet we still find time to enjoy the beauty of our surroundings.

As Kristin wrote, our first "Block" of classes has officially ended, with a formidable final exam.

an exam leaving much of the student body feeling defeated; though for me a certain refreshment at the clever difficulty imposed; it's humbling and i enjoy that.

Also as Kristin wrote, John and Lori Steward are on their way elsewhere from us, and we were blessed to have them.

beautiful insight into our hearts and future was birthed from conversing with them.

In some ways, this marks the end of our "settling in" period; patterns are forming, habits are adapting to culture (some more than others), etc.

We count our blessings here, and already see the cultivation of our hearts; and here we are less than a fifth into our time here.

pray for us, and pray for Israel.

We desire God's will and sanctification.

From Time to Time.

It seems as if time has been our enemy,

but bending it is a learned art. 

Our days are filled to the brim, 

and there are moments where I feel suffocated, 

but as Matt emphasizes- our circumstances are circumstances that God has given, and thus we must rely on Him for strength, hand in hand, day by day.

This week has been eventful, not only in schedule and time, but in politics and news. It is frightening to see how extreme these cultures are. For the first time, I am an American not being integrated into the cultures and welcomed warmly, but consistently aware that I am a foreigner and treated as so. 

Matt and I have had the grand opportunity, privilage and blessing, to be spending the past two weeks under the teaching of John Stewart, a lawyer with a PhD in Theology, and his wife, Lori Stewart, with a law degree and thorough studies of Biblical Peacemaking. Both are an inspiring couple to us, who have been through a lot to be where they are today, as they travel the world and consider Africa their second home, relentlessly teaching the Bible and Gospel worldwide. We have been able to bring them to dinner, have numerous conversations regarding present day politics, advice for the future, and have been reduced to tears over God's blessings in their lives. 

John has lead the class in teaching church history and inter-testament history, and ended with a Master's Graduate degree test (which I failed and Matt got the second to highest score in the class). They have both given us background information on Palestine's history and have helped all of us understand the present day situation better so that we can communicate better with these cultures. We have seen Hamas' declaration of the "day of wrath" to cause Israeli Defense Forces to fly planes over the city, ten officers at every street corner, Palestinians feel betrayed by Obama and show it, men walking around with hands clutched to their guns, Jews not revealing themselves in the streets as tourists replace them, and the school taking extra precautions of sleeping next to packed backpacks and practicing our escape route to the bomb shelters.

Matt and I feel as if we are here at a significant point in International Relations, 

and I do not know what to think.

But I will say and declare that the Lord is good,

and will have confidence in His sovereignty.

The children here grow in hostility;

I have witnessed10 year old boys hit, kick, and threaten the girls with scissors,

as the boys assert authority to each other by violence,

and our walks to school pass through children threatening to stab each other with sticks and stones.

It is rare to receive a smile from a child.

instead, we are given untrusted glares.

"Jerusalem- built as a city

that is bound firmly together,

to which the tribes go up,

the tribes of the LORD,

as was decreed for Israel, 

to give thanks to the name of the Lord.

There thrones for judgement were set, 

the trones of the house of David.

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem!

May they be secure who love you!

Peace be within your walls

and security within your towers"

For my brothers and companions' sake

I will say, "peace be within you!"

For the sake of the house of the Lord our God,

I will seek your good."

-Psalm 122: 3-9

From Day to Night.

From SD Card to Blog Post

The two of us want to share a few images of the city with you.

As mentioned earlier, the City is curious amalgam of Past and Present, living side by side in a peculiar symbiotic relationship.

This applies to both the stones of the City, and the people of the city.

In a sense, they are heavily aware of the past; Both the city and the people are chained to the heritage.

The City cannot be separated from it's history, and the people live, as Kristin mentioned, with the emotive legacy of their forefathers.

 

That being said, both the city and the people lack a perspective on their future; a future more readily apparent to me, as a disciple of the Messiah.

I see the future.

I look at the Mt. of Olives, and i see a footprint of Judgement.

I look up, to the Heavens rolled back like a scroll.

I look at the dirty streets, and i see a Millennial City arrayed in perfection.

I look at the greedy shop venders in the bazaars, and i see instead markets of plenty and prosperity, with an abundance of food in a perfect economy.

Jerusalem is far from where it once was under it's former kings.

David subdued it and took it, and Solomon turned it into a Golden City.

And still Jerusalem is far from what it will be under it's New King.

The WORD OF GOD will subdue it, and YAHWEH-TSIDKENU will restore it to its Golden State.

We pray for the Day of the Lord.

- Matthew 

From Tears to Trust

We were told that this City was a potent furnace;

set to blaze away droves of dross.

and certainly i've experienced a brief taste.

It was only a few days into my time in Jerusalem, that my Mind and Body were crippled by fatigue. I felt spiritually congested, and lacked focus.

People talk of Spiritual warfare.

and if i've never penned it before, i must clarify,

that i am wary of certain assertions..

and i am skeptical of attributing personal struggles to the acts of spiritual "principalities and powers."

I do admit,

We have three enemies: Spiritual hosts of wickedness, a Body of Death, and lastly the harlot "Mystery Babylon,"

The World, the Flesh, and the Devil.

Which enemy or combination of them plagued me i cannot say with certainty, though i suspect it was a combination of Flesh and World.

However, one thing i do know as Peter learned, is that overcoming our Enemies as Saints of God is not a matter of analyzing and contending with the Waves, but a matter of steady focus upon our Master's Eyes.

Now, after looking back at my mood and misguided heart, i cannot even discern my exact bewitchment.

But my Salvation from it is clear.

I remember the faithfulness of God.

I remember His faithfulness to this people, and their beautiful history.

I remember the Testimony of imperfect men blessed by their loving Lord.

And the promises made of the Christ.

And the promises made by the Christ.

Still more, the testimony of my own life.

How i have ended up here in this city.

How God's direction has so brought me here, and has yet to fail me.

Will He forsake me?

will He not work all together for good while i seek out His path?

and will He not answer my prayer if i do not ask amiss?

I wept for want of faith and guidance,

But now i trust for need of submission and continued Grace.

Therefore i embrace my time here.

As a student,

as a servant.

As a friend,

and a boyfriend.

and certainly chiefest, as an envoy of Yeshua here in His city.

I will walk these streets in prayer and hope for a future yet revealed.

God can, has, and will, mend the broken secret places of my Heart.

- Matthew 

From Fear to Surrender

On September 11, 2011, I as an American Christian woman walked the streets (with the group) of the Muslim Quarter, and saw how the Muslim men would look at us as if they were whetting their appetite with their eyes. It makes me shudder, to think.

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”

This verse was brought into a whole new meaning yesterday.
Yesterday was our first day of orientation-
The things I already suspected and observed were taught. “Women- do not look at the men in the eyes lest they take you for a wife. Do not show your shoulders.”
But the lady that was teaching us and prepping us on Jewish and Muslim culture seemed to be extremely sincere and genuine in her radical statements.
“The Old city is a city of oppression. There will be more spiritual warfare here than anywhere else you will experience. The people are lost in religion, they do not know the Bible as well as you do, (they mostly know the Talmud), they are surrounded by Islamic culture. And depending on who you talk to, it will be very very hard for anyone to trust you. This isn’t America. By being a Christian here, you are bearing the name of the Crusades, the genocides, the Holocaust, etc. That is why they will not trust you right away.”
It amazed me to think that the Jews have not changed since the Bible was written. They still identify each other’s social status by their family and their history. Each child is a culmination of each relative previous. Each ounce of bitterness is almost passed down to them. We would not be speaking to each person individually- but each individual carries the name and identity of their family in this generations and all generations previous. By them truly knowing Christ, they would be cut off completely.
And as she stood before us, with an obvious heavy heart, she paused to let us hear the weight of her words,
“I have no doubt that each of you are called here for a purpose.
I know many people that want to come here, and long to be here, but do not.
God has allowed you to be here for a specific reason.
It’s going to hurt.
It will be the greatest furnace you will experience.
He will burn away your dross in a way that you will never expect.
Your strengths will be weaknesses,
And your weaknesses will be your strengths.
I have never experienced so much agony from one area,
But I know that I would never want to be anywhere else.”

My mood immediately changed.
My heart heavy.
My soul wanting to weep.
I listened only partially the rest of that orientation.
I felt as Jacob, wanting to wrestle with God.
Or Moses, already yearning to complain to Him.
I do not feel ready,
Nor do I feel eloquent,
Nor intellectual (which is necessary to reach these Jews),
Nor do I feel as if I should be here.
I felt utterly inadequate, unprepared, and unsafe.
Our devotions in beautiful gardens in the oldest Protestant church in the Middle east alone are surrounded by the Muslim Mafia.

But God did not give me a time to rest.
Instead, despite my attempts to climb into bed and journal and cry and read,
He brought me to a dissertation of all of the history of the Israelites as we looked at a model of Jerusalem in 70 AD.
He brought me lovely Tori, who had edifying and encouraging words, and many smiles.
And before I knew it,
All of us were sitting on top of the roof of the bazaars at sunset.
One part overlooking Jerusalem,
Another part observing the children flying kites.
And we did worship.

Our worship was clouded by the Muslim towers, which yelled Muslim prayers for all the people to hear and do.
Our worship to Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, was overpowering the chimes of a religion separate from God.
And my tears gushed out,
As if a flood of mourning came out of me.
Uncontrollable,
And genuine.

So when we prayed,
I simply felt compelled and heart wrenched to yell with tears I could not relent:
“Who are we, God, to know you?
Who are we, Lord, to have a relationship with You,
When your chosen people are lost in religion,
And duty,
And law?
It is humbling, God.
And I am forced to see it as a privilege to come before You
without sacrifices,
nor a specific place,
but to be at Your feet whenever we are willing.

Lord,
We cannot change culture,
And we cannot change their minds,
And we cannot be mere intellects,
But by your Spirit,
And Your might,
We can do all things through Christ Who strengthens us.

Please be with us,
Please be with Your people,
Please use us here.
Your city needs You.
We need You.”

Yesterday, I realized that I cannot submit to my fears.
Not to my fears nor to my feelings.
I must allow God to do all He wants in my heart,
As I completely surrender to do His will.
- Kristin

 

From Shadow to Substance

 

By God's grace and mercy, we made it to Israel.

We've been here less than 24 hours, but we are already impressed by the scope and reality of the experience.

Indeed, it feels surreal. Yet it is real. These places, these people. not some distant, ancient, or fictional world. But an actual part of this earth.

It's a place where thousands of years of history are compacted. Living in southern California, the closest the present gets to touching the past is Old Town Temecula's few original buildings.

But here, the Past persists into the present, rather than being swallowed by it.

Past and Present remain together, like a grandparent residing with the grandchildren.

Isaiah Chapter 1 discusses the state of Israel, and particularly, Jerusalem.

The chapter calls to attention three people groups, which persist to the present day.

Foreigners, that have moved in unwelcome, to desolate her.

Native Jews, who in vain practice ritual which God does not recognize.

And lastly... the Hurting. the needy and widowed.

These three exist today.

Little has changed.

But as i look around, i come to realize;

For the duration of My christian life, living in a culture-less America, the names and places mentioned in the scriptures are but shadows of what they really are.

That is to say, that Israel seemed like a fictional country, filed into my subconscious along with the locales of Star Wars, and Lord of the Rings. We live in an America where "ancient" is a purely fictional term. we do not encounter it nonfictionally. We appreciate it, like we appreciate our fairytales.

But it's real.

And i also find myself more eagerly appreciating the privilege i have in Christ; one these orthodox practitioners sorely lack. Colossians 2:16,17 notes how we have the actual substance, while the empty ritual worshiped by those here is but a shadow.

In a Physical sense, i have only had Jerusalem's shadow; the Jews have had it's substance.

In a Spiritual sense, i have the Substance Divine; the Jews, only it's shadow.

So much closer to the City, they are.. but so much further from communion with Him.

We went to the Western Wall, and i considered, how since the Life and Death and Resurrection of Jesus, The Jew's connection to God has regressed.

after 2000 years, it has been reduced to a mere retaining wall.

Had only they accepted their Messiah, the fellowship with YHWH would only have increased.

My Pity swelled for them.

Isaiah 1 also speaks of eventual Salvation. Bloodied sin is traded for White Purity. This has been my prayer here so far; that until God comes to be King of this City, His City, that He would reign here over hearts.

We must wait for New Jerusalem. but we needn't wait for a newness of life.

- Matthew

From Words to Scenes

A verse given to me by one too many-
“Only be strong and very courageous, being careful to do according to all the law that Moses my servant commanded you. Do not turn from it to the right hand or to the left, that you may have good success wherever you go. This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it. For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success. Have I not commended you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”
-Joshua 1:7-9

There is something extraordinary of reading a book that talks about the city I am in,
Especially a book written 700 B.C.,
And seeing no change in the city or lifestyle.

There is something extremely extraordinary of sitting in a couch with a view of the city,
Reading about Jesus in Galatians,
And knowing that I am in the same city that Jesus’ feet once walked.

What more,
To pray to my Lord and Savior,
And know that Jesus has once done so as well.

I recognize,
And brim with tears,
That I am a privileged human being.
A nineteen year old girl, at that.
Who is the student of the Great Teacher,
And the student of many wonderful human teachers.

Last night we arrived,
Thrown into a store with not-so-cheap prices due to the Sabbath, which begins at sun down and ends the next day,
Buying ingredients for the next three to four meals with Matt,
Dehydrated and groggy, eating in half an hour,
Then leaving with the rest of the students to have a quick tour of the city.

I have no words for the beauty,
That which is unlike anything I’ve seen.
The gardens and vineyards of Italy,
The walls and dandelions that surround York’s walls,
Even the bays and beaches and sunsets of California:
None can surpass the breathtaking views of the Jerusalem walls, which overlook hills and hills of houses and lights,
Nor the solemn sanctity of the Western (wailing) wall,
And seeing the scattered sheets of papers with prayers written that fills the cracks of the walls, scattered on the floor.
Matt was astounded when we saw the Mount of Olives,
Of which I naively did not understand that is where Jesus’ foot will once again touch as the mountain splits and the sky rolls back like scrolls.
It is not the “holiness” of the city that makes it beautiful,
But the sense of walking around ruins,
Where everything, every building, is stone,
A monochrome shade of tan and history.
Where cultures clash,
And religion is seen at its peak.

I am unpacked,
Restrengthened,
Excited,
And ready.
As I prayed this morning,
I am thrilled to sense that Jesus, as a great Teacher, will teach me individually. That just as He faithfully teaches Matt, that He will also meet me where I am and teach me my own lessons.
For this I am thankful-
That I need not compare,
Nor worry,
Nor be strangely entangled with home via facebook,
But know that this trip is about
JESUS CHRIST,
My Savior,
The Messiah.

And for this reason, I awake at eight in the morning, say hello to Matthew over breakfast, and rush out of the room to find the perfect nook to spend time with my Lord this morning.
Willing to abandon all people, and all things, only to read about my Jesus,
“who gave Himself for our sins to deliver us from the present evil age,
According to the will of our God and Father,
To whom be the glory forever and ever.
Amen.”
-Gal. 1:3-5
-Kristin 

From LAX to TLV (and a precious scene).

Once again, I am thousands of feet in the air. I am flying to New Jersey, and after our next destination, we will be in Tel Aviv, Israel.
It is an odd sensation- leaving;
And this time, with Matt sitting on my right.
Anticipating the semester.
Knowing that new friends, experiences, and lessons await me.
Await us.

I do not know what so often inhibits me from writing, but as mucha s I want all things documented, the fear of the pen running out, or my thoughts not concise, or the failure to properly reflect myself- they overwhelm me.
Too often,
I submit myself to my fears.
That isn’t the kind of person I want to be,
That isn’t the ideal version,
Or the characteristic of a radical Christian.
So why do I do it?

As I travel thousands of miles, past clouds and over continents, I pray to commit myself and be enslaved to God alone.
My friend, Matthew Thornton, told me that “We [Christians] suffer well because of the gospel.”
A beautiful truth.
My love, Matthew Farnum, has expressed his observations of pattens and God’s remarkable consistency with me lately. Exposing my genuine yet frantic way of dealing with suffering.
Perhaps it is because those subconcious fears become a reality- whether in lesson or theory.
Perhaps it is due to my wrong theological perspective, and I must remember that both good and bad circumstances are from God, the Author of every story.
But whether it was a small circumstance, like a balloon I was blowing literally popping in my face, or something far more drastic, I must recognize His sovereignty.

Just as He is sovereign in Aunti Mimi and Uncle Rod not only being overly generous with items to sell,
But also blessing us with money for Jerusalem,
And our radical profits made from our first garage sale,
And having money to tithe to the Lord,
And me having a last babysitting job to earn last minute cash,
A wonderful dinner with the Farnum’s and my family at Victoria gardens,
Communion and pancakes with Matt’s family on Sunday,
A beautiful weekend with Emily in San Digeo,
Sparkling moscato, beach, extraordinary desserts, olive cafe,
And true, edifying conversation,
Kayaking with Childhood friends,
Tears of joy looking at Emily’s gift to me,
And Auntie Jo’s card:
All blessings.
Pure.
God given.
To support us.
Jehovah- Jirah.

And the greatest thus far,
Was spending my last night with my lovely grandma is a hospital bed.
Despite the stress,
And the worry,
It touches my frail heart to take care of her.
I know God saw my heart,
As I asked her if she loves Jesus,
To which she said ‘of course!’
And I asked her if Jesus was God,
And she said yes;
That though she doesn’t go to a Bible study, she is a Christian.
I told her that I want to see her in heaven, and she told me that when she dies, she will see me there.

Oh, how the tears rushed.
I held her close.
Falling asleep with our hands clasped,
Sharing a hospital twin sized bed.
Knowing that God would, one day,
Hold both of us in His arms.
Having confidence that, one day,
She will not have cords attached to her body,
Or a crooked spine,
Or a thousand pills to ingest daily,
Or pain-
But perfection.
I read Philippians to her yesterday,
And I see the trade clearly-
To die is to gain Christ!
A truth that removes all fears.

And this morning,
I asked her to pray with me,
And hse said she doesn’t know how.
I had Frank Sinatra playing in the background,
And she sat and sang along, full of hidden sadness.
“Teach me,” she said.
And so I did.
“Dear God,”
“Dear God,” she repeated.
“say whatever you want, and then in Jesus’ Name, amen.”
As she stroked my face, she said,
“Please do not let the plane crash, and keep Kristin alive so she can make me happy.”

I gave her fifty kisses,
And she gave me fifty one.
“Okay, goodbye, go now.”
And with that, she closed the curtain to divide us.

And to the airport I went.

I have no assurance that she will be there when I am home.
But even so,
It is well with my soul.
-Kristin

From My Faculties to Holy Help

There is something frightfully romantic about reducing your personal effects into a small assortment of bags.

Certainly it carries with it a sort of transience; a deliberate lack of permanence and security.
But in exchange it offers a vibrant sense of adventure. It encourages a sense of temperance; it makes life feel more beautifully fleeting, and eternity a near friend, rather than a distant relative.
Like hope bound upon the ardent wind, one's soul leaps free of the security and constraint of the solid ground.
Instead, given over to the benevolent and mysterious purposes of Fate, Who does not entitle it's passengers access to the flight plan.
It is an exchange.
like exchanging currency, one offers up the ground, for the sky. Earth, for Heaven.
My faculties, for Holy Help.

When the zipper of the freshly engorged suitcase sighs in satisfaction from its hearty meal, there is a moment of reflection.
These packed objects, when before strewn about my room, gave a sense of material security. Yet now in this reduced state, their futility is laid bare.
Whence then, does my Help come?
From the LORD, certainly.

A moment of anxious freedom. The destination determined by Providence's purposes.
In the morrow I'll be leaving on a Jet Plane
- Matthew