Not exactly sunshiney goodness.

Hello again!  I hope you're all impressed that I'm actually blogging again, within in the same month as multiple other posts!  I'm so productive!  It's really only because I have a short story that I want to share.

Yesterday, after spending most of the day with kindergarten, I headed to swimming lessons.  We have third graders on Mondays.  Nour, the other instructor, gave the kids only a few minutes of free time, while I was still setting stuff up.  He started class right away though and it was a lap day.  I say "lap day," because it means the days when he has the kid swim laps to review what skills they've learned.  I was correcting from the deck, so I wasn't in the water.  He gave them about ten minutes free at the end of class, and he started launching them into the pool.  They loved it!  He was throwing them all in the pool, one by one.  It's one of the first times I've seen him just play with the kids, so it was really nice!  Then, he said something to them in Arabic, and since I was across the pool, I couldn't hear what he said.  The next thing I knew, there was a herd of third-grade boys that came running around the deck.  They were all screaming and had their hands up in the air.  One of them said something like, "Sawiley!" (which, I've figured out means, "Pick me up!")  I started to reach to throw him, and the other boys started pushing me.  In no less than 10 seconds, six third-grade boys had thrown me into the pool.  I was shocked and impressed.  I looked up at Nour and he was laughing.  I gather he told them to come get me.  Nice.  It was fun though.  I'm glad, because I do genuinely enjoy playing with them in the pool.  

Oh, short story, Nativity Church with the kindergarten was fine.  They were only really impressed by jumping on the wooden planks that cover sections of the original tile floor, which ultimately have a nice hollow sound when you jump on them.  They were also excited for the candles that you can buy in Orthodox churches.  We went to the Milk Grotto, then back to Milano Pizza.  That's where the mayhem ensued.  I love those kids though.

We went to church in Ramallah on Sunday.  This means that we've attended all six churches in the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Jordan and the Holy Land Synod.  Hope in Ramallah, Reformation in Beit Jalla, Christmas in Bethlehem, Beit Sahour, Good Shepherd in Amman, and Redeemer in Jerusalem.  The service was nice.  The people were sweet and welcoming!  We're hoping to have two YAGMs serving in Ramallah next year to help with their church and the Hope School there.  

On the way to Ramallah, we were passing through the DCO checkpoint, which is near Beit Jalla.  We basically got waved through, without having our passports checked.  This usually doesn't happen going into Israel, at least not on Sunday mornings at this checkpoint, and this quickly.  One of the girls noticed that off to our left, four Israeli soldiers were carrying a man by his limbs into one of the booths.  The man was clearly struggling, and the door was slammed as soon as the got him into the booth, which was rather quickly.  I don't know what happened.  I would venture to say that this would be the reason why we were escorted so quickly through.  I just wonder what you would do with a human being that you carried like a hog-tied animal into a 4x4 room, with several other people.

Also, while in Ramallah, we had to detour around the one intersection.  It was marked off with caution tape and had three army Jeeps with Hebrew on them, and several soldiers with guns.  As much as I talk about the IDF, it's rare that they're in the West Bank, past the Wall.  I saw a couple of Jeeps a few days ago in Bethlehem, but it turned out that it was for Armenian Christmas, which was January 20th.  The soldiers in Ramallah seemed odd, especially after seeing the man carried away in the morning.  There were also several young men with kefiyahs, stones, and Palestinian flags.  We asked one of the girls at church, and she told us that she was afraid to come to church, because she thought the IDF was in Ramallah.  The truth?  Apparently, they were filming a movie.  I'm assuming they were filming a movie about one of the Initfadas, but I would like to make a public service announcement: Don't film a movie in a town about soldiers attacking a town, when it is still a very, VERY real prospect.  

I was asked to write about what it means to be a Christian here, especially where Christianity is the minority, and how do I find hope amongst the war and heartache that is part of the Palestinian identity.  I'd love to be able to give you some profound answer about how being a Christian here is like being a "beacon of light in the darkness" or something.  I don't know.  Christians and Muslims don't all get along here.  There's a lot of Christians that don't like Muslims, and I'm sure some Muslims that don't like Christians.  I work at a Christian school, where there are 60% Muslim students and 40% Christian students.  I don't really feel like being a Christian is hard for me, but I feel like in having conversations with Christians here, they're very worried about Christianity dying in the Holy Land.  Christian families are especially unhappy when their children move to the States.  Factoid: there are more members of Christmas Lutheran Church in Bethlehem that live in the United States than that actually live in Palestine.  I'm not saying that tourists are members.  I'm saying, legitimately, more members have moved away than stayed.  That's what the Christian community is facing here.  I've never felt like I needed to defend my religion to keep it "alive," but that is a very real need here.

As for finding hope, it's tough.  I'm not going to lie.  In fact, in this year as a "missionary" for the church, I've felt the furthest from God that I've felt in the last two years.  It's hard.  I go to an Arabic service or English service every week, depending on my need.  I go to an echumenical young adult bible study.  I'm starting a four-part series on vocation with the seminary intern from Redeemer in Jerusalem.  I work at a Lutheran school, with daily devotions.  Blah, blah, blah.  I'm doing the concrete things, but it's not always there.  There are moments, for sure.  There are days, and even weeks, where I get it.  I get it.  God is here.  He really is.  Look at the kids.  Look at the families.  It's the first time where I've really seen people suffering from the lowest point.  I worked at a homeless shelter for several years and I have had my share of volunteering, but it's not like that.  People, affluent people, say that there isn't a need for environmental concern, like not throwing your garbage on the street, because the first level of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs is not being met.  They don't feel safe.  How do I, as an affluent, young American...AMERICAN, understand that?  I've never had so much missing that I couldn't even feel safe.  Amongst the different heartaches in my life, I've never questioned if I had a home to go to, unbulldozed, or if soldiers are going to attack my family.  I don't understand that.  I don't know how to help.  I can never be "Palestinian."  Kelbi fi Falestine, laken ana mish Falestina.  (My heart is in Palestine, but I'm not Palestinian).  It stinks.  So, I'll try to keep pondering this, and let you know when I do have those profound reflections--they happen now and then.  It doesn't really give you a warm and fuzzy sense of the Holy Land, but not much does anymore.

**Please pray earnestly for Cinnamon and her family.  She is a young woman from my church and high school.  She has brain cancer.  

**Please also pray for the people of Gaza.

**Take a moment, and pray for someone that has hurt you in the past.  We can't find peace externally until we find peace internally.

Much love,

Meredith
In the Lord, I'll be ever thankful.  In the Lord, I will rejoice.  Look to God, do not be afraid.  Lift up your voices, the Lord is near.  Lift up your voices, the Lord is near.