Buttercups in Bloom

"Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name."  Psalm 100:4 We awoke to the stready flow of movement this morning. The click and clack of shoes hitting the pavement as people made their way to and from work. Cars below us giving their short beeps to move the car in front of them along or to jump into the roundabout where each car can barely put a sheet of paper between each bumper. The solitude of the Galilee behind us. Deliberately and slowly we blessed our food and gave thanks for the journey that we had traveled. We were not yet ready for the hustle and bustle of the city but our home was calling.  Climbing down the large stone steps we found our place in the morning shade.  We sat, we gave thanks once again and we entered the Holy City with reverence. It was a quiet and harsh day for our souls.  The push and the pull of the city was  a bit overwhelming. All senses were on overload as we walked the narrow

In the thin line between darkness ending and light coming I found myself awake. The air was cool. The pathway lit by the dim glow of lamp post along the way. The bricks beneath my shoes ever so damp. The glow of the Sea's cities stretched out before me. The quite lap of the waves of a swimmer in the Sea of Galilee below me. The breeze ever so gentle. The rooster crowing. The birds awakening in song. The thin line between the that which has past and that which is before me was present. There before me was the passing of one day and the new mercies of yet another day stretched it's arms around me.  The horizon filled moved from darkness into a blue, fading into a purple and exploding in a vibrant pink.  The rays felt as if were reaching out to envelope me, wrapping it's arms around me in a giant hug proclaiming, come my child, come find rest in the day before you, bread for the journey and the crashing of my love upon you. I sat listening. I let the breeze wash

In the thin line between darkness ending and light coming I found myself awake. The air was cool. The pathway lit by the dim glow of lamp post along the way. The bricks beneath my shoes ever so damp. The glow of the Sea's cities stretched out before me. The quite lap of the waves of a swimmer in the Sea of Galilee below me. The breeze ever so gentle. The rooster crowing. The birds awakening in song. The thin line between the that which has past and that which is before me was present. There before me was the passing of one day and the new mercies of yet another day stretched it's arms around me.  The horizon filled moved from darkness into a blue, fading into a purple and exploding in a vibrant pink.  The rays felt as if were reaching out to envelope me, wrapping it's arms around me in a giant hug proclaiming, come my child, come find rest in the day before you, bread for the journey and the crashing of my love upon you. I sat listening. I let the breeze wash

Let's face it we hate having to detour.  We hate not being able to take the fastest way possible to our destination.  A sense of dread rises about the time that will be wasted. We focus on the inconvenience of taking having to go out of our way. Today was a go out of our way kind of day.  The sun is bright as we begin to climb mount Arbel.  From the mountain we can turn around and see the way in which we have come.  We are proud of our past and can see our destination, the beautiful stunning Sea of Galilee. Standing atop this mountain is not the way Jesus would have traveled but the view is simply so stunning that the Jesus Trail takes you up and over this mountain.  The descent began and all was calm. The bouldering was much the same as yesterday but when we arrived at the half way point and approximately 45 minutes from the valley we simply had to turn around.  Not everyone in our group felt safe holding onto the wire rope that was embedded into the side of the mountain for h

If you are reading this for the first time in a bit, I want to share with you that I am on a journey in which we are walking from Nazareth to Galilee.  There are four of us and we span the ages; literally!  I'm 44, my roommate is 53, and the gentlemen are respectively 72 and 82.  These are men and women with whom I deeply love and respect in more ways that I can begin to speak. Today we were walking from Lavi to Arbel. The sky is blue; haze fills the air daring it to drop even an ounce of rain. The sun shining through the clouds touching the ground ever so gently. The ground is brown (or golden as they would say), dotted with the green of olive trees, waste high bushes. The panoramic view leads the eye from one hill to the next, each one shooting out of the ground as if to shout hello, you are welcomed here! Boulders encase us within the valley. We are headed up to the Horns of Hattin, across the valley and back up to the Arbel. The view was stunning.  From standing atop

Have you ever had a day where all you could do was to keep moving through the task that were before you?   Have you ever wondered if those days are ever going to lead you to the place where you truly long to be? Today as we began climbing our way out of the city of Cana where Jesus performed his first miracle of changing the water into wine the sun was already high above us. The steep climb out of the city led us to a summit that overlooked another village sitting high upon another hill.  It is true that 'a city on a hill cannot be hidden' because when each summit allow you span the horizon to see the next village rising out of the hill. After we made the summit of Cana, we began to drop into the valley to step upon the Roman Road.  We quickly began stepping upon rock after rock.  Rocks of all sizes and shapes and simply making our way on the road.  There were moments when the rise was steep and we walked slow and steady but honestly the majority of the trail today w

The dark of night is strange.  If all is well within your soul, the darkness of the night seems to pass quickly as you fall into a deep slumber. It is then that you can awake refreshed and sing "it is well with my soul."   The darkness of the night can also perpetuate a restlessness within; allowing your mind to run to and fro trying to catch that thing that eludes your and keeps running further and further away.   I must say that for two nights a deep slumber has eluded me.  It started on the plane ride over to Israel.  I literally did not sleep the entire 10 hours we were on the plane.  Oh believe me I tried!  I took a natural supplement to help settled me down, turned on my music, closed my eyes and tried to will myself to sleep.  It did not happen.  Then last night on our first night in the country, I found myself wide awake at 3:00am.  I tried again to will myself back to sleep.  I concentrated on my breathing, took a drink of water, spent time praying over so