DOING SOME LABWORK

Sometimes I love this blog and other times I hate it-it seems to call me back to it, demanding honesty and the willingness to share my truth...even when it's embarrassing or uncomfortable. Some days the words flow from my fingertips, sometimes weeks go by before I'm ready to get real.

I'm in Israel, traveling with Sam around an amazing country. You've probably heard that things are a bit crazy around these parts, and I'll talk about that more later but the truth is that the journey that continues to hold my fascination is the one taking place in my heart.

I came here expecting a perfect trip, thought it would look like the movies, that Sam and I would never argue and that I would get to dress up in all of my carefully put together outfits, that I have now lugged around Israel and never worn. I think there is a part of me that wants love to look that way, beautiful, flawless, easy, always comfortable, dressed up and looking good. I thought I would love Africa because the experience would be like that-flawless. But somewhere during my time in Africa I needed to accept it as it was-ugly, messy and uncomfortable before I could ever love it. I have longed for this trip to Israel for months, painted pictures of how it would be in my mind. I arrived here and discovered that he isn't perfect, that he and I together can be messy and uncomfortable... and that it's impossible for me to always maintain a pretty facade. Just like Africa, I fought it when I realized things weren't going to be the way I had planned or wanted and it wasn't until I accepted things as being exactly as they needed to be, that I could learn to love my experience here. And it is learning how to love, because I'm beginning to believe that love might actually involve effort, patience, tolerance, the best of me-not just the prettiest parts of me. And it doesn't always comes naturally.

Now I'm confronted with this very real relationship, with two very real people and I find that I'm learning to love-finally. But it's not always a very easy process or pleasant for witnesses. My experiences in Africa and Israel have broken me down, taken away all the things I knew, shown me how little I do know and asked me to be a better woman than I am. I don't know if I've risen to the challenge or not-I just know that I'm still here, still going. Still growing.

A few days ago we watched as rockets dropped into the hillside behind our hotel. A few days later we woke to the sound of the bomb siren letting us know that rockets were on their way...it turned out they hit a city a little further south. It stills seems very unreal to me...I wonder how intense it has to become before it feels real. Or does it need to happen to my home and family. The weird thing is that life goes on, it doesn't stand still waiting for things to get better. People are still laying out on the beaches, sitting on the streets smoking their hukas with strawberry smelling tobacco and kids are running around everywhere. It's seems that life is able to adjust to all types of crazy circumstances.

We visited Bethlehem in Palestine and the people were incredibly friendly and served us yummy hummus. Saw the spot where Jesus was reported to have been born. Visited the wailing wall and prayed with my forehead leaning into the warm and time worn rocks that have had millions of foreheads resting against them before mine. Shopped in the colorful bazaars, bargained with a ferocity that I attribute to Ugandan sales tactics. I think I may have scared some of the shopowners. The people are lovely, offering us places to stay, rides, food and drink after speaking to us for 5 minutes. We stayed on a Kibbutz (an Israeli commune), floated in the Dead Sea and biked around the Sea of Galilee.

I've looked for God at every spot we visited and sometimes I found the peace that God brings. Sometimes I felt nothing and wondered how I could be at such a holy place and be thinking about falafel. I thought I would come here, visit the religious sites and be a better Christian or at least more convinced in my faith-kind of like my pilgrimage to Mecca. But I'm still me, the epiphany never came. I've walked through my life waiting for that moment, when everything would be perfect, I would finally get it, whatever it is. I've kept my eyes firmly on the rewards to come and now I'm beginning to wonder if I forgot to allow myself to enjoy the journey itself.

Sam reminded me of that quote from the Beatles song 'Beautiful Boy', "life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans." I know that intellectually but I'm starting to understand it in my bones, that this is my life-NOW. With it's imperfect relationships, a few extra pounds, uncertainty about the future, rockets dropping from the sky and things about myself that still need to be changed. I could live my life always dreaming of what comes next, of what life will be like when I finally make it and at the end of my life have a long list of amazing experiences that I forgot to experience. That might be cool but the thing is that when I'm still and present in NOW, that's when I feel that peace, which I think might be the peace of God-you know those moments when a sunset makes you cry because you're so grateful for it's beauty. That kind of peace.

The cool thing is that I'm walking into a future that has no certainties...I don't know where I'll be living a month from now, will I have a job? Will I be happy or even healthy? So I have all these opportunities coming up to practice living in the NOW, doing my part to prepare for the future, then getting back to enjoying what is, at this moment. Sometimes I feel like life is a series of lectures and labs...you learn something new, listen to the lecture, maybe take notes-then you have to go into the lab (or life) and actually practice it.

Today is a beautiful day in Israel. There are resumes that need to be sent but then a beach that beckons. So I'm going to get back to my labwork.