Everyday in Israel has been a unique experience. I’ve never seen such a small land mass with such a plethora of different geography (yes, I said a plethora).
Ruins, deserts, mountains, lush hillsides, beaches, modern cityscapes. All in a landmass similar in size to my home state of Indiana. It’s easy to see why this was called the “Promised Land,” and why there is still so much conflict over who owns the rights to it.
There’s nothing like it.
We spent this morning back in Jerusalem’s Old City at the Upper Room (the location of the Last Supper and the events of Acts chapter 2), took one last walk past the Western Wall, and then spent the afternoon at a vineyard in the Judean Countryside.
Another day to add to a list of unforgettables.
The day I left to come here, my 4 year old son asked me if I was going to see Jesus (like He’s an amusement park or my long-lost Jewish uncle Epstein that lives just east of Nazareth). A funny question.
But honestly, as speechless as this land has consistently rendered me all week, I really didn’t “find Him” here.
While I undeniably understand better who Jesus was (and how Israel plays into the story of God), what I personally found is a deeper passion to follow who He is (insert subtle reminder here: He’s alive). He’s invited me (and you) to participate in His Kingdom. Not in history, but right now. Today. And going forward.
If we’re willing to surrender to it.