The simple memory of stepping out of the airport, into Tel Aviv’s hot Israeli sun, is one that I will not soon forget.  It was a magical moment and the beginning of 14 days on the other side of the world, that would flip my understanding of the Bible on its head. 

       

         I returned home with camel figurines from the Sea of Galilee, bath salts from the Dead Sea, roasted pumpkin seeds from Jerusalem, and 3 hours worth of stories to bestow upon my family.  My stories included climbing 900 steps in Petra with Mr. Davison to see the most incredible monastery (carved completely from a huge rock face), trying falafel for the first time, kayaking on the Jordan River, spending a night in the most glorious middle-of-nowhere Bedouin Camp, and walking on the stone-brick Jerusalem city walls.

     

         I brought back as much history and knowledge as I could, but there was no way to describe the awe I felt when I stepped inside Jesus’ tomb. Or when we stood atop the great stronghold of Masada where thousands of people were killed. 

     

         Suddenly all the things I’d learned in my young life about my faith and the history of the Israelites, felt real, like I could reach out and touch it (probably because I actually could). Despite the grueling heat and ridiculous travel schedule it took to get there, I would gladly make the trip all over again.

 

                                                    -- Siena Rose,  Bear Creek Student