It’s quite another story to really follow in His footsteps, as in walk the Via Dolorosa; stand on Mount Olive; sail the Sea of Galilee; visit Capernaum.
I see that question mark hovering from your side of the World Wide Web. Capernaum?
It's one thing to follow in His footsteps via the written word; that's been a life-long struggle, humbling at best, downright crushing in moments apparently necessary for personal growth, particularly given my propensity for stubbornness. That’s the least of my failings, but the only one I’m prepared to share publicly.
It’s quite another story to really follow in His footsteps, as in walk the Via Dolorosa; stand on Mount Olive; sail the Sea of Galilee; visit Capernaum. I see that question mark hovering from your side of the World Wide Web. Capernaum? I love a good mystery with my history.
I think that’s what was missing back in the day when memorizing all those dates and dynasties, bastions and battles made history feel as dead as the civilizations that had come and gone. The only mystery at the time was how I managed a passing grade in World History. On the other hand, the Sea of Galilee's “The Jesus Boat" has been and will always be, shrouded in as much mystery as history. Did this boat witness the events sweeping over the Sea of Galilee in Jesus’ time? Was this the boat that bore the Nazarene and his disciples to the surrounding villages to preach the gospel to the people? I have to hand it to the Nabataeans; these ancient Arab tribes of southern Jordan certainly knew a thing or two about curb appeal, not to mention fortifications. Walking the Sig (canyon) that gently winds toward the ancient, rose-red city of Petra was an exercise (lots of exercise!) in magnificence. The natural sandstone gorge was formed by flood waters thousands of years ago.
I’m still not sure if it’s the jetlag or the culture shock causing thoughts of my recent visit to the Holy Land to coalesce into little more than puddles of questionable substance.
I’ve certainly lost my rhythm, circadian and otherwise. Night is day; sleep is elusive; exhaustion eminent. Separating wheat from chaff in the midst of such an abundant harvest of sights and sounds, people and politics, culture and chaos requires coherent thought; something I lack at the moment, along with a good eight hours of sleep. But in my usual fashion, now that I’ve been there, done that, I have a wealth of travel tips and observations I just have to share when it comes to my Holy Land experience. Winding our way south along Highway 90, I watched steep cliffs of reddish flint rise sharply out of the otherwise stark scenery along Israel’s Judean Desert. The beige limestone bluffs on the Israeli side of the Dead Sea seemed untouched by eons of time; flooding from the Mediterranean Sea millions of years ago along this geological fault line that extends all the way to East Africa had left blinding white salt flats where the waters of the Dead Sea had receded. The beautiful blue waters seemed a mirage in the haze of such a barren and lifeless desert. Only in the Holy Land would the good Lord create a sea below sea level; a sea without fish, without life, a sea with a saline content ten times that of the Mediterranean Sea. Ours is not to question. I certainly have very few answers. But I do have some rather interesting facts and more pictures; lots of pictures.
My thoughts are as jumbled as a load of laundry tumbling dry.
Moses – Sea of Galilee – OMG – Jericho – the Holy Land – burning bush – exodus – OMG – Nazareth – Jerusalem – the Holy Land – OMG – Mt. Sinai – Jerusalem – Mt. Olive – the Jordan River – the Holy Land – OMG – the Wailing Wall – the city of Zion – the HOLY LAND – OMG – OMG – OMG – OMG – Oh Merciful God! The past week touring Egypt, Jordan and Israel the days have been long and arduous, filled with thousands of years of history and more information than my pea brain can absorb, much less process. In the span of seven days Jimmy and I have visited magnificent archeological sites, The sounds of the night blew in with the cool breeze from the balcony of our luxury hotel on the Red Sea’s Gulf of Aqaba. The call for prayers from a nearby mosque mingled with the clip clop of a camel as his Arab rider takes the sidewalk that borders the perimeter of the property.
Strange and exotic was the new norm on this, our fifth night of a whirlwind trip through Egypt, Jordan and Israel. Excitement was in the air, punctuated by the bright lights of Jordan’s only port city, Aqaba, once known as the city of Elat as per the Bible. As long as I’m dreaming, let’s throw in a DeLorean for tooling around Cairo’s busy streets, because given the view from the balcony my first morning in Egypt, its Back to the Future for Jimmy and me as we bounce between the ancient world and the 21st century. How else does one rationalize a modern hotel juxtaposed against the ancient Pyramids of Giza?
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