From Bethlehem with love

What a time of year to be in Bethlehem. As I write, every now and again my eye is drawn to catch a glimpse of one of the Hills that can be viewed through my bedroom window. I'm not sure why I was surprised when on the coach journey from Jerusalem, we meandered through hilly and steep streets to reach my destination. I guess I also shouldn't have been surprised by the myriad of Christmas decorations and lights which twinkled at me as I gazed out of the bus. Santa's and bells jollied me along the route and I decided there and then that I quite liked Bethlehem. 

Yesterday I had the adventure of playing lone tourist. I'd already done the 'group following umbrella'  thing in Jerusalem a few years back and had become frustrated at the early morning starts and the continual chivying along to the 'next' thing. It had been informative and it certainly ticked all the boxes in terms of going the places that counted in  the life of Christ. Except, and this is a BIG exception, we didn't do Bethlehem.Which, for a tour entitled 'following in the footsteps of Christ', seemed to me to miss the critical event. His birth! (Although I suppose as a newborn baby he wasn't ACTUALLY walking when he was in Bethlehem so I guess that's OK!!)

I had been given a local map of the area from my guest house manager which he helpfully colour coded by highlighting three walks from my location which would lead down to 'manger square' and the central tourist area. Off I set and was pleased when I managed to arrive at the first junction and could clearly see where I needed to turn left. I soon realised however that the map was not an ACTUAL representation of ALL the roads in the area. Needless to say I got totally lost after the next turn and ended up retracing my steps 20 minutes later to try a different route. Having been here a day now, I can see it's actually clear if you simply follow where the main thrust of people are walking and had I been told that in the first place, instead of being given a map, I might have fared better!

Once in the square I spotted what looked to be a church building and headed towards it. I got distracted by a small door in the side wall, by which a security guard stood. I asked the guard if I could go through, he  seemed friendly enough and nodded so I stooped down to squeeze through the door and step over the threshold. For those who know me, I am what people politely refer to as being height challenged, so you can appreciate that this was a very small doorway. The cavernous shell that opened up was dark and at floor level quite empty. My eyes were drawn to the hanging lanterns which cluttered down in a random fashion from the high wooden rafters. Only one end of the building seemed occupied and that by men in black gowns singing at an altar area. To each side of the altar there appeared to be an ante rooms. The one to the right seemed crowded so I headed left.

I noticed some wide, worn and aged steps leading down further under the altar area and as I peered down it occurred to me that this might be the spot where Jesus was reputedly born. As I stood at the top of the stairs the heat of the mass of bodies and stale air from beneath struck me.  A few people started making their up towards me from beneath and it was then that another thought occurred to me. I was actually about to enter and go down the 'exit and go up' side!  I bided my time until the stairs were free and quickly descended when the bodies lessened. I perched on a small marbled seating area opposite the grotto where the star was, which everyone seemed to be photographing, laying hands on and kissing. 

Slightly stunned to find myself here and so easily, I tried to get in the zone of worshipfulness .Thankfully there was an American group down there whose leader whispered loudly that they should pray and sing a carol before ascending so I joined in the rendition of 'O Come all you Faithful' (much to the consternation of the Muslim group who were at that moment descending on the proper side.) If it wasn't for the fact I was still in shock from finding myself there in the first place, it would have been a moving moment.  

So....I'm now midway through my second full day in Palestine. I have much to share about this. I will make this 'part one' of the story so that I can separately concentrate on sharing about the fact that I'm sensing the significance of Bethlehem as the earth venue for the cataclysmic outworking of the LOVE sent from heaven  in reconciling humanity to God. 

From Bethlehem with love. x   

  

When two tribes meet

As my newly married neice and hubby sat sharing a meal with us earlier this week, we reminisced over their recent wedding and shared some insights.

One observation was the fact was that two very strong families had actually come together for the first time. The path to a successful outcome in terms of relational dynamics was no mean feat. We were aware that both sides of the family had unspoken issues amongst themselves let alone the potential minefield there must have been in their coming together.

It's a credit to all who attended that grace was extended to each other and there was tolerance on all sides. Rifts and offenses were apparently laid aside and people began to speak with relatives they previously hadn't communicated with in years.

The marriage ceremony itself had included the reading of a modern passage from the ancient book.
   Love never gives up.
   Love cares more for others than for self.
   Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
   Love doesn't strut,
   Doesn't have a swelled head,
   Doesn't force itself on others,
   Isn't always "me first,"
   Doesn't fly off the handle,
   Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
   Doesn't revel when others grovel,
   Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
   Puts up with anything,
   Trusts God always,
   Always looks for the best,
   Never looks back,
   But keeps going to the end

The young boy who did the reading confessed later that he had felt tearful as he read. I'd like to think that something of the essence of the truth of love from the good book had permeated the gathering that day and love became unfolded in all our hearts.

It could have gone either way...... with two strong tribes there could have been jealousies, grievances and any number of offenses taken but the power of love conquered and the two tribes gloriously united to celebrate the joining of a young couple in Holy matrimony.

The Glory Place

Our 7 year old foster child popped a question the other month which took me by surprise. He asked what our house was called. He has a strange habit of asking things and articulating thoughts that I have already been having. A secret and deep heart cry of mine has been to have a GLORY home. I had already dreamed of naming our home 'The Glory Place.'

You may wonder why I haven't simply gone ahead and done this already. If truth be known it's been a challenging year for me in terms of being a Glory carrier. I'm a firm believer that followers of Jesus by nature are glory carriers. Since our little lad was placed with us he has challenged every spiritual principle we have lived by thus far.

He had been in care for three months and had already experienced a placement break down due to his anger issues and violent outbursts. From day one it was like having a ticking bomb come into our home. One never knew when he was likely to explode. The unpredictability, destruction and abuse became a daily occurence which challenged our teenage daughters to threaten leaving home. So much for a glory place. We were living in a war zone!

The support we recieved as specialist foster carers to hold onto this type of child was invaluable and certainly saw us through the worst few months of our lives as a family. He came to us carrying  7 years worthy of stored up and unchallenged violence, abuse, confrontation and social and emotional neglect. Exactly the worst case scenario depicted in National newpapers over the last year. Considered a ferrel child, he was actually in need of secure boundaries and unconditional love. But OH!....the cost to us all!

9 months on and we are finally sensing the peace, beginning to breathe again and feel like we are reestablishing our home order. This child has slowly got the message and is responding to the boundaries, loving discipline, follow through on consequences of behavious (both positive and negative!) and we are starting to feel that the war is over. He loves the boundaries and is like a dry and thirsty well when it comes to recieving praise and affirmation .

As I look back over the stormy months when as a family each one of us was battered in some way and emotionally abused, I can see that the GLORY has been there all along. In fact the glory has been  increasing through adversity and challenge. The glory that has been deposited, that we draw from and for which we daily crave has left our home more of a glory place than I guess it would ever have been if we hadn't opened our arms to this lost and written off child.