This morning was my turn to share for our devotional time. This is a story that I wrote/read for it. 

Perseverance and encouragement

Well, I’ve been laughed at enough to know that my story telling must make some kind of impact, so I’ve decided to tell a story! 

I am one of five kids. I’m a “first born” but second oldest. My sister Santana, is adopted and 6 months and one day older than me. Then there are the three younger brothers who all share my father and his father’s name, David. Santana is 21, I’m 20, David Mason’s 17, David Arthur’s 12, and David Laroy’s 11. This story is mostly about Arthur (we use middle names when only one of the David’s is in trouble, Ha! ;)

Alrighty, let me tell you about Arty; this 12-year-old is the goofiest, lankiest, awkward, hug friendly, clever, intelligent, annoying yet charming, picky glutton, wannabe man of the house you could ever met. He says everything with a crooked smile, and will say to your face, “I love you” multiple times everyday.

Okay, about 8 months ago, he was misdiagnosed with a disease called muscular dystrophy. Now, it’s by the grace of God that we’re all here today, but I’m telling ya, this kid has had extra servings of His grace!

Muscular Dystrophy causes muscles to progressively weaken. If tests can reveal what type of dystrophy you’re dealing with, you may be able to find out if it’s semi manageable or flat out fatal.

Flashing back…

My family would sit in the bleachers at Arthur’s baseball games, cheering him on as he walked into the dugout in his catcher’s gear. Of all the kids on his team, he had by far one of the best attitudes, very coachable. Though he also had some of the worst athletic performance and sometimes didn’t seem to be putting forth the most effort, pushing himself.

Over the last 2 years, Arthur deteriorated from a healthy boy showing off doing pull-ups on the playground, to needing a backpack with wheels because it was too much of a struggle for his weak arms to try to lift it up into our suburban anymore.

In school, his cursive became atrocious; he’d snap pencil lead after pencil pushing down too hard in effort to stabilize his hand and rewrite his homework more neatly.

You’d wake him up in the morning and he would be so groggy, he’d spill milk down his face, sloshing orange juice all over the floor on the way to the table, and his limp hands would drop his spoon or fork repeatedly like an obnoxious toddler.

I remember taking him to the local mall to see a movie once and we had to take 3 breaks for him to sit and rest in the 5 minutes it takes to walk there.

Another day, he sat on a table at the doctor’s and played his Nintendo DS, when the doctor discovered his resting heartbeat was racing at the pace of a runner.

Then he had to go in for a muscle biopsy, where a chunk of muscle was sliced out of his upper thigh to be tested. 

After a growth spurt, Arthur hit 5’ 9’’ and caught a cold, putting him under 100 pounds for weeks. Thank God I didn’t have to see his face when mom and dad explained to him that he would eventually need a wheelchair.

And if you thought women took forever in the bathroom, Arty would leave the table at dinner and be gone for 20-30 minutes before someone would get up to check on him. Let alone all of the other issues, when this happened 3+ times a day we knew there was a problem.

All the while, I was 8 hours away at school for 9 months of the year, returning home to see him progressively taller, skinnier, and weaker each visit.

It was infuriating. I felt like maybe my family wasn’t even noticing or something.

Arthur was needing 14+ hours of sleep everyday at this point, and I began the fastest and deepest spiritual plummet of my life.

Though the worst was still rearing its ugly head. Arty became consistently disobedient, rude, and socially awkward. He would purposely defy his teachers and our parents feeling no need to apologize for his behavior.

I was trying so hard to treat him with extra patience while still be firm enough to seem like I didn’t have favoritism for him, and I bottled up the agony inside of me.

One night this last spring, I was talking to my mom over the phone, when she reluctantly said that she didn’t want to upset me knowing midterms were coming up but that she needed to be honest. That day at school, kids in Arthur’s class made fun of him because he was drooling and didn’t feel or notice until the teacher pointed it out.

I finally broke down and asked my roommates to drop their study guides and to listen to what I’d been putting myself through. Their response was that of prayer, understanding, empathy and encouragement. 

Although it was nice to get my feelings out in the open, I didn’t really feel overwhelming peace or anything. But I did feel stronger.

The encouragement I received from my sisters in Christ gave me the confidence and courage to make a covenant to God. I decided to give my family up to God, putting Christ first in my life from that day on.

I understood dying to myself to live in Christ a little more that day. I found the only way to keep from constant worry about my family was if I prayed for God to use them for His glory and keep me seeking first His Kingdom.

And in the midst of the turmoil, this past summer, Arty accepted Christ into his heart and decided to be baptized. His face coming up out of that water made for my best pictures that year!

As so finally, after tons of exhausting specialist doctor appointments that poked, prodded, shot and drew out so much of Arthur’s energy, God revealed the problem. Arthur was diagnosed with a Hyperactive Thyroid. Although his thyroid had already been tested two years before coming back as normal, it had gone out of whack since then.

Some symptoms of a hyperactive thyroid are extremely high metabolism, racing heartbeat, drooling, weight loss, irritability, and muscular weakness...

The perseverance my parents put forth in looking for answers to Arthur’s ailing health stands as a testament to God’s faithfulness. And my brother David Arthur has encouraged me so much.

Some months ago, he had radiation therapy to his throat to kill his thyroid so that medication can regulate its functioning from now on. And although he was quarantined like a leper to his room for a week, having to eat, use the bathroom and entertain himself away from the rest of us, he is slowly gaining more energy everyday. 

Over the last 8 months my family pushed Arthur to run around outside, hike hills and swim through lakes while camping; working out his muscles as much as possible to keep them from atrophying. 

With a hyperactive thyroid, you need to keep physical activity down to a minimum to avoid over exerting the heart.

God only knows how close we may have brought Arthur to a full on heart attack.

May all the glory for Arthur's life be unto Him alone!

So, for an encouraging time of reflection, I have three verses to focus on:

Romans 15:4 For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.

Ephesians 4:29 Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.

Hebrews 10:24-25 And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.

 After reading this story, I passed out pieces of paper and had everyone write their name on the top. Then the papers were exchanged and once everyone had someone else’s paper, they wrote about the talents and gifts that person has as an encouragement and testament of praise to God!

After devos, a man named Eris shared with us what the Zionist organization Im Tirtzu is all about. Extremely interesting. Then after lunch, an incredible Bethlehem born Jerusalem raised Armenian believer, Annie, shared her testimony and passion for ministry through music and theater. It was a very good day.

  

More and more:

The bathrooms here are labeled “WC” for Water Closet.

The majority of toilet paper here comes in little rectangles that you pull out of the dispenser one by one. Needless to say, they’re perfect for pranking. So, the advantage was taken and a bunch of us MESP ladies pitched in our best doodles, potty humor, Arabic script and phrases and any other random creepy sayings and jokes we could come up with, forming a sizable stack of tp! I “used” the bathroom in our intern/program assistant’s apartment and replaced theirs with our lovingly crafted stack. Just spreading the love.  

 

 

at what Tuesdays at Al Basma are like...

Al Basma entrance

Olive wood bead strands for Xmas tree

Rug weaving stands

Large looms for more rug making

Aquaponics greenhouse

Handmade paper drying on counter racks

A few of our friends at story Q & A time

My goodness have I fallen behind.

In the last few weeks I’ve heard modern scholars speak their minds sharing brilliant ideas with our eager group, not to mention the genius insights I’ve received from locals as well.

Sunday 9/18

Author Gershom Gorenberg spoke to us about the “Accidental Empire: Israel and the Birth of Settlements”. He is an U.S. born American-Israeli dual citizen who if forced to label himself would identify as a left wing, skeptical Orthodox Zionist Jew. After dialoguing with this masterful intellectual we were thrilled to have the opportunity to visit some “obstacles to peace” as our Jewish guide, Bruce Brill, facetiously put with a grin… a.k.a. we went to visit settlements in the West Bank. Meeting various Zionists in synagogues speaking with a mayor, a community event organizer, and local people in their neighborhoods was quite the experience.

It was so good to hear and see this essential element to the conflict. Disagreeing with much of what was presented, it was incredible being able to personally experience a Zionist Jew say that Palestinians are not to be trusted. It is something I will be forever grateful for.

There is so much I could say. 

For instance, Palestinians who build houses for settlers (who are viewed as traitors from many fellow Arabs for constructing homes for Jews) have some outstanding rules to follow. Once this Palestinian is contracted to build the home, they are required to hire, out of their own pocket, an Israeli Defense Force solider to act as a guard while the house is built. These Jewish guards are good for every 10 Palestinians. Essentially, Palestinians pay Jewish guards to protect the Jews for whom they are building a home, from themselves. Even many settlers think this is bogus, and there’s more where that comes from folks.

Monday 9/19

A man named Yoni Kaplan gave us his take on the security consensus in Israel, answering our questions and addressing our doubts. That afternoon and evening, we were scheduled to visit Ramallah but since the Palestinian bid to the UN for statehood was so near, we were not permitted to go in an area where demonstrations and rallies were sure to take place. More and more this semester, I am beginning to empathize with the realities of having plans changed at the drop of a hat. From curfew and territorial restrictions to minimal independence and mandated groups of preferably co ed students to travel, every postponed and cancelled plan has brought me closer to the daily life of so many non-North Americans.

Tuesday 9/20

For the same reasons we could not go to Ramallah the night before, we had to miss out volunteering at Al Basma for the week. Instead we picked up trash around Tantur which is definitely needed. If there’s a major cosmetic difference between California and Israel it’s pollution. Here’s a glance at the daily sight on any given public patch of land.

Plastic literally disintegrated in our hands and blew away in the breeze. The sun has been cookin these layers of trash for goodness knows how long.

By the way, this is what Tantur’s entrance looks like!

Good to know:

In the U.S. someone enters an office and they’re offered a cup of coffee, right? Well, Arabs offer coffee as the departing beverage. After a nice long visit where tea, food and other drinks have already been consumed, the host offers coffee (or tea) to their guest, which is insulting to refuse, before their guest leaves. Therefore, offering a Palestinian coffee right when they arrive is indirectly saying “Drink up and leave!”

Friday 9/16

 Masada

Every king needs their winter palace / fortress, right? Well, we visited King Herod’s ancient pad, built on a plateau atop a secluded mountain overlooking the Dead Sea and Judean mountains. The site preserves a first-century Roman villa and remains of the most complete Roman siege system in the world. It’s all the rage when it comes to Judaism, because it’s where the rebel Jews during the Great Revolt took their last stand against Roman oppression. Rather than being enslaved to the Romans, the Jews burned all of their provisions and then all but two, proceeded to kill their wives and kids before committing suicide. (The two who survived were an on looking mother and a kid or something, hence this story’s existence.) This has been viewed as a heroic and honorable testament to the Jewish struggle for freedom.

A view from near the top. We walked up the “Snake Path” and it took 45 minutes of determined stair climbin and pain distracting jokes to get there!

Dead Sea

After a quick “Buy our expensive Dead Sea products fools” pitch from a skin care store, the group was given beach passes to head on down the hill with access to the beach. We proceeded to lather up like 4-year-olds with thick Dead Sea mud-sludge-tar-like stuff, fervently implementing the mental placebo that surely we were cleansing the pores of our integumentary system to the depths of its dermis.

Let me tell you somethin bout the Dead Sea, it’s trippy. The lowest elevation on earth is marked by the saltiest body of water which you could not sink in if you tried. And here’s a forewarning for ya’ll, depending on your sensitivity and all it BURNS down there! I literally walked into what looked like an ocean of moist salt and after my waist was fully submerged thought, “Wow! My crotch is definitely on fire.” Numbness kind of sets in though leaving you to enjoy the surreal feeling of losing control of the motor skills you were so convinced you’d fully developed.

We stayed at a hostel that night and got to see/hear Jews a few tables over celebrating Friday night Shabbat, with prayer, eating, singing, dancing and socializing. Twas cool. The Fiddler on the Roof in me really wanted to shout, “Mazel Tov!”, but I was good and refrained.

Saturday 9/17

En Gedi

Or Ein Gedi, depending on the way you like to spell the names of your Israeli National Parks, was incredible. Even though it’s the stingiest park I’ve ever been to, you’re not supposed to bring outside food in and can’t even toss apple cores or biodegradable compost into bushes or whatever, we still enjoyed ourselves. This place is an oasis in the desert with year round springs filled by water from the Judean mountains flowing through waterfalls, streams and pools. A park ranger literally had us fill up our water bottles with the fresh water pouring into a spring!

A group of us adventurers took a trail up to David’s waterfall and climbed around in the supposed Wildgoats’ Rocks Cave mentioned in 1 Samuel 24:4. It was here that Saul took a wiz, oblivious to the fact David and company were hiding behind him in the cave. David even cut off a corner of Saul’s robe to prove that he did not want to take his life and would appreciate it if Saul called off the seek and destroy David mission. Another great story displaying our great God’s faithfulness, I highly recommend reading it for yourself.

Although a friend and I were spotted trying to charge up a mountain to the lookout, the highest trail crest on the map, a dang ranger trying to do her job and keep us safe or something like that made us come back down saying that we were leaving too late (the park would close on us before we’d get back) and that we didn’t have enough water on us (we’d die). LAME. Anywho, we headed back to a spring pool and waded in the water with friends absorbin up the desert sunshine. 

Believe it:

Every night there are red, white, and green fireworks set off in Palestine.

Hacky sack is a skill I hope to further develop. 

Jesus’ blood never failed me yet,

Never failed me yet,

Jesus’ blood never failed me yet.

This one thing I know,

That He loves me so!

Wednesday 9/14

Today we had another 3 hour Arabic lesson and I got a “moumtaz” (excellent) for one of my letters! Writing from right to left learning up to four different forms each little letter with calligraphic movements is definitely a skill I have not mastered. For lunch, a group of us hit up Schnitzel King across the street, which has shawarma, schnitzel, chips (fries) and such, basically an Arab Subway. Although I am still not sure what “everything” entails exactly, I got a spicy schnitzel sandwich with everything in it. Then we walked up the street to the market in Gilo, which has fantastic fruit and veggies. Looking at about 20 different hummus options which were all labeled in Hebrew I grabbed one and hoped for the best, along with a bag of pita bread, huge mangos again, peaches, delicious juice again, cranberries again… yum!

That night I had my first skype lecture as a professor named Jim Wright, discussed how to live cross culturally. More than ever, do I understand why you need to be living fully immersed in a culture for 3+ years if you ever want to be effective in sharing the gospel. When you enter a new culture, you are the perpetual outsider with a funky accent who is working their butt off to gain the trust of those around you. Spirit, help me to seek first the Kingdom through the joy, through the pain, through the journey!

Thursday 9/15 

Happy birthday mommy!!! Today we went to the Menachem Begin Heritage Center in Jerusalem. Begin was basically the Israeli Ronald Regan. The museum was the thickest bout of propaganda I have ever immersed myself in. And the entire tour was automatically timed with headphones as well which made for some laughs. I was thankful however, that our guide concluded the tour with a simple, “Please take from the tour what you will; I personally do not agree with everything Begin did, I do however, respect him for his integrity as a politician.”

That evening we had our first night of Dabke lessons in Bethlehem! Dabke is a Palestinian folk dance and the only one men and women can dance together. Our instructors, Khalid and Bissan, were fantastic making fun of all of us right off the bat! Haha! They warmed us up and then proceeded to grind down our left hips and thighs to the bone as the stereo bumped a wonderfully hilarious mix of Black Eyed Peas and Arab beats. By the end of our 2 ½ hour lesson, drenched in sweat and plenty of goofy heckling having taken place, Khalid complimented me saying I did really well! What made the evening was getting to sit down in a circle and have a little debrief session. Khalid asked each of us to share our first impression of Palestine, good or bad. I said that seeing the Wall around Bethlehem and going through the checkpoint made Bethlehem seem really rough and raw, but the Palestinian people could not be more graceful and hospitable. I can’t wait for our next lesson!

Not to mention:

The chaco tan is coming along!

Apartment roomies!

I love these pickles.

Saturday 9/10 

Today I did homework alllllll day. I had some severe homesickness too. However, I gave it up to Him and, as always, He got me through! If things are worth worrying about, they’re worth praying about. The wonderful MESP ladies also helped to ease the tension when they pulled me away from my essay drafting and fed me some pancake, nutella, and mango. Then all of us ladies had a hysterical 9:30 yoga session on the viciously rough roof. Sore palms. Too much down-dog. Next time I will come prepared with a towel.

Sunday 9/11

After breakfast our interns and program assistant had prepared a devotional for us all to participate in. We recited a group liturgy written after 9/11 before our discussion and reflection of 10 years ago. We always finish our devotionals with standing, holding hands and singing the doxology as our voices swell and echo through the hallways. We then had a Jewish guest speaker/tour guide who took us to Yad Vashem, specifically to see the Children’s Memorial, the Holocaust Museum, and Mount Herzl.

Once again after a long day of emotional, spiritual, mental, and physical exertion, I was ready for some debriefing. And as is becoming a daily trend, I had great conversation with Kelsey, my outstanding roommate. She is Canadian. She is also educating me, little by little, exposing my stereotypical false assumptions about Canadian culture. For instance, Kels spent her summer “tree planting”.  Now if someone were to say this to you, would your natural pattern of thought cause you to envision a tree hugging hippie spreading seeds or a superhuman beast with enough stamina to intimidate a mother bear woken mid hibernation? Let me answer that thought with this fact: Kels plants an average of 3,500 trees per day. Stinkin impressive, eh?

Monday 9/12

Before heading back to the Tower of David for the “Night Spectacular” light show, we all met up at Jaffa Street, where we grabbed some grub. I had my first Holy Bagel and was quite impressed with its delicious sesame, avocado, tomato, cucumber goodness. Then we all ate some fro yo from Yo Yo Yogurtland in honor of our very own Jenna, whose birthday was that very day! I chose mango, granola, cranberries, and caramel to rest atop my vanilla.  

Ending the evening with the “Night Spectacular”, I was thankful to have seen a wonderful historical animated narrative projected upon ancient stones and displayed more vividly than Disney could ever attempt. Going through the various periods of conquest throughout Jerusalem, the show ended with the phrase “Pray for the Peace of Jerusalem” in Arabic, Hebrew, English etc. I am praying for the sovereign Prince of Peace to rule. 

Also: 

This was dead, and awesome.