Shalom, lovely friends!

Our visit to the Holy Land turned out to be pretty amazing! A friend recently asked, Was it your favorite trip? Choosing a fave is impossible, but this one definitely rates Top 5. If you’ve not yet had the chance to go, I recommend bumping it up on the priority list.

What I loved

So many things, not the least of which was spending time with the whole fam, an increasingly rare occasion.

For our trip, we engaged a tour company (more on that to come), starting and ending in Tel Aviv. In between, we spent a week in Israel, a couple of days in Jordan, and a week in Egypt. A few highlights:

Boating on, and swimming in, the Sea of Galilee. So lovely, easy to imagine that Jesus enjoyed living most of his life in these parts.

First glimpse of Jerusalem. Memorable for pretty obvious reasons.

Garden of Gethsemane. Unlike so many other specific sites that are revered mainly by tradition, this one is absolutely the same spot Jesus knew, and where olive trees still grow.

Qumran. The story of the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls has captured my imagination ever since I was a girl. Incredible, then, to get to see the actual caves where, with the stone’s throw of a bored Bedouin boy, the remarkable saga began.

Masada. Standing hot and high above the desert, once the obsessively extravagant work of crazed King Herod, and now a sobering monument to the heights of Jewish devotion to their faith.

Dead Sea floating. Fully one-third of the Dead Sea is mineral, mostly salt. Nothing lives in this water, and bodies cannot swim or do anything other than float. And floating at sunset? Altogether otherworldly.

Old Jerusalem and the Wailing Wall. Almost impossible to overestimate the significance of these sites for the believer. So layered in meaning, from ancient times to present day.

Petra. As blazingly gorgeous and mysterious as the movies indicate. Also, much more history and significance to this site than I realized.

Pyramids of Giza + camels. Nothing compares to the first sight of these timeless monuments rising from the desert floor, exactly as millions and millions have seen them do for thousands of years. And then to descend the narrow passageway into the stifling interior of one, followed by a camel ride around their perimeter ending at the Great Sphinx… altogether a Top 10 can’t-believe-I’m-here moment.

Aswan. After the chaos of Cairo, the serenity of Aswan in Upper Egypt (that is, to the south) came as a welcome respite. Lovely Nile views, spectacular temples, and the commencement of our Nile cruise.

Nile cruise. Unexpectedly lovely. Somehow, I’d been expecting something more utilitarian and less… blissful. With its peaceful passage down the Nile and exemplary onboard service, a lovely denouement to our trip.

Mediterranean swimming. A mere block from our hotel in Tel Aviv, I think I could have bobbed in those waves forever.

100% sunshine. All day, every day. ☀️

… and not so much

In hindsight I realize I approached Egypt rather naively. I was so focused on the sights we intended to see that I didn’t really reckon with the fact that Egypt, despite its legitimate claim to our planet’s longest-lived civilization, remains today, by our Egyptologist’s own statement, a third-world country. So while I was prepared for the ginormity of Cairo and its massive population, I somehow didn’t fully brace for the chaos and poverty that goes with that. “Desperate” is the word my husband used.

For me the hardest part of this was the transactional nature of almost every routine service in Egypt (and Jordan too). We knew tipping was expected, of course, but I wasn’t prepared for this to extend beyond the usual porters and drivers and bathroom attendants to all those who stood by to accept our money for the small kindnesses I typically take for granted. Even though one of the great benefits of travel is how it teaches me to respect and appreciate the cultures of other countries, I’ll admit that in this case I often had to remind myself to set my cultural bias aside—these were their customs, and of course I had compassion for the honest financial need that drives such mercenary ambition. But it rubbed the sheen of joy off some of our experiences when we realized that almost every smiling offer of what we initially assumed to be common courtesy was initiated with the expectation of recompense.

While we were in Egypt, we also kind of forgot to take diligent care with our consumption of raw fruits and veg, so it wasn’t until some of our party experienced adverse gastronomic effects that we realized that Egypt is, in fact, one of those hotspots of the world for such maladies. Lesson learned.

What I took away

There are the little things, of course. It’s always fun to return with a particularly meaningful memento for the home, or a new dish for the menu rotation (like this fresh Israeli salad with feta, variations of which I’ve been making on repeat all month).

More substantially, the most resonant part of this trip was how it served to illuminate the Bible in fresh ways. Were I to choose a single word to sum up my impression of the Holy Land, it would be dry. It is just so, so arid, and in July, very, very hot. Both the heat and the dry made me value the simple gift of shade as never before. And of course, water. I now appreciate even more why Jesus must have chosen water as his metaphor to describe the fullness that we find when we slate our spiritual thirst with him. To listeners in this region so devoid of moisture, they must have understood this as the promise of immense relief and joy—not to mention life itself.

Further, visiting Israel, Jordan, and Egypt has reignited my curiosity for ancient history. Having now been there, I feel something of a proprietary appreciation for these places and an almost insatiable hunger to know more about the region, its people, and how it all weaves in with the Bible and the greater world context. (As to how I’ve been satisfying this particular hunger, I’ll fill you in next time when I share recommended resources.)

What I read

The tome I toted for the duration was War and Remembrance, sequel to The Winds of War. If the latter sounds familiar, it’s because I mentioned it a year ago, here.

War and Remembrance provided the perfect backdrop to our travels throughout the Near East because it’s an epic telling of the circumstances surrounding the Holocaust and World War II, which of course set the stage for the birth of the modern-day state of Israel.

“…the compelling tale of a single American family drawn into the very center of the war’s maelstrom…[War and Remembrance] capture[s] all the drama, romance, heroism, and tragedy of the Second World War.” – Amazon.com

The book is a brick (1378 pages!), which makes it an investment and surely not everyone’s cup of tea. But though it was published 50 years ago, I find Herman Wouk’s voice eminently accessible, his gift for storytelling unrivaled. Part of his brilliance is his laser-sharp focus on a specific family to illuminate the global scope of his vast subject. Wouk, who was Jewish-American, considered this pair of novels—and War and Remembrance in particular—his raison d’etre. For good reason. His incredibly well-researched work has shaped my understanding of the ramifications of this war, which we continue to live with to this day, and the reverberations of his incredible work resonate in my very soul.

Up next…

My take on traveling with a tour company, plus recommended Holy Land resources, and my answer to the most commonly asked question, Did we feel safe?

Meanwhile, I’d love to hear how you’ve been spending your summer. What’s been most memorable for you?

🌸Katherine xo