I went to Israel. Again. And now I’m back. I’m grateful for the incredible experience and all the wonderful memories.
Its funny because the other day I was out with friends and I was talking about my summer abroad in Germany and my friend joked, that was a Dr. C moment. Dr. C was our manufacturing and materials professor last semester. This professor literally seems to have lived anywhere and everywhere.and has experienced so much in his seemingly young life. People like this inspire me. I want to grow up and be like them. How sad it would be to just stay in and not get to see and or experience the world and the people everywhere.
Tonight brought back these memories of traveling to Israel and a bit with Germany but mainly the Holy Land. See I hung out with one of my new friends from Israel who just so happens to go to my school. After dinner and such we were sitting in my apartment and talking about the differences and similarities and even just the uniqueness in being in Israel. Especially to be Jewish at a christian university is a different experience. For me it has been one of much challenge. Interestingly one of the things my friend pointed out was how each of the class are taught with christian worldview and how it applies and affect the christian life. I am sooooo used to this now, that I don’t even notice it. How sad.
Anyway talking about all the good and beauty that Israel has to offer was amazing. It brought up laughter and taught me how to properly say things. It was nice and fun. However I couldn’t help but notice how sad my friend looked talking about Israel. I can’t even imagine how much my friend must miss it. I have never spent more than 2 weeks there and yet here I am writing and tearing up. Because in Israel you can be you. You don’t feel weird or out of place. Even midst struggle-some thoughts, you are among family. A family around for 2000+ years. I still remember my first few hours in Israel the first time. It looked nearly identical to California that I was convinced we flew in circles around the US for 10+ hours. We arrived at Quesaria and our tour guide picked up a handful of sand. He looked at each and everyone of us. As he let the sand sift through his fingers he spoke. He said, “it’s been 2000 years, welcome home”.