Israel revisited: adventure = muddy, gross, and soaked feet

Mark Batterson, in Wild Goose Chase says that “most of us will have no idea where we are going most of the time. And I
know that is unsettling. But circumstantial uncertainty also goes by
another name: Adventure.” He explains that” you never know where you are going to end up.  Jesus never promised safety or certainty or predictability.  And He certainly didn’t die on the cross to tame us.  He died to make us dangerous.  He died to invite us into a life of spiritual adventure.  And if you will have the courage to come out of the cage and chase the Wild Goose, life will turn into another day, another adventure!”

That has somewhat turned out to be reality on this race.  From packing 7 people into a 4 person taxi to trying to figure out how to communicate through charades because you don’t know the language, life is certainly an adventure.  But I have realized that with adventure, comes dirty, gross, and soaked feet.

The above picture was taken at Skadar Lake in Montenegro.  An absoultely beautiful place.  This lake captured the beauty and very essence of God’s creation.  I spent most of the day trying to catch my breath at what He had done in this place.  But like every other country we have visited thus far, iit was a little rainy and therfore, muddy. 

This adventure started with a decision to hop on a bus and hope for the best in getting there.  Please note, a deicsion that was not taken lightly by this girl.  I am one that assess risks before I do anything.  This day, I chose to let reason go.  And I am glad that I did.  We were dropped off VERY literally on the side of the road, left to wonder which way to go.  We walked one way on a shoulder that was the width of a pencil.  Hazardous, yes. So, we thought the railroad tracks a better option. Fully in working order.  Still hazardous, yes.  But perhaps better at this point than the very tangible and fast cars.  We walked to a little town, ate lunch, and took a boat ride.  It was a glorious afternoon. 

 

 Getting home consisted of waving down the bus, literally, on the side of the road in the pitch black of night.  MIght I add, that it was raining and the wind was a bit tornadic.  The bus was almost 30 minutes late and I was left to wonder how we were going to make it back, or if we were.  Obviously, we did, muddy feet and all.

Another adventure happened as we were leaving Montenegro and left my feet a little gross, if you will.  This adventure could have quite possibly been on a hidden camera show.  At many points during the night, I thought we were being “punked.”  I fully expected Ashton Kutcher to board the bus at any given moment.  But it never happened, it never happened.  Instead with each stop, more people boarded the bus and turned the next 12 hours of our lives into what seemed like an eternity.  We were the only ones on the bus to start out but the numbers quickly grew at each stop.  However, the funny thing was that everyone that boarded seemed to know each other.  They talked and chatted and shared meals together AND cigarettes.  Lots of cigarettes.  The hazardous part of this adventure was getting lung cancer.  The nice bus hostess, they have those in other countries that are like stewardesses on planes, pointed at the no smoking sign and said it was okay for us to smoke, NO PROBLEM.  Yes, there is a problem because there was no ventilation.  And we spent the rest of the trip fighting to get the vents open.  Each stop not only introduced us to more passengers, more smoking passengers, but also goods that were loaded under our seats.  We kept trying to figure out what was going on and came to the conclusion that we were part of a smuggling ring.  A smuggling ring that included a man that meowed on the bus (no joke), a large man that looked like the bad guy in Dumb and Dumber that had a snore that rivaled the insane amount of sweat he produced WHILE sleeping, bus stops that only had squatty potties and therefore left our shoes not so much muddy but well…., getting through the borders with only our passports checked, not the smokers, and finally getting dropped off on the curb in Turkey.  The redeeming part of it all.  We were dropped off by a lightpost that had the word TRUST in plain English written on it.  Isn’t that what adventure is about?  Real Goose chasing adventure? 

And then there is Israel.  Which in my mind was the epitome of adventure.  Exploring where Jesus walked.  You can’t get much more exciting than that.  But it was this adventure that left my feet first, muddy then soaked.  We role into the Tel-Aviv airport well after dark and get on a bus to go stay the night at a park by the Sea of Galilee.  We pull up and unpack our stuff.  One by one, cats started coming out of the woodwork.  And not just a few.  It was almost like we were the entertainment for them that night.  But we slept in what seemed to be and smell like the litter box.  Once again, it rained. And not just any rain.  But a deep, gutteral groan of the sky.  So we packed our stuff in the newly caked mud.  Mud that I tried 3 times to get off my chacos to avoid walking around with what appeared to be ski shoes, made of mud.   Mud = 3.  Chacos = 0.  Even better, the fly on the tent wasn’t closed all the way and my travel cube was blown out of the tent.  Rain = 1.  Clothes = 0.  I packed them, wet and set out to explore the Holy Land.  It was raining.  So out views of this amazing place were a little jaded by rain drops and unbrellas. 

(Below is Capernaum)