Susan and I took a quick trip to Israel last week. Some of you may remember the story of a little boy named Roy I met on a flight from Paris to Atlanta six years ago. Well, his dad Steve invited us to Roy’s Bar Mitzvah to be held at Massada on April 21 and 22. Susan and I landed in Tel Aviv on Sunday afternoon to be welcomed by a downcast father. “We’ve got to talk,” Steve said. “Due to the volcanic eruption in Iceland, the Paris airport is shut down and Roy can’t get here. We’re going to have to postpone the celebration for a week. I am so sorry. I wanted to inform you but you had already left before we knew for sure.”
So what do you say? The whole reason we made a trip had just been canceled. But I knew Steve already felt horrible and I knew God had arranged for us to be there, so I just said, “Don’t worry about us, Steve. We’re happy to be here and we’ll pray that something works out where the celebration can still take place.” Steve said there was really no hope for the Bar Mitzvah to happen. The dinner was canceled, the rabbi was canceled, the photographer was canceled, and fifty (or so) people were asked to re-schedule for the next week. Thankfully all the guests were from Israel except us and Steve’s sister from New York City.
So for a few days, Susan and I lived with Steve, his wife Anat, two-year-old Hilla, and three-year-old Sagi in Binyamina near the historical city of Caesarea on the Mediterranean Sea. We happened to be there for two national holidays. The equivalent of our Memorial Day was celebrated Sunday night and Monday. On this holiday, all Jewish citizens remembered the fallen soldiers from the past sixty-three years. A television station dedicated the day to the memory of those who had given their lives. Pictures were shown and relatives spoke on camera about their loved ones. Periodically a siren sounded throughout the country and all stood in silence to remember those that had made the ultimate sacrifice for their nation. Monday night the grieving turned to celebration as Independence Day began. Food was enjoyed, flags were waved, and fireworks lit up the skies of the small coastal town. All day Tuesday we were on the top of Mount Carmel for a cookout. Most of the people we met assumed we were Jewish and asked when we were planning to immigrate. When they discovered we were Christians we had some very interesting conversations. Our new friends were very intelligent, very friendly, and very talkative. Children played, people sang and danced, and we all enjoyed delicious food.
Tuesday night, Steve burst into our room yelling, “God may be answering your prayers!” Roy’s mom had found a way to Israel through Spain. For a long time Steve made numerous phone calls to try to bring everything back together. Sixteen hours later we found ourselves at the Dead Sea checking into the Massada Guest House. More people came to the celebration than they had originally planned. Thirteen-year-old Roy was surrounded by friends and family at a huge feast held in his honor. We were wakened at 4:30 Thursday morning to take the cable car up the historic Massada mountain to watch the sun rise. There, at an ancient synagogue, the Torah was read and the rabbi welcomed Roy to manhood before the God of Israel.
To tell you the truth, when I think of this trip, my head starts spinning. We’ve been trying to encourage one another lately to say “yes” to our Heavenly Father… no matter what He asks. I’ve come to the conclusion that God likes roller coasters. In six or seven days our plans probably changed a dozen times. Most of the time the only profitable thing we could do was pray. (I think I hear God whispering, “Exactly! And believe I can do all things!”) But that’s the challenge in walking by faith, isn’t it? It is easy to rejoice when everything’s going according to schedule, but what happens when a little volcano shuts down an entire continent? “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in Me.” Jesus said this to his disciples a few hours before their world turned upside down. His encouragement is the same today.
As Susan and I lived in a Jewish home and walked in a foreign neighborhood and met a diverse people, I felt God’s pleasure. When we arrived home, Steve sent an e-mail that made me think. If we are simply kind… if we will simply pray… if, by God’s grace, we simply say “yes” to his invitations, maybe it makes a difference. “Dear Dana and Susan, Thanks for the prayers and great wishes. They surely did something and maybe thanks to those prayers this whole event occurred after all. Thanks! Steve.”
“In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:16