The Times I Was Afraid in Israel

There weren't any.

 That's right.  I was never afraid for one second.

So that title should really be:

The Times I Was NOT Afraid in Israel.

If I had had time, and if my beloved pastor had not been with me, I think I might have been afraid HERE.

But I didn't and he was, so instead it became the stuff of which legends are made!

By the way, we had an armed guard with us on that trip to Petra, which is in Jordan.

  I hardly saw him.  I was neither particularly comforted nor afraid.

We also passed what our guide told us was an unusual rendezvous of Israeli troops and tanks beside the highway 

beneath the Golan Heights.

I was not afraid; I was touched.

Our driver, Eleazar, pulled off to the shoulder, hopped off the bus, and took the kid standing guard two bottles of cold water.

He was drinking from one as we pulled away.

Going to the Dome of the Rock, which is under Muslim control, 

is certainly serious business, but I was not afraid.

We had to be very covered (I wore my jogging suit with jacket).

We could not bow our heads or close or eyes--no prayer allowed?

We prayed with our eyes open and forward!

In the Holy of Holies!

Without fear!

I was certainly not afraid to climb on that big 777 at Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv. Their security is so much more sensible than ours.

They almost laughed at my little bag of 3 ounce liquids!

None of us had to remove our shoes or jackets!

But some suitcases were checked very extensively--not mine, however.

I did not look around at my fellow passengers with as much fear as I have been known to do here in the USA!

If you get an opportunity to go to Israel, please do not pass it up because you think it is too dangerous.

I did that for years and missed the opportunity to go with Jack.

I do not, however, wish to question God's timing.

It was His time for me to go.

Thank you, God!

I'll Never Be The Same Again.