Category Archives: Faith
February Arctic Cold Front
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Little Miracles
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Oh Little Town of Bethlehem
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Oh, Little Town of Bethlehem
December 11, 2010
A local church puts on an exhibit that takes you a step back in time to Bethlehem. I have studied a lot of Jewish traditions, and getting to visit a reenactment of the Bethlehem of 2000 years ago is a big treat for me. My mother and my Sis “BD” and her kids “B” and “L” came with us.
Kids at the Bethlehem Sign and posing with the kings.
Kids at the Bethlehem Sign and posing with the kings.
Having the kings wandering around the place is neat and all, but, in reality, it is one of those things that is just not accurately portrayed in the world. The kings didn’t visit baby Yeshua (Jesus) in the stable; they visited the “young child” in a house (Matthew 2:11).
The kids always love the animals. Anna says, “Come here, sweet pony, you should let me love you and pet you and …” The pony was totally occupied with eating its grain and did not pay attention to the kids whatsoever. Anna said she wanted to climb the fence and jump on its back. I reminded her that her legs were too long and the pony was too short. She said she didn’t care, but she resisted the urge.
The “townspeople” were holding a large Boer goat for people to pet. Of course, I couldn’t resist an animal to scratch on. Stewart said he thought, ” No…she won’t touch the stinky goat… she knows better…..”, then yep, I touched the goat. I honestly thought, “Surely they would not bring an ‘intact’ goat up for people to love on!” but alas, they did, and now my hand smells like a rutty ol’ billy goat. Thankfully, they posted the ladies with “healing oils” to be the next on the route. Stewart let them rub peppermint oil on his hand. As soon as I discovered the oil smelled good, I rubbed my stinky hand on Stewart’s peppermint hand to help with my goat smell. It helped greatly for me, but unfortunately, some of the goat smell rubbed off as the peppermint was transferred. Stewart was not happy about that at all.
I believe the synagogue was my favorite part. The “Rabbi” there was very informative, so much so that I forgot to take pictures of it, but I did snap one of Austin while we listened. The man talked about how different the meaning of words was from Hebrew to Greek. For example, the word “on” to us means like a cup sitting “on” a table, but to the Jewish people, “on” means fully committed. He said that unless we knew some of the history of the Bible times, we can not fully understand the meaning of the Bible. I was so pleased, that is exactly what I have been telling people. He spoke of the “Shema,” and I tried to talk Anna into saying the Shema in Hebrew, but she was too shy.
My sis asked me why the Jewish people write God like G-D. I explain to her that they reverence HIM so much that they do not write his name for fear of writing it wrong and having to destroy it or writing it in vain. It makes me think how far away we are compared to them. When people say “Oh My God” all the time about every little thing. We have no reverence for or fear of GOD.
We walked past the “Inn” that had “no room” and got to pet a donkey that didn’t bite, unlike mine, who does.
We stopped at the carpenter shop where he explained the tools used and gave Adam a shaving from a stool he was making. I am not sure if Adam was thinking it was silly to have a piece of wood or if the smell of the cedar was what caused the face he made in that picture.
We walked on around to the yarn-dying booth and Anna and Adam dyed a piece, being careful not to get the pomegranate juice on their clothes.
A couple of years ago, when we came to Bethlehem, we were intrigued by “finger-weaving” so much that when we returned home, I had to look it up, and we all learned to finger-weave. Adam took a keen interest in it, so we took a picture beside the booth.
Next, we visited the potter’s wheel. Adam and Anna take a turn at trying to mold it into something. Watching it makes me think of the scripture:
Isa 64:8 But now, O LORD, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.
If only we would be more like the clay, to just accept the firm guidance of our master’s hand, who only wants to mold us into something beautiful, worthy of being the vessel to hold the Holy Ghost and the anointings HE bestows on us.
The music shop family played us a little tune that was actually quite good and gave each kid a flute to take home. Austin looks at me like, “Are you serious? Something noisy?” Adam takes the “rocker” pose as he blows on his flute. They were told real quick by me that they are not going to be blowing it while we were at Bethlehem.
We were getting close to the “pinkie dance” circle, and I jokingly asked Austin if he was going to pinkie dance. The look was the answer to my question.
Anna checked out the feel of the grains. The little girls in the booth were talking amongst themselves when one of them did the common ” Oh My God!” saying. Quickly, they tried to cover it up by saying, “God has blessed us with the baby Jesus…” I said, “Now you know, real Hebrew children would not have said that.” They looked at me like, “Uh oh.” I just smiled and moved on.
We peek through the window and look at the wedding party. My mom pointed out the Menorah in the middle of the table. Anna says, “They are supposed to set it in the window for all to see.”
“I know, but they don’t know that, sweetie,” was my reply.
Anna was too shy when we first arrived to do the pinkie dance. I asked her once again before we left if she wanted to. She said, “Yeah, I am in the mood now!” I asked “L” if she was going to, “If Anna will, I will.” So off they went, dragging Adam along.
I left Bethlehem feeling closer and connected this year than in years past. I know it is from all I have learned and studied, and the beliefs that make me feel a sense of community.
When we returned home, my two little kids pulled out their “Hebrew” costumes and played “Bethlehem”. It makes my heart smile to see that they, too, hold our beliefs dear. Anna repeated to Adam what she heard tonight, ” Shalom, have you traveled far to Bethlehem?”
~Becky~
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The LORD Looketh on the Heart
The LORD Looketh on the Heart
Sunday School today was kinda rough for me. My teacher brought up how he had trained his dog to obey. Well, this past Tuesday we laid my best friend, Foxy, to rest.
Rest in peace, my faithful friend. I will miss you.
The good Lord had answered my prayer that He take her rather than let her suffer from the heartworms that had made her so sick, but it was heartbreaking for me to lose my friend.
The lesson was that at first, he had to put a choke collar on his dog and teach it to heel. Then eventually, he could let it off the chain and just say the word heel and the dog would mind. Through obedience came freedom.
All I could think about was how Foxy didn’t apply to that idea. She was a rescue dog and had been abused as a puppy. When we first got her, she would shriek if she thought someone was going to touch her. I would coax her and talk sweetly to her until she learned to trust me. Only by having love for her and understanding what she had been through did I get anywhere with her.
It was love and patience and understanding that changed her into my best friend. She didn’t do things for me out of fear of being punished, but because she loved me so much, she wanted to please me. She would freak out if a chain were put on her. I assume that went back to her abuse, but it wasn’t something we could do to her. Granted, she was no show dog, hunting dog, or herd dog. She didn’t win any ribbons or trophies for me to show off to my friends, equating her worth. She just simply loved me.
She always wanted to be by my side because she loved me. If I sat down outside anywhere, she was by my side. If I hadn’t noticed she was beside me, she would daintily place her little foot on me as if to say, “Mom, I am here, please love me.”
If I were in the house sitting somewhere, oftentimes she was beneath me under the house… whichever room I was in, she was under. I suppose she could hear my voice to know where I was.
When I left in the car and came home, she met me at the gate, yipping with glee that I was home, to let me know she missed me. She nipped playfully at my fingertips to say “hello”. You see, she wasn’t trained to obey; she was shown how to love, and through that love for me, she was my friend, not a servant. Granted, she obeyed the rules not to go out in the road or to do things that were not approved of, like chasing the cats, but all I had to do was scold her in a firm tone. She hated to disappoint me; she would drop her head and tuck her tail and come to me as if to say, “I am sorry, Mom, forgive me.”
You see, there was a difference in the way my dog was obedient and how my teacher’s dog was obedient. I am not saying what he said was wrong; I am only saying there are different ways to teach and different learning styles depending on the background and history of the one being taught.
I thank God that (1 Samuel 16:7) … the LORD seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the LORD looketh on the heart. I also thank God that He knows exactly what we need to be where we need to be in Him!
~Becky~
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