TJ8: The Cost of Living

Very little time to write this blog and even less time to edit it. Internet access comes at a steep cost here, so I bought just enough to email my family, post a few facebook status updates, and drop a quick note here. I'm in Egypt, where "cost of living" has taken on new meaning. Cost to use the Internet = $10 an hour, cost to drink a glass of water or brush my teeth = 75 cents (as long as I buy the water from my bus driver), cost to use a public restroom = free, unless I want toilet paper, in which case it costs $1.00. Experience of being away from home and seeing how other people live = PRICELESS.

Tomorrow we will be visiting the "Garbage City" which is a middle-class neighborhood made up of people who live and build their homes by recycling Cairo's trash into usable household items (and houses). I'll try to post some pictures. In the meantime, here are a few from the bus ride today.

Very typical to see laundry hanging from brightly-painted balconies.

Donkey carts share even the busiest city streets with cars and trucks.

A Bedouin shepherd boy drives his flock along the side of the road in Cairo.

Street vendors and open-air markets are everywhere!

TJ7: There's No Place Like the Airport

Today will be spent in airports and airplanes. In the morning I fly from Orlando (A) to Newark (B). That’s going to bring back a lot of memories for me, since Newark is my “home” airport and I love to look at the towns as we approach and see how many familiar landmarks I can spot. Since it’s been over twenty years since I last flew into Newark, however, this isn’t going to be as easy as it used to be, especially when you consider the fact that I have an aisle seat. Shortly after landing in Newark, I’ll be going through customs for my first-ever international flight. Frankfurt, Germany (C), is the destination but I won’t arrive until tomorrow morning, thanks to crossing seven time zones!

The fun began last night, as I struggled to get a full nine hours of sleep. I did have to unplug my phone, but with the exception of one wake-up at 4:32 a.m. I managed to hibernate long enough to recharge my batteries. My friend Theresa arrived right on time, and at 6:35 we were on the road. 

Me at airport (NASA badge censored out)

Side Note: Theresa had flat-out asked me a few weeks earlier, "Knowing me, how early do you really want me to pick you up?" My flight is scheduled for 10:35 a.m. and the airport recommends arriving two hours early for check in and security screenings (8:35), so considering the 45-minute drive to the airport, I could have told her to pick me up at 7:30. But that would have left no room for surprises: flat tires, bad weather, traffic, alligators crossing the road... So I told her 6:30.

It only took me about five minutes to check my bag (destination Cairo, visually and verbally confirmed with the young woman who tagged it) and get my boarding passes. The TSA line was HUGE. I waited about five minutes before I got to the first check point, where I showed the agent my boarding pass and NASA badge.

Side Note: Two coworkers had advised me to flash my NASA badge when going through TSA. Thank you, Dawn and Kerri!

The TSA agent scanned my badge and said, "Wow! That must be a fun job to have."
"Yes, it is," I said.
"Are you traveling alone?"
"Yes, I am."

Gate 48 ... Two and a half hours before scheduled departure.

"Let's see if we can get you in the employee line," she said. Less than a minute later, I was at the front of the line (in fact, I was the line.) I did have to take off my shoes and laptop, but nothing else. So that "arrive two hours early for check in and security screening" took a grand total of ten minutes. Here I am sitting at United Gate 48, listening to a recording of Elvis singing "Blue Christmas" and "Silent Night," and taking advantage of airport Wifi to update my blog.

It's 7:45 a.m.

TJ6: Of Dominoes, Departures, and Deranged Old Women Who Swallow Animals*

It's finally here, my departure date. That is, it is here if you count the days using the traditional Jewish method, in which a day starts at sunset. If you use the traditional American method, I won't leave until tomorrow.

I'm not sure which option I prefer at the moment. While I am undoubtedly excited and eager to get on that plane (in which case I am ready to leave TODAY), I am also scrambling to make sure I have taken care of all those little things that need to be taken care of before I go (in which case I should probably leave TOMORROW). 

What I really need to do in the meantime is get some sleep. That's because I have a plan to avoid jet lag, a plan first recommended to me back in 1999 when I flew to Alaska for two weeks. "Stay awake," I was told. "Stay awake at least 24 hours. Don't sleep on the plane and don't go to bed until your regular bedtime arrives LOCAL time at your destination. That way, you'll adjust your circadian rhythm to the local time much more quickly." Considering that it took me two weeks just to get used to Eastern Standard Time this year during the "fall back" from Daylight Savings Time, I need all the helpful advice I can get. My friend's suggestion worked in Alaska (and on the return from Alaska), so I'm following the same system on this trip. I even put it on my calendar: Wednesday, January 1, SLEEP!!!

That's because I am going to the airport at 6:30 a.m. tomorrow (or today, if you are Jewish) and flying from Orlando to Newark and then from Newark to Frankfurt. I won't arrive in Frankfurt until 6:55 a.m. FRIDAY morning. (Thank you, inventor of time zones.) Then, after sitting in the Frankfurt airport for about seven hours, I will get to Cairo at 4:30 p.m. Friday, check into my hotel, and sleep. On paper, that's 36 hours without sleep, but really it's only 29 hours without sleep. (Thank you again, inventor of time zones.) Piece of cake. With a cup of coffee. Several cups of coffee. Really strong coffee.

Side Note (just for you, Tracy!): I am not a coffee drinker. In fact, I hate coffee. I am super-sensitive to caffeine due to an accidental caffeine overdose when I was 17, and I don't like the coffee flavor either. However, when I get desperate enough, I can drink the stuff. People who know me well get a little concerned when they see me ingest more than half a cup, though. I literally start bouncing around. Literally. (I do not literally bounce off the walls, although I do figuratively bounce off the walls. On occasion, I literally bounce into the walls, but that happens even without caffeine, so just forget I mentioned it.)

Coffee will only work if I am already rested before the trip, though, which is why I plan to get a good night's sleep tonight. To make sure I sleep soundly for at least nine hours, I decided to stay up real late last night. I knew that wouldn't be a problem, since last night was New Year's Eve and everyone stays up late on New Year's Eve. In fact, my son told me he planned to stay up all night, so I knew I'd even have company.

Side Note: This is what we call the "domino effect." In order to get on Middle Eastern time so I can enjoy all of our excursions, I need to sleep Friday. In order to sleep Friday, I need to stay awake all day Thursday. In order to stay awake Thursday, I need to sleep well Wednesday. In order to sleep well Wednesday, I need to stay up late Tuesday... (Hey, at least I'm not planning to swallow a spider, although all that wriggling and jiggling and tickling would probably keep me awake as effectively as caffeine.*)

You see it coming, don't you? By 9 p.m. last night, both my son and I were fast asleep. That's because my plan didn't extend back far enough. I should have gone to bed early Monday, but I didn't. And Tuesday I worked out at the YMCA and then went on a grueling kayak trip, so by the time I got home and showered and ate dinner I was ready to stretch out on the couch for a little while. Just a little while.

So here I am tonight, hoping I will be tired enough to sleep soundly so that I will be able to stay awake on the plane tomorrow (or today if you are Jewish) without having to ingest enough caffeine to draw the attention of airport security. 
Or a spider. 

*If you don't recognize the literary allusion, see http://www.poppyfields.net/poppy/songs/oldwoman.html

TJ5: Moses, Mt. Sinai, and Me

Scooter gave out copies of The Story for Christmas this year, with the idea that reading one chapter a day would allow a person to get through the entire Bible every month. I'm not sure yet if I'm a fan of the book ... admittedly, it is an easy way to see the Biblical narrative all at once, in chronological order, with some integration of Old and New Testament passages. However, in the editorial process, Lucado and Frazee were forced (inevitably) to choose which parts of that narrative to omit. The end result: the reader gets part of the story rather than "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." (As anyone who has read Avi's novel Nothing but the Truth can tell you, a partial truth is often no better than an outright lie.)

Regardless, I agreed -- as part of Scooter's advisory team -- to read through the book and be prepared to share my insights at our monthly staff meeting. This week's reading focused on the life of Moses, including the Exodus account (chapter 4), the receiving of the covenant at Mt. Sinai (chapter 5), and all forty years of Israel's wilderness journey (chapter 6). Whew. Four books of the Bible summarized in forty-five pages. At least Lucado and Frazee cut out all the census passages.

Side Note: The first time I read through the entire Bible, I came to the conclusion that the word Deuteronomy meant "Thank God, I am finally through with Numbers."

Moses at Mt. Sinai

But I digress. The reason I am blogging about all this stuff in the middle of my Tour Journal is, of course, that these passages describe the lands I will be visiting in just a few days now. Egypt. The Nile. The Red Sea. Sinai. Even a pre-dawn climb up Mount Sinai. In theory, at least, we will be retracing the route that Moses took when he led the Hebrews out of slavery.

Now there's something to ponder. A mountain so holy that any living thing that touched it was to be put to death -- and not just any death, but a death that did not allow the executioner to touch the victim. (Lucado and Frazee chose to keep that detail in their Exodus synopsis.) And you want me to climb it? Glad that part of the tour is optional. No, seriously, I plan to make the ascent, but only because I don't believe this (Gebel Musa) is the same Mt. Sinai where God rested his glory for so many months. (I certainly could be wrong, but I prefer the Wyatts' still-scorched Jebel al-Lawz, which lies farther east in Saudi Arabia. That's the setting I chose when writing The Voice.)*

Jebel Al-Lawz, Saudi Arabia

Tradition says Gebel Musa is Mt. Sinai, but the tradition dates to two thousand years after the actual incident, so it is a tradition that leaves a lot of room for skepticism.

And here's the second part of my internal war over this tour. How much of what I will be shown is genuine, and how much is Constantinian-traditional? Back to my desire for a time machine. But that isn't going to happen, so I will find myself constantly analyzing what I am seeing and comparing it with the various theories I've researched over the last twenty years. I wish I could just shut down my internal skeptic (note I said "skeptic" and not "cynic" -- like Thomas, I am willing to be convinced if the evidence is compelling) but "just believe" has never been one of my mottos. I see no virtue in blind faith. I am grateful that I serve a God who commands me to love him with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength. 

Side Note: Jesus added that mind part to the original command in Deuteronomy, probably because he was speaking to a post-Hellenic audience who had adopted a Greek mindset -- the same mindset of the culture in which I grew up.

I could go on about this all day, but I think I'm just going to end it here. 

*For a detailed explanation of the reasons for preferring this site, see Mary Neil Wyatt, "Mt. Sinai," at http://www.british-israel.ca/sinai.htm.

TJ4: Be Afraid...Be Very Afraid...Or Not

So, realizing that my previous post is all about being afraid, I've been waiting for well-meaning "brothers and sisters in Christ" to quote Bible verses at me ... you know, those "comforting" verses about how we aren't supposed to be afraid because perfect love casts out fear and we haven't been given a spirit of fear, blah blah blah.

Side note: I am not in the least afraid to travel to the Middle East, though some of my friends seem very concerned for my well-being and have, like Agabus, tried to discourage my from going on this trip. The violence that erupts there, in my opinion, is no more likely to kill me than the violence that erupts in the town where I live. However, if it turns out that I am wrong, I don't mind leaving this world while doing something I've dreamed of for years. It seems to me a much better death than being hit by a semi on the interstate.

Where was I? Oh, yes, pondering the fact that I am afraid I will fail to enjoy this trip because I am (still) so worried that it isn't really going to happen. And feeling a bit guilty about this fear. Waiting for my friends to chastise me with "comforting" Bible verses. I've been blessed with friends who are a lot more sympathetic and forgiving than Job's friends were, however, so this anticipated barrage hasn't happened. My reaction to the silence? I opened my favorite online concordance and began looking up all the scriptures that contain fear or afraid so I could beat myself up. In the process, I saw all the familiar verses, but I also found quite a few that are less-frequently quoted. Here is a collection of ones I found especially interesting in light of my upcoming trip.

"Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt, for I will make you into a great nation there." (Genesis 46:3) Egad, I hope not. Sarah can keep that particular miracle all to herself--I want no part of it.

"Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again." (Exodus 14:13) Probably true, considering that I have no foreseeable plans to visit Egypt again. 

"You are about to pass through the territory of your relatives the descendants of Esau, who live in Seir. They will be afraid of you, but be very careful." (Deuteronomy 2:4) Oh dear. I had no idea the Jordanians would be afraid of me. I will be very careful.

I am well aware that I am taking these verses out of context. On a more serious note, I did find myself heartened by the reminder that the only fear I need in my life is a fear of God. More important, I was reminded that God himself is understanding and forgiving of my other fears: 

I took you from the ends of the earth,    from its farthest corners I called you. I said, ‘You are my servant’;    I have chosen you and have not rejected you.  So do not fear, for I am with you;    do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you;    I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.  

(Isaiah 41:9-10)    I think I'll hang on to this one for a while.

TJ3: When Reality Strikes

It just hit me: the reality of this trip still hasn't hit me.

Langston Hughes said it best:

What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat? 
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags 

like a heavy load. Or does it explode?
Or does it, perhaps, remain a dream and only evermore a dream? Does it refuse to enter the realm of the real?

I hope, in my case, that reality hits BEFORE the trip is over. I've dreamed of this trip for so long, saved and planned only to have my plans come to nothing, that I'd given up on it ever happening. Even now, something deep inside me is afraid to hope, afraid of a last-minute change in plans, afraid that my dream will once again be deferred. Not until my feet are on Israeli soil will I relax, will I believe.  

I do not want to emulate Thomas. Like me he avowed, "Not until I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, will I believe" (John 20:25). Poor Thomas, who was so afraid of disappointment that he missed the joy of the Resurrection as he wasted precious days languishing in sorrow and despair. 

But it would be even worse to suffer the fate of those who waited all their lives for their Messiah and then went to their graves still waiting, still dreaming, unaware that their dream had been fulfilled. As Jesus said to those inhabitants of Jerusalem so many years ago, "If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes....because you did not recognize the time of God’s coming to you" (Luke 19:42-44).  

What a shame it would be, if I were to miss this entire experience because of a refusal to recognize it for what it is!

TJ2: Luggage Theology

Yesterday's blog was all about the "practical" preparations for my upcoming journey to the Holy Land -- mostly about packing my bags. I promised that today I would focus more on the theological aspect of the trip. One thing Asbury Theological Seminary has taught me, however, is that theology is intensely practical. So perhaps the packing of my luggage was a good place to start this reflection, and I want to take a moment to revisit it.

Check-in, carry-on, and personal
item ready to go!

First, ponder the significance of packing three bags. Those who are into Biblical numerology know that three is the number most often used to represent the nature and fullness of God, who is depicted throughout the New Testament as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Even in the Old Testament this number is associated with God, especially when he is interacting with humanity (take, for example, Genesis 18:1-5). Three bags are the ideal for any trip involving use of a commercial airline: one large bag to check in and reclaim later, one smaller bag to stow in the overhead compartment in case the larger bag gets lost, and one personal item (e.g. purse or briefcase) for things that will be utilized during the flight. 

Not to take the analogy too far, but the check-in bag is like God the Father (who is sometimes mistakenly viewed as "watching us from a distance"): he has absolutely everything I need to get through life, but sometimes I push him to the periphery of my life and forget to go to him as often as I should. (Maybe I put him in the baggage hold because my life is just too crowded to squeeze him in...something else to ponder. Have I put weight and size restrictions on God?) Sometimes, when we've been apart for a while, it is hard for me to recognize him in my life...rather like staring at the baggage carousel waiting for my bag to appear. The carry-on bag is like God the Son, who seems much closer and is more easily approached, the very image of his Father but come to earth in the flesh to experience life in the same way we do...flying along with us in coach, and just as cramped there in that overhead compartment...yet without sin. (I will be stuck in the center seat from New York to Frankfurt, and I am still grumbling about that, but I have a feeling my carry-on bag will not grumble.) And the personal item is like the Holy Spirit, who dwells in me and guides me moment by moment throughout my daily wanderings, giving me specific gifts for specific situations...in this case, a Kindle reader with enough material loaded on it to keep me occupied during nine hours of flight and seven hours of airport layovers.

Anyway, that's enough luggage theology for one blog. I was just trying to make the point that God shows up in all the little things we think and do if only we have eyes to see. For theology is simply the way we think about God. Everyone is a theologian to some extent because everyone has some opinion about God -- even atheists are theologians. 

Tomorrow, more spiritual stuff!