Life in Jerusalem

A Weathered Support Beam

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Tue, 21 Aug 2007 01:56:00 +0000

Construction on new apartments in Jerusalem is ongoing and necessary. There is a Scripture in the Bible that describes Jerusalem as a "city compacted together." I continue to be amazed at the changing face of this city, especially when I compare photos from when we first arrived here in 1980. Our own neighborhood has completely changed since my children were little. It used to be that shepherds would bring their flocks into the fields around our building to graze on the land. They still bring them, but the poor sheep find little grazing grounds.

Since I walk nearly everyday for exercise, I am able to check on the progress of the new apartment complexes going up all around us. Even before the entire building is completed, families move in to their apartments.

I am taken with the simplicity techniques of this country, utilizing the old way of construction that is common for this region: rope pullies for plastic buckets to bring construction materials to a higher level, wheel barrels for transporting of supplies, rocks and old wooden beams used to support the structure under construction, etc.

These old wood pieces are used to support the structure of a building as the cemet is setting and bricks are put in place. They are the first thing to go up and one of the last to come down before the Jerusalem stone facing is put into place. The splintered and weathered beams are used over and over, and transported from building site to building site, so that after awhile, they themselves look pretty useless - except for this purpose of being a "support beam." So much so, in fact, that at the annual Lag b'Omer, children go to these sites and gather the old beams to build a huge bon fire. Sometimes, however, after a site is completed, these same beams will sit in a huge pile through the winter elements and look like they've been completely forgotten -- until the next construction project gets under way when they are gathered up and used once again.

One day as I passed a pile of these discarded gray beams on one of my walks, I realized that my life has been like that: a support beam. I take great satisfaction out of being one of those used to support an ongoing structure being built, and know that my life is not represented as the building itself, the lovely interior, or the beautiful Jerusalem stone facing. I prefer to consider myself as one that comes alongside of another who needs my support, and discarded to a "pile" after its use, only to be picked up later by another for the same purpose.

I think submission to God's purposes for my life have often looked like I have been discarded in a pile of "throways," when in fact, He is preparing to use me as a support in another up and coming structure site.

So be it. I am content, and resting in His shalom through the winter elements, meanwhile.

Powerful Musicians

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Thu, 26 Jul 2007 05:44:00 +0000

Musicians and singers are powerful: They have the ability to elicit a response from a crowd of people. This requires a character in the musician that demands strict discipline, heart humility, and a clear mandate of purpose, without which, the elicitation is simply self-serving. In biblical times, those who served the Most High understood their role, and as a result, their honed craft served a higher purpose than simply a favorable crowd-appreciation response. These were seeking a much greater life purpose with their musical ability.

David, the shepherd teen, was such a one. He had all the qualities that any modern-day musical group would deem worthy of hire: Highly skilled musician and singer, very articulate, excels in the ability to communicate musically, very handsome - stands out from the crowd. With this impressive qualifying list, someone in the King's high court of Israel recommended this shepherd teen for the job of "first musician" to play during the King's many high anxiety-insanity moments when evil spirits would assault him. From the first time David played and sang, the King's response was deep shalom within his soul. He was hired. This inexperienced young musician was not only good looking, skilled, and articulate, he was exceptionally anointed from the Holy One of Israel!

For years I played and sang for the crowds...I learned how to get the emotional response I was looking for. But then, a serious "heart" operation from a God-intervention, caused me to line up my motivation. I had to relearn my craft all over again, and the most important lesson I learned is what will I do with the God-given power in a crowd of people? Will I own it? - or will I allow God to use me to bring His shalom upon the people? It was a conscious decision of my own will to to choose the latter.

Recently, we had such a musician come to play his instrument in Jerusalem before 3,000 Christian people representing 30 nations. Pedro Eustache reminds me of what King David must have been like. He had similar Davidic qualities, but the characteristic that stood out the most was his deep humility, reverance, and love for God above all else.

When a musician truly owns these qualities, the music that flows is more than beautiful. It creates an atmosphere in which the people present tangibly sense a shalom from on High; we sense God is present and we respond with our emotions accordingly. From that same posture I, too, have determined to play, sing, and communicate through my music until there is no more breath to breathe into my instrument.

Listen to Pedro - a truly anointed musician - play the ancient Armenian duduk flute (visit his website):

Gather the Worshipers

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Tue, 24 Jul 2007 04:14:00 +0000

THERE ARE APPOINTED TIMES AND SEASONS when God calls His people apart from the mundane - as a corporate body - to simply worship Him. Then there are other specially appointed times where He has arranged a meeting place, gathering together His people from the four corners of the earth, with a divine mandane to read His Word and "wait" upon Him: Bringing the Israelites into the desert out of Egypt; waiting at the foot of Mount Sinai for the giving of the Torah; the regathering of the exiles from Babylon in Jerusalem with Nehemiah; 120 in the upper room in Jerusalem with the Disciples of Yeshua. (Photo above - Ron Cantrell: Crowds of Christians at the International Convention Center Jerusalem, July 22-25, 2007)

The purpose of gathering the worshipers is clear: God has something important to impart which requires our full and undivided attention. By leaving our homes and normal business, and "camp out" in His presence, we are more able to hear from His Ruach Ha Kodesh. (photo-Ron Cantrell: Pastor Jack Hayford of Church on the Way in Los Angeles, with the Foursquare Convention of 3,000, Member of Knesset Benny Alon, shofar blowers)

This week there were two such gatherings in Jerusalem, in fact, simultaneously: Three thousand Christians gathered from 30 nations at the Jerusalem Convention Center, and thousands of Jewish families from Israel and the nations gathered at the Western Wall Plaza to commenorate Tisha B'Av, the destruction of the Temple. Traditionally, the Temple Mount Faithful attempt to set up a foundation stone for the Third Temple on Tisha B'av, and the police routinely prevent them from doing so. The occasion is remembered as the anniversary of the destruction of the First Temple in 586 BCE and that of the Second Temple in 70 CE, both said to have occurred on the same calendar date. (Photos-Ron Cantrell: Tisha B'av worshipers gather in Western Wall plaza for all night vigil)

As our Jewish neighbhors read Lamentations all night long in the Western Wall plaza, crying out with a passion to rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem. . . (Photo-Ron Cantrell: Reading Lamentations all night, remembering the destruction of the Temple)

. . . the Christians were pleading God for a fresh anointing of the Spirit of God upon their lives as they returned to the nations from where they gathered.

(Photos below-Ron Cantrell: Worship leader Tommy Walker and the backup ensemble)

May the One who hears our heart's cry, answer from Heaven, and empower His people to carry out His purposes according to His Word, especially in this hour. May His Word go forth from Zion - with a fresh and greater anointing. Amen.

Pleading the Cause

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Sun, 15 Jul 2007 17:26:00 +0000

It is incumbent upon us to aid those in need, to defend the helpless - the poor, oppressed, widows, orphans - and plead the cause of those who are powerless to do so themselves. Sometimes we must knock on the doors of the powerful, and then keep on knocking until we are heard. We have many examples of such in the Bible. Such was the case today of several hundred Israeli's (myself included) lead by the Hebrew University students from Jerusalem and Beersheva. I have learned that the Israeli students are not content to settle for the status quo, and have a deep concern for the peoples of all nations who suffer persecution and genocide. "Never again," once a resolve of the Jewish people after the Holocaust, has been enlarged to include all peoples who are targeted for a genocide.

Keren (pictured above), the Jerusalem student-in-charge addresses the international media, student body, and Israeli public by pleading the cause of the Sudanese refugees now in Israel. Several other students took turns with their own powerful plea on behalf of the who could not do so themselves. Then a refugee who came to Israel two years ago took the microphone to tell his story. It was horrifying to hear about the children stolen off the streets of Egypt or a family member who had to go to a hospital, only to have an organ removed and sold to an Egyptian patient. His personal testimony motivated those of us present to stand in solidarity for a people forgotten. The majority of those who have come to Israel are Christians from south Sudan. How appropriate that my husband and I would represent the Christian community in the crowd of Jewish Israelis.

On the ground were hundreds of letters written to the Prime Minister of Israel, pleading with the government to not return the refugees back to Egypt, knowing full well what their fate will be. Then, upon direction of the students, we each grabbed letters and marched together - refugees, students, mothers with strollers, children, the elderly - to the entrance of the Knesset across from the Prime Minister's office, where we held up all the letters! The students waited by the fence and gates, with no small noise, and they were certainly heard!

View recent film of the refugees:

The Face of Suffering

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Thu, 12 Jul 2007 16:16:00 +0000

Often you can look at a person's face and read it like a book. Some people really hide what is going on inside of them, whereas, others are more transparent. The Sudanese refugees living in at the Wohl Rose Gardens in Jerusalem across from the Israeli Knesset reflect a transparency that is difficult to miss.

The extreme suffering these families have had to endure in recent years is something none of us will ever have to experience. When you meet one who has experienced such suffering, what do you want to do? Bring comfort, right? Extending some kind of merciful expression is a normal human response.

No doubt my mothering instincts have been kindled in the past 10 days with the Sudanese refugees resident about 15 minutes from my home. I have to do something. Thankfully, each day I was able to perform some practical, simple expression of humanity. Calling Keren everyday helped me decide what needed to be done. I have been concerned about the children with no toys to play with and so we purchased balls of all shapes and sizes. What child doesn't love balls? Included in our goody bags for the children were cloth cuddly dolls, crayons, pens, coloring books, picture books, colorful hair pins for the girl's hair, lotions for the mother's, etc.

Looking at the faces of those who have suffered tells the whole story. May the One who brings comfort to those who suffer, bring healing to their hearts and make them whole. Amen.

View the story of a young Sudanese child rescued from Egypt by Israeli intervention

Angels of Mercy

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Sun, 08 Jul 2007 15:36:00 +0000

"I found them!"

"Found who?" My husband inquired. "The students caring for the refugees!" I was so excited I could hardly contain myself.

I first got a hold of Eytan Schwartz, well-known for winning "Ha Shagrir" - the Israeli version of "The Ambassador" TV program. Eytan is a spokesperson for CARD, Israeli's concerned for the Darfur conflict and the refugees. They were now forefront in bringing awareness to Israeli's, especially since over 2,000 Sudanese refugees are now within Israel's borders. Eytan encouraged me to contact the students (photo above) in charge who were directly assisting the refugees.

Keren, a very kind and soft-spoken Israeli student studying at Hebrew Unive rsity in Jerusalem was pleased with an offer to help. "We desperately need backpacks and simple carry cases for the refugees to place donated clothing and other personal items. Thank you for being persistent in finding us."

"We'll get it to you right away." Making our way to Mahane Yehuda, the open market in Jerusalem, we found a vendor with just what we were looking for (above photo), at just the right price. I think we nearly bought him out. Clearly, he was having a good day.

Delivering the bags to the refugees was a delight. How grateful they were to finally have a place to hold a few simple items. Each family claimed a bag and set off to their make-shift tent home, neatly folding their clothes and placing them into their cases.

It was such a small thing, but a gesture of concern nonetheless. As we left, the angels of mercy student body were hard at work, on their cell phones planning for the coming days, arranging shifts schedules, media interviews, etc. We learned that the student were on call and even sleeping with the refugees in the park at night. Several times, they have had to take a couple of them to the doctor. Two ladies are pregnant, and alone as their spouses were left behind in Egypt.

I could not help but think of them as once again I climbed into a warm bed with a roof over my head. It was cold and damp tonight with too much wind for a July evening, heightening my concern for the welfare of Jerusalem's newest guests sleeping under the stars.

Plight of Refugees: Not in My City!

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Sat, 07 Jul 2007 20:10:00 +0000

We were all pretty horrified to hear that the refugees had been on a bus nearly all day. They were first bussed from Beersheva to Jerusalem. The hope was that their situation would help to bring public attention to the plight of the Sudanese refugees. Once arriving in Jerusalem, however, it was clear that they would have no where to stay.

So, a few hours later, they were bussed back to Beersheva! There there were met once again by the University students who took up their role as caretakers, giving hospitality Israeli style. I learned they did not get into a temporary camp until 11:00 pm that night.

Following their days events, I was relieved to finally learn they were settled down for the night, and I too, could rest. Tomorrow I will find the students and give them my help! Please help me to do this, my heart prayed with resolution once again as I drifted off to sleep.

Walking to the Promised Land

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Thu, 05 Jul 2007 14:32:00 +0000

Sometimes we can be saturated with a story until we are numb emotionally. I'm afraid that the tragedy of Darfur and southern Sudan may be causing a similar response - if we are not careful. Today, however, I was encouraged to hear of generous and compassionate hearts towards a people in great need. I learned that another 50 Sudanese refugees fled across the border of Israel from Egypt -- families, father's, mother's whose husbands were left behind, pregnant women, teens, children.

They had walked from southern Sudan, through Egypt, and across the wilderness making a run for the Israeli border.

The IDF patroling the border were under orders to transport the refugees to Beersheva Municipality.

But, because of Shabbat, the offices closed early. The refugees were left there. Help was on its way...

In recent weeks, University students in Beersheva have taken it upon themselves to personally care for the refugees brought there, often out of their own pockets. When the students heard there were another 50, they rushed to their aid. The refugees first of all needed to be treated for PTSD, and the doctors were called in to check their overall medical conditions.

Because Shabbat was coming, the students transported the families to the Ben Gurion University in the Negev and allowed them to sleep inside of a large Bedouin tent.

Hearing of their plight and with little food, no clothing or basic necessities of life was very difficult for me. I remember clearly pulling back my duvet cover as I climbed into bed that night and to God I whispered, "Thank you for a bed." I recounted the long list of "blessings" that are mine, not enjoyed by 50 people only two hours from my home in Jerusalem.

I cannot begin to imagine the horrors they have experienced. I only know that on this night, I have nothing to complain about. Nothing.

Please help me bring a bit of comfort to these who have come so far, was the prayer my heart uttered throughout my restless night. Shabbat had indeed descended, but shalom evaded my Spirit.

Thrown Away & Forgotten

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Mon, 18 Jun 2007 03:10:00 +0000

I'm talking about people. In our society we often prefer to stay within our "club," that circle of people we identify with of the same socio-economic class we belong. We find it difficult to reach beyond that circle, and if we do, it is in some benevolent way as an act of charity from our lofty position . . .those poor people need help.

Last night my husband and I went out to dinner engrossing ourselves in conversation, when we were interuppted by a scruffy, dirty man with a ragged kippa on his head shaking a styrofoam cup ringing with brass change at the bottom, the international sign for drop-in-some-spare-coins,-please. He was gone before we had a chance to respond, and disappeared into the restaurant crowd. We resumed our conversation. Shortly thereafter, he emerged again several tables from us. Now he had the attention of all of us in the restaurant as he took each discarded plate of food on the table left behind by the party who just left, dumping all the contents into a yellow nylon bag, adding the near-empty coke bottles too. My husband and I were transfixed on this, shocked at his desperation and considered where this little nylon bag of discarded food would be going later that evening. He was coming our way once again, and this time, we had money ready for him, purposely leaving behind full bottles of coke. We made sure to look him in the eyes, pat him on the shoulders, and he returned his thanks with words of God's blessings.

My son worked for the Municipality of Jerusalem for several years. His job was to go out and seek the poor and needy of Jerusalem. When my children where little, their Dad used to give them money and sometimes sandwiches to carry with them so they could give them to people on the streets who were hungry and begging for help. I think it created a natural response in them to look for those in need.

My son, born and raised here now married to an Israeli, has a real compassion for people who are down and out. He would start his job at night and work into the wee hours of the morning on his search for the poor, needy, alcoholics and drug addicts. Everyone in the center of town knows my son. My son has a reputation of one who protects those who cannot help themselves and often comes to their rescue when he is needed. He commands a respect among his peers, has a firm boldness with the unruly that prey on the weak, but is also known for his infectious friendliness. He is really a people person and is perfect for this kind of work. In his job on the streets, he has become acquainted with every abandoned building and dilapidated structure of this city. There he would find those who had reached their end with no place to go. Those he rescued ranged in ages from young teens and runaways to senior citizens, each with their own unique story as to why they lived on the streets.

(Picture: an article in the Israeli newspaper Yediot Ahranot about Michael's street work with the Jerusalem Municipality last winter.)

My son's delight was to be able to find them a warm bed for them the evening, a good cooked meal, and he worked tirelessly to aid their desperate situation with a more permanent solution to their present conditions. My son often would point out a bridge or a building to me saying, "A group of senior citizens lives in cardboard structures there." I have been amazed that Jerusalem was the only city in this nation that has instituted such a program to seek out their needy and forgotten and bring them the help they need.

There is a group of people among us that are what I call the "throw aways," the "forgotten," ones we do not see often times, and when we are confronted with them, we often avoid eye contact. At dinner last night, when my husband and I first sat down, the table was less than clean. I called over the man who was cleaning tables and he was nice enough to wipe it down. It was quickly evident to me that he had a mental disability and moved quite slow, but took his job seriously. I made sure to look him in the eye to show my appreciation for his work. He was so shocked at a kind gesture that he ran to get a clean rag and the table cleaner! Soon he was back to our table, and this time, did a more thorough job of cleaning. I was amazed that an act of simple kindness would initiate such a response from one who no doubt is not used to being noticed in a crowd of people.

In my neighborhood of south Jerusalem there is a home for older mentally disabled Israelis. They are a lonely group with few visitors. I have made friends with one of the residents. She loves me, and always has a huge toothless smile for me and a bear hug. My friend wears no bra, has ragged, wrinkled clothes, no teeth in the front and scraggily gray and dyed-black hair, her breathe reaks of stale cigarettes matched with a horrid smoker's cough, she walks with a forward drunken gait, and accosts every car that passes by her begging for money with a whiny voice. I love her. She's the friendliest person I know. I look for her on the streets . . . she makes my day and cheers me up. She has nothing, and is completely content with that.

In our society today, we are often conditioned to be repelled by those who are "dirty," those who are considered societies throwaways, preferring even not to associate with them lest we ourselves may become contaminated in some way, as they differ from our societal and spiritual sensibilities. Years ago I determined to go against the flow of the norm. My dinner guests are often those who fit the category of those who been thrown away and forgotten: prostitutes, drug addicts, alcoholics, societal runaways, misfits, those with mental and psychological problems, etc -- the forgotten. They come with tatoos and piercings, purple hair, chain smoke, their mouths are foul, but, at my house, they are extremely polite and respectful for some reason. My greatest satisfaction is putting out the best china I own, crystal glasses, silver and linen, and preparing for them a prime rib roast feast for them, just as I would do for any guest who comes to my home.

(photo: me preparing the feast for my guests!)

As a Christian living in this ancient city, I've often considered the popular phrase "What would Jesus do?" if He were still walking the streets I walk here in Jerusalem. I think we all know Yeshua would turn down the Erev Shabbat dinner invitation at the table laden with china, linen, Roast Chicken and Challah. He'd be having Shabbat dinner down in the city square alleyways and abandoned buildings, where the smell of urine and Vodka is overwhelming, preferring to get to know some of the foul-mouthed "dirty" people no one associates with.

"Those Who Wait..."

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Wed, 23 May 2007 17:40:00 +0000

At sundown, tents were already in place with young families who had come from around the country and set up camp on Mount Zion. They brought little with them, just enough for their week in Jerusalem. Crude hammocks were strung between the trees rocking the young children to sleep at naptime, while Abba and Ima prepared for a Shabbat rest for the biblical feast of Shavuot (Pentecost).

Meanwhile, orthodox families were arriving from around the city making their way to the Western Wall plaza to spend the night in the prayer and reading of the Book of Ruth . . . waiting, praying, singing, reading . . . At sunrise, the traditional Hebrew morning prayers were recited with passion, fervor, in unity.

I felt inspired to join my prayer and invocation for the presence of the Ruach Ha Kodesh (the Spirit of God) as tens of thousands cried out unto the God of Israel. . . May He answer your prayers swiftly with His Shekinah poured out upon all the House of Israel. Amen.

A Wedding Amidst Rockets

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Sun, 20 May 2007 03:59:00 +0000

"I love your Word, O Lord!" -- so says the Psalmist expressing his heart felt devotion to the words of the Torah given to the people of Israel by the God of Israel. The Torah is celebrated by the Jewish people in every community around the world. The scroll is even housed in a specially built cabinet laid to rest in a prominent place in the synagogue.

To dedicate a new Torah scroll in a community synagogue is another opportunity to celebrate in the streets. Through the years of living in Jerusalem, I have seen these boistrous celebrations in our own neighbhorhood, and they resemble a Jewish wedding reception. The synagogue committee sends out an invitation to the neighbhorhood inviting them to participate in the celebration, posting it at the local grocery stores. Then, a couple of hours prior to the ceremony, a small car with a loud speaker makes his way through the narrow streets announcing the time and place. The crowds gather. The residents - young and old - link arm in arm and begin their celebrative Israeli line dance up the street behind the car with the loud speaker as the preceed the newly devoted Torah scroll, leading the way to its new home in local the Synagogue.

A table of refreshments has been laid for the guests, and for the next 2 hours, the ear piercing music and dancing in the streets continues . . . inviting the neighbhors to celebrate their new Torah scroll. It is awesome to watch and to see a people so appreciate the words of God in such a manner.

I was particularly amazed last week, that, in the midst of the rockets falling on S'derot close to the border of northern Gaza, a "wedding" ceremony of the Torah dedication took place.

It was an "in your face" celebration by this battered community. After 1,000 S'derot citizens had evacuated earlier that day, a small contingent of remaining brave and faith-filled citizens, who themselves had been experiencing a barrage of 100 rockets within 3 days, paraded through their pockholed streets -- with their new Torah scroll! They danced, they kissed and hugged the Torah, they sang, they celebrated with great exuberance.

The community of S'derot under attack determined to celebrate their Torah "wedding" anyway, and sang loudly, danced wildly and declared to God, to the world, and to their attacking neighbhors in this act: "I love Your Word, O Lord!"

As they were leaving the synagogue around 11:00 pm, Hamas responded intentionally by sending another volley of rockets, hitting the synagogue directly. A few were injured and treated for shock.

At the writing of this, there is no let up of the attacks on S'derot. But, the newly placed Torah scroll reminds the worshipers of this declaration of God through the ancient Pslamist who also encountered enemy attacks:

“But You, O LORD, shall laugh at them; You shall have all the nations in derision. I will wait for You, O You my Strength; for God is my defense. My God of mercy shall come to meet me; God shall let me see my desire on my enemies” (Psalm 59:8–10).

Ode to Jerusalem

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Fri, 18 May 2007 10:55:00 +0000

Having traveled to many beautiful cities of the world, I have to say that there is none that equals Jerusalem. The limestone of each building creates a hue as the sun reflects from its ancient stones. The hills and wadi's leading to each neighbhorhood are picturesque and hold their own uniqueness. Everytime I climb the hills and make my way up to Jerusalem, songs erupt within me as I view the landscape, anticipating the next turn that leads to my home.

But the people of every city creates the atmosphere, and this is certainly true of Jerusalem. I love to be wherever the people are, and I actually enjoy the crush of people, shopping in the open market, going to the mall just hours before a major Jewish holiday begins with the hustle and bustle of preparations.

Jerusalem Day afforded an opportunity to view the kaliedescope that is the City of Jerusalem. Tens of thousands of Israeli citizens from all over the country and tourists from many nations converged within the city center, parading in their units and specialty groups. But the most anticipated portion of the parade are the youth of this nation raising high the flag of Israel, the standard of King David.

The crowds of Jerusalemites and visitors then make their way through the Old City Gates, dancing and singing, a boistrous celebration as they make their way to the very heart of every Jew, the Western Wall.

I love the songs of Zion. For me they are reminders of the God of Israel who declared to King Solomon long ago after he built the Temple, "I have chosen and consecrated this temple so that my Name may be there forever. My eyes and my heart will always be there."

This is my ode to Jerusalem, the City of our God...and to all of her inhabitants that love her.

A Jerusalem Treasure Hunt

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Thu, 10 May 2007 11:44:00 +0000

We headed out on our morning walk. High school students were flying by us, backpacks flapping, sandals pounding the asphalt . . . seemingly in a race with one another. We carried on with our pace . . . another 3 students seem to come out of no where. We turned the corner on our normal route and 5 students ran up to us inquiring, "Do you live in this neighbhorhood? . . . Can you tell us where an ancient mosaic floor is laying on display?"

We knew exactly what they were looking for having passed by this spot a number of occasions. This mosaic floor lay where the ancient aquaduct ran to the Temple Mount from the hill in our neighbhood, a peak in the south part of the city.

"Sure! Go along the Promenade road and turn right at the light . . . follow the park . . ." We found out these students had come up to Jerusalem from their homes in northern Israel just prior to the Jerusalem Day celebrations. Their teachers had planned for them to view the archeological sites in a fun way . . . they were given a laminated chart of sites throughout the neighbhorhood to locate. The first team to finish wins the big prize.

We sent this team on and up came another, then another, and another . . . For the next 45 minutes, we became the neighborhood tour guides, directing teams of students - and parents! - on a Jerusalem archeological treasure hunt.

Rounding the corner we arrived at the promenade plaza greeting a friend from Tel Aviv, an Israeli tour guide with a small group of American tourists. All the while the high school students from the north of the country were running all over the promenade in search of the next ancient site on their map. Two very husky buff and stern-looking border police stood guard with their guns positioned . . . many buses unloaded their tourists who were grouped in units around the national park. Units of IDF soldiers come to this panoramic viewpoint on a regular basis and are taught by Israeli tour guides the history of the battles fought on the mountains all around Jerusalem. I have often thought as I see them that hearing the history from this vantage point would inspire a fresh motivation to guard the citizens of Israel.

"Hey Ron!" called the muscular border policeman. My husband heard someone calling his name. It was our neighbhor in the special police forces who was assigned the job of protecting the citizens at this site . . . a very pleasant and welcome change from his normal watch duty on the frontlines. We chatted with he and his partner for a time . . . occasionally pausing to congratulate the high school students running by at their treasure hunt successes! They were nearer to the finish.

Returning home via our normal circuitous route, my husband and I talked about how fun it would be to discover Jerusalem's hidden treasures as the high school students were doing - on such a treasure hunt, much of which is still hidden in the earth waiting to be unearthed and discovered. But the real treasures are the people within its walls . . . Jerusalem's living treasures.

UNICEF, Gaza children & Mickey Mouse Lookalike

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Tue, 08 May 2007 19:11:00 +0000

You only have to read the UNICEF Mission Statement to know that clearly, they are a complete failure in their mission to the children of Gaza. I know you saw the Mickey Mouse lookalike on Gaza children's TV network in recent weeks. Just when we thought the world had shamed the leadership sufficiently to pull the program, Hamas put their star back on TV. "Farfur" the Hamas Mickey Mouse encourages Gaza children with songs of jihad martyrdom, each verse spewing Islamic intentions towards their Jewish neighbhors.

Here's my concern: Hamas demonstrates a clear hatred of the children they have birthed, as well as the women in their communities. This so-called democratically elected governmental body in Gaza and the West Bank should be caring for their millions of poor households and strengthening communities with thriving families through education and charity. Instead they pour their energies into "metal foundaries" (that's what news media calls their bomb making factories), build expansive tunnels for gun running from Egypt to Gaza, run programs of recruitment for suicide bombers, and training camps for their "fighters." They sponsor jihadi "summer camps" for the children, teaching them how to take up arms against their Jewish neighbhors.

Having raised 3 children into adulthood in this city, I am horrified at the mothering instincts I see demonstrated in my neighbhors in Gaza. They willingly send their children to these Hamas-sponsored summer camps which only fuel the hatred in their children. The photos tell the real story.

Save the Children, Stop the Recruiters
I want to know what the international children protection organizations like UN ICEF or SAVE THE CHILDREN are really doing these days. Are they just busy with the job of fund raising programs? Have they taken notice that Islamic groups are recruiting children for their suicide missions? Where is the world-wide outcry against the education of Islamic children that advocates hate against Jews, Israel, Christians and the West? Why are these same children's organizations not coming into "refugee" camps and protesting against groups like Islamic Jihad that target 10-year olds, encouraging them to grow up and strap belts of explosives to their waists so that they can kill Jewish children?

ISLAMIC CRIMES AGAINST HUMANITY
Islamic clerics and community leaders and terror recruiters of children should be brought to justice by international courts. These recruited and indoctrinated children have been convinced in their hearts and minds that what they are doing is good and righteous, and that they are pleasing their god Allah. Some political leaders and Islamic clerics have tried to convince the international public through the media that these terrorists are not Islamic! The fact is, these children grew up in Islamic homes, heard the anti-Israeli, anti-Jewish rhetoric by Islamic religious clerics from the pulpit of their local Mosque every Friday, read the Koran and Hadith and believed its teachings, while their terror group leaders promised them all the Islamic rewards of eternity - if they would just blow themselves up and kill some Israeli's in the process.

Yasser Arafat was one of those recruiters. He used his political weight to convince his people . . . I heard his speeches while my children were yet young. He once pleaded with Palestinian Mothers in a public speech over a decade ago, "Give me your children for the Palestinian cause..." They did. They dedicated their toddlers, sent them to terror summer camps in Gaza, and faithfully taught them how to give themselves to the "Palestinian cause."

There is even a Palestinian girls summer camp. Does anyone wonder why we now have girl suicide bombers? As a mother of three children and a grandmother of two, I am outraged at these actions.

CHILDREN BELIEVE THE ADULTS IN THEIR LIFE
Children have a deep loyalty to the roots of their family, community and faith. They see their older brothers and uncles in fatigues with masks and guns, reading, quoting and carrying their Koran, and want to grow up to be just like Uncle Mahmoud. These same children participate in public rallies on a regular basis, raising their voices, their fists, throwing rocks upon command. Below is a video in Gaza where the indoctrinated children dress up and put on a typical Hamas rally . . . see for yourself:

You can't tell me that these children did not believe in Allah or have a deep sense that they were pleasing him according to all they had been taught since childhood. They have a need to please their families and to prove their loyalties to Allah. Disillusioned or shamed girls are easy prey by these terror leaders to send them out on suicide missions. And therein is the Islamic crimes against humanity. Don't attach "extremism" to the word Islamic, as if to categorize them separately, thereby making it more palatable, because in light of the actions of recent years, no one believes it. None of these children that have blown themselves up and killed others were extreme. They were just children. One of these children recruited and sent to kill Israeli's in recent years was a mentally retarded teen. Thankfully, he was caught in time by astute Israeli border guards. Israeli Jews saved his life, I might add. Islamic clerics, UNICEF, SAVE THE CHILDREN, or even his mother were no where around to save his life. Now that's a crime . . . and my concern.

Save the children. . . please.

The Rabbi's Son Loves God

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Sat, 05 May 2007 14:26:00 +0000

The first time I saw him he was about 3 years old, a typically active child. I noticed the differences in him as the years have gone by. He always had a wide grin for the next person that crossed his path. Sometimes he would stand on the curb outside of his apartment building and greet the passersby with a friendly "shalom!" He is the next to the last in a very large family of the neighbhorhood Rabbi who leads the Ashkenazi synagogue, their apartment facing our back balcony directly across the parking lot. We often were quiet observers of their Jewish holiday celebrations that included their extended family, synagogue members and visitors. Many evenings were spent studying Torah around their dining room table, the ancient Jewish prayers filling the air, often late into the night.

One day, something changed. There was much activity at the home of the Rabbi's family. I quickly learned that the Rabbi's married older daughter had died of cancer, leaving behind a grieving husband and children. For a week, the family sat shiva with hundreds of comforters filing in and out of the small Jerusalem apartment. I remember observing the younger children - including the Rabbi's younger son - and the confusion on their faces, sad, with a grief they could not comprehend.

Through the years, we have watched the children grow, celebrate their bar and bat Mitzvah's, get married, have their own children - the cycles of life.

The Rabbi's son too participates in the cycle of Jewish life, but I've noticed with a difference: He celebrates life with exuberance. I remember when he celebrated his Bar Mitzvah year several birthdays ago, and proudly wore his black coat, black pants, white shirt and black hat - just like his Father. Now he walked to synagogue with his Father for prayers, a new prayer shawl hanging over his shoulders.

Just this morning I heard his loud and boistrous singing unto the God of Israel. Sometimes he goes to his balcony, faces East to where the Temple Mount once stood, and sings his prayers - with all his heart, mind, soul and strength - his face uplifted, eyes closed, davening with great joy. I can hear every word he cries unto his God.

I love that. Clearly, he is lost in the love of his God and is unaffected by whether or not he sounds too loud and might "disturb" his neighbhors. I know he does not even consider that his voice carries beyond the edges of his worn prayer book. He recites the ancient prayers of King David, and reminds his heart of God's promises according to His Word, a great inspiration to me personally.

You see, the Rabbi's son is considered by the medical experts as "mentally slow." I know God is so pleased with his pure heart and sincere love for Him.

Please God . . . help me love You today as much as the Rabbi's son. Amen.

1948 - The Birth of A Nation: Happy Birthday Israel!

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Tue, 24 Apr 2007 15:15:00 +0000

Yom Ha'Atzmaut - Israel's Independence Day - comes immediately after a 24-hour period for Memorial Day. Israel's know how to mourn the loss of those they have lost in terror attacks and wars, and they also know how to celebrate with exuberance. This day is an Israeli favorite, the highly anticipated celebration. The evening begins with a transitional service from the Memorial Day and then a ceremony that initiates a nation-wide birthday party. Every artery leading into the main cities are packed with crowds of celebrants.

Israeli's are known for their joyous dancing. Perhaps you've participated in a Jewish wedding dance called "the hora." Imagine hundreds of circles of dancers doing the hora until dawn in the middle of the streets! There are band stands all over the cities of various types of music, including Israeli folk singing and dancing.

My husband Ron documented this celebration and made a film highlighting the specific areas where the war raged in and around Jerusalem. Follow him as he takes you to several historical sites in Jerusalem where the battles raged in 1948. After the Holocaust, the persecuted and displaced Jews finally had a homeland.

You will see modern Israeli families celebrating the 59th birthday of their young nation. Happy birthday Israel!

Those Who Mourn in Zion

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Mon, 23 Apr 2007 13:14:00 +0000

The last two weeks in Israel have been a time of national mixed emotions. I continue to learn from the Jewish nation as I live among them year after year. One thing I am struck with is how they allow themselves to greive and mourn the loss of loved ones. There is a proper process for those who have died, and a process afforded also to the survivors.

Living in a region which suffers often with the shock of terrorist attacks against its citizens, I have observed the resilent Israeli public be able to mourn as a nation with those who have lost loved ones. Sometimes, they have buried their dead in the morning and prepared for a national celebration that began that evening.

Today, Israel mourned the loss of thousands of their citizens that lost their lives in wars and terror attacks. For the families who lost sons and daughters from the summer war in Lebanon last year, it was particularly painful.

Many came to Jerusalem to Mount Herzl for the ceremonies. Families left wreaths and flower bouquets on memorial stones around the city.

My husband prepared this film to commemorate the national Memorial Day called "Yom HaZicharon" as I sing two songs in the background. I breathe a prayer for my Jerusalem neighbors this day and join with the ancient Prophet Isaiah who said, "To grant those who mourn in Zion, Giving them a garland instead of ashes, The oil of gladness instead of mourning, The mantle of praise instead of a spirit of fainting." Amen.

The People of Israel Live...

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Mon, 16 Apr 2007 17:59:00 +0000

I continue to be inspired by the ability of the Jewish people to rise above every difficulty they face. Living in the midst of such tenacious people has taught me much. Clearly, we had an example just this week at the Virginia University tragedy when the Holcaust survivor and Israeli-Jewish Professor Liviu Lebrescu, we are amazed at his heroic act to save his students by blocking the murderer with his body.

Having visited Nazi death camps in Europe, I have seen firsthand Hitler's personal attempt to massacre a people he hated. Knowing many Holocaust survivors, I have come to thank God that these precious ones survived as I considered their contributions to our modern society.

My prayer is that Europe will also echo Israel's resolve "Never Again!" by implementing international laws that strictly enforce a policy against anti-Semitism of any kind, in any form.

Here is a film we made this week that is an on-site filming of Auschwitz death camp with Israelis and Christians, and the memorial service at Yad Vashem Holocaust Memorial in Jerusalem, Israel 2006-2007. It is a moving tribute to remember the 6 million Jews who perished in the Holocaust as well as the Holocaust survivors who continue to suffer as they relive the horrors of the Nazi era.

Never Again...

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Sun, 15 Apr 2007 17:38:00 +0000

As I write this, we have just entered a 24-hour period of Holocaust Memorial Day. My husband is presently at the Memorial Ceremony at Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Memorial Museum in Jerusalem, and I will join him tomorrow to walk the grounds and remember those who died. Most of the cable channels are dedicated to film documentaries of those who suffered terrible attrocities at the hands of inhumane haters of the Jewish people. All places of recreation will be closed during this day of "remembering."

This morning, I took my exercise walk and passed through a beautiful, pastoral hill where a small forest of trees is growing. Green grasses and flowering plants and weeds fill the hills all around Jerusalem because of the plentiful rains in recent months. Coming around a bend I noticed an unexpected sight, a bomb squad with 4 Jerusalem Policeman searching the hills, urgently calling for Arab children not to pass by. It was such a shock to see them in this beautiful location where we all felt safe from terror attempts. The heavily armored vehicle was parked, back door open, ready, prepared for what they would find as they carefully picked through the hills of green.

Still the enemies of the Jews attempt to kill them in whatever way is possible, 1, 2, 10 at a time...

As I look into the eyes of my neighbors, I have heard many of their personal family stories that brought them or their fathers and mothers to this Land. Dorit's father survived Auschwitz and came to Israel where he lived on a Kibbutz. At brunch one day at her house, she brought out a prized possession: a crude homemade poster of her geneology with photos of those who had survived the ovens and had been born in Eretz Yisrael. I know her children, and now she and her husband Moti are grandparents. Both Dorit and Moti are successful in business here in Israel.

When I heard their story, viewed the photos after Auschwitz, recalling her children and grandchildren, tears welled up and I said to her, "Hitler was not successful. He did not win."

My husband and I have a mandate deep in our hearts that motivates us with a renewed determination as we join the Jewish people around the globe, and say with them in Hebrew, "Lo od! (Never again)."

Resurrection Day in Jerusalem

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Sun, 08 Apr 2007 17:41:00 +0000

Around noon, we headed over to Ein Kerem and decided to take a tour of the churches. This sleepy community was alive with tourists from all over the world doing the very same thing. We were surrounded by conversations in various languages: Hebrew, English, Russian, Italian, Spanish, French, German, Dutch. There were Roman Catholics, Greek Orthodox, Russian Orthodox, Armenian Orthodox, Jews, Evangelicals...

The church bells pealed nearly continuously while we were there in celebration of this glorious day. The sun was brilliant and occasionally slipped behind puffy clouds. We decided to ascend the hill to the very top of Ein Kerem and view the grounds of the Church of the Ascension. For me it was quite a hike; but, because I've been walking on a regular basis, I managed without being too breathless. What surprised me as we made the steep ascent was the fact that we were surrounded also by Israeli's. We all - with our varied backgrounds - wandered the historical sites together, Israeli's reading to their children the posted plaques in Hebrew, Italians reading the history of the site in their own tongue, Ron and I discovering the antiquities.

Below is a clip we filmed of our day visiting the various historical churches on Resurrection Day. Just another day in Jerusalem, a city that enjoys the freedom of worship for all peoples without prejudice. I am blessed to live here.

Seven Days of Passover

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Wed, 04 Apr 2007 16:54:00 +0000

During the week-long holiday of Passover, Israeli's take the opportunity to visit their country taking their children to various parks, hikes, the zoo, etc. Since Passover is a pilgrimage feast, Jerusalem is always one of the places Israeli's try to visit during the seven days.

While in Jerusalem, the Sherover Promenade in our neighbhorhood of Talpiot Arnona is a popular gathering point and is usually filled with booths, entertainers, food stalls, rides to entertain thousands of celebrants. In addition to this, Christian tourists come by the bus loads because of the lovely panoramic view of the Old city of Jerusalem.

As a resident of this community, my husband and I often take our exercise walk to this scenic walking promenade and are joined by many of our neighbors as well. On this particular day, we were pleasantly surprised to enjoy the sights and sounds of Passover vacation with Israeli visitors from all over the country. Below is a short clip of drummers leading the children in the songs of Zion.

Passover Meal

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Mon, 02 Apr 2007 11:38:00 +0000

On Monday night, we all sat down to observe the beginning of Passover week, recalling God's deliverance of His people from the slavery of Egypt.

The holiday began at sundown. Our family followed a Hebrew/English Hagaddah reading sections of the Bible that tells the story of the Israelites first Passover meal.

During the evening, several courses of a feast are served. I had decided to serve a roasted lamb dinner for the main course. (Click photo below to go to my online cookbook for April "recipes of the month" page.)

Depending on the family, the Passover seder can go well into the early hours of the morning with songs of celebration. Ours was very relaxed and we thoroughly enjoyed the evening, the meal and the celebration. Hag Sameach to the house of Israel!

Happy Birthday to Me!

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Mon, 26 Mar 2007 13:40:00 +0000

I've celebrated 19 birthdays in this city. That's hard to believe. It occured to me that I have lived here in each decade of my life since age 27. Here I am now in my 50s and I am reflecting on the various stages of my life here in this city. I first came here with 1 child, and now I have 3 children, married, with 2 grandsons, each one a blessing from God.

Likewise, I have watched the changes of this city - my neighbhorhood - transform since we first came here in 1980. The growth of this city has caused new housing tracks all over, bursting at the seams it seems.

Today we celebrated my birthday with a lunch just on the outskirts of Jerusalem in an Arab village called Abu Ghosh. Israeli's love to come here because they are welcomed as customers, especially on the weekend when they go out with their families. This restaurant is called Lebanese Restaurant, which boasts the famed "best humous" in Israel award! Their speciality is the stuffed chicken with rice, raisins, and pine nuts. Abu Ghosh stands as an example of a community that is blessed by God because of their choice not to join in the a conflict with their Jewish neighbors. Instead, they have chosen to act neighborly. As a result, their economic exchange with Israel has caused their village to be quite wealthy. Those who own businesses are friendly, courteous and hospitable towards their Jewish neighbors.

I always enjoy going to Abu Ghosh to have lunch because of the friendly atomosphere and delicious foods. Today we selected a Kubbeh, homemade pickles, humous, salads, kabobs, lamb, and barbeque chicken. We were surprised at the end of the meal when the waiters brought in a plate of baklava, sweet Turkish coffee and sparklers! They heard us talking about my birthday! Happy birthday to me!

Ancient Temple Aquaduct

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Fri, 23 Mar 2007 15:13:00 +0000

One day on our exercise walk, we came across the ancient aquaduct used to direct the flow of water to the ancient Temple inside the walls the Old City of Jerusalem.

The ceramic-made tunnel was still quite evident and you could follow the tunnel passage from the highest point of city close to the Arab villages, along the apple orchards of Kibbutz Ramat Rahel and then winding down to the place where we stood.

We stood atop a high point of the south hills that stand around Jerusalem at the Haas Promenade. When my husband and I first moved to this neighborhood of Talpiot Arnona in 1981, we used to come to this hill top just to take photos. In one sweeping glance at the Haas Promenade, you are able to see Jerusalem - the Old City walls, the New City buildings, and the ancient villages -all blended into one panoramic view of the city.

Below are two photos my husband took at different angles and time of day.

Atop this hill buried in deep in the earth lies historical secrets of ancient Jewish residents that archeologists are working hard today to uncover. The amazing architechtural feat of the Jewish Temple Aquaduct is only one such treasure we are amazed to consider as we kick up the dirt with our exercise sandles in this modern era.

The War Drill

noreply@blogger.com (Carol Cantrell) — Tue, 20 Mar 2007 07:04:00 +0000

We had an air raid siren drill today. Actually it was an all chemical and biological war drill throughout the country.

All the emergency agencies staged a mock drill.

The State warned us ahead of time when the sirens would be sounding, but it was still nerve shattering. Our apartment is situated fairly close to the siren so whenever it sounds, you have to respond.

I remember the first time we ever heard the siren in our neighbhorhood...in 1980. My oldest daughter was only 3 at that time and her and her Dad were coming home from the store. As it happened, they were walking directly under the siren when it suddenly sounded. My daughter Heather was in such shock at the piercing sound that she burst out screaming, mouth opened as wide as possible, tears jerking out of her eyes, only no sound could be heard. Poor baby...From then on, I took careful note of when the siren was going to sound (a few times a year) and would take my young children into an inner room, explain what was about to happen, cover them in thick blankets and hold them close as we awaited the 2 minute siren. Even so, they would all burst out crying loudly, looking at me with pleading eyes, no sound could be heard except the siren.

Unfortunately, Israel has an enemy in this neighbhorhood who has publically boasted of its intentions to "wipe Israel off the map." The State of Israel takes all credible threats seriously and seeks to protect its citizens. Today was a drill in the event that this enemy should try to make good on the threat someday in the future. We captured this drill today...My trust is in the God of Israel who "never sleeps nor slumbers." May He who makes peace in the heavens, bring us His shalom. Amen.