aren't we easter people?

I've been really troubled the past couple of days.

David & I were heading to bed on Sunday night when we caught the breaking announcement of Bin Laden's death on TV.

I'll admit that I immediately felt relief.

I ache for the victims of 9/11. I ache for their families.

I ache for the lives lost in Iraq and Afghanistan since the "War on Terror" was waged nearly a decade ago.

I ache for the family members of the special ops team who was sent in on Sunday night.

But then the relief faded.

Because the news coverage began showing people all over the country celebrating the announcement. People wrapping themselves in the flag. People shouting "USA!" People cracking open beers.

And my heart began to ache.

Yes, I am an American.

I ache for the victims of 9/11.

I ache for the soldiers. For their families.

Yes, I am an American.

But I am first, and foremost, a Christian.

And, if I confess to being a Christian, if I proclaim to follow Christ, if I truly desire to follow the path of peace, then I cannot cannot rejoice in this death.

Was it necessary? Maybe.

Are we safer? Maybe.

Will it bring closure? Maybe.

But maybe not.

And I refuse to rejoice in death.

I find it interesting that the news of Bin Laden's death came one week after Christians celebrated Easter.

One week since we sang "Hallelujah!"

One week since we announced the resurrected Christ.

One week since we confessed our belief that God's power is stronger than death. That love is greater than hate. That death does not have the last word. That darkness can be overcome. That the tomb is empty.

And yet, as I watched people dancing in the streets, I wondered if we have forgotten. It's been seven days and we seem to have forgotten.

Aren't we Easter people?

Is the message of Easter morning still relevant seven days later? Or must we wait another year to act as if Easter matters?

Obviously, I cannot know if the Americans dancing in the streets are Christians or not. But, to those who are, I want to say, aren't we Easter people? Aren't we called to live as Easter people every day? Even in the middle of a world that feels like a perpetual Good Friday?

Yes, my heart aches for the victims of 9/11.

It aches for the soldiers and their families.

But it also aches for the hundreds of thousands of Iraqis and Afghanis that have died in the "War on Terror."

It aches for the woman who was used as a human shield at Bin Laden's compound.

It aches for the mother of Bin Laden's son, who woke up on Monday morning without a child. No mother, anywhere, ever, should know the pain of losing a child.

And, my heart beats too fast as I type this..

my heart aches for Bin Laden.

Because I look at my baby son and think that, a long time ago, Bin Laden was a baby son too. And somewhere along the way, his heart became so hardened and full of hate that he became a rejoicer in death.

You may despise me for aching for him. He did terrible, terrible things.

But, if I cannot see his humanity, if I become a rejoicer in death too, then my heart is no different than his.

Bin Laden was not a Christian.

But I am.

And I pray, pray, pray that God will give me the courage, will give us the courage to live as Easter people.

Every day.

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." ~Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

"Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you." ~Jesus

blessed are the troublemakers

Dear Milo,

I took this picture of you the other day.

You look adorable. But I started to think. If peace signs are "cool," cool enough to put on baby onesies & baby hats, then I'm not sure we're teaching you the right things. Because, Milo, being a peacemaker is so much more than wearing a peace sign.

A few weeks ago I went to church without you & the sermon was about the Beatitudes. You're too little right now, but some day Mama will teach you about the Beatitudes. Because they might be one of my favorite parts of the Bible.

The sermon was good, but something that was said during the children's moment has really bothered me. I'm not trying to pick on the person who did the children's moment. After all, talking about things in the Bible in a way that kids can understand them is really, really hard to do.

The thing that bothered me is that, when explaining the beatitude "blessed are the peacemakers," the kids were told that this means God likes it when we don't cause trouble.

And it got me thinking.

I started thinking about peacemakers. The ones I've read about & the ones I know personally. And, Milo, I think almost every single peacemaker who came to mind has been arrested. Maybe not all of them, but most of them. Not because they are bad people, but because they were, indeed, causing trouble.

You see, Milo, there are lots & lots of things in our world that aren't right. There are lots of things that are unfair. And sometimes, in order to make things fair, in order to make things right, you have to cause a little trouble. And the reason the Beatitudes are so ridiculous is because Jesus is saying the very opposite of what the storyteller during the children's moment was saying. Jesus says "blessed are the peacemakers," but he really means, "blessed are the people who get in trouble trying to make things fair."

Before you were born, Mama & two of her friends went to the Sea of Galilee & climbed up Mt. Beatitude. Here is Mama on Mt. Beatitude:

It was really special to be at the Sea of Galilee & to be in the place where Jesus said, "blessed are the peacemakers." But, Milo, being there was scary. We went there to be with people who get in lots & lots of trouble because they are trying to make things more fair. We even got into some trouble ourselves. It is hard, hard work to be a peacemaker, Milo.

In a few weeks, you will be baptized. Mama & Daddy will stand up with you at the front of the church & present you for baptism. Your grandparents will be there, too. And then the pastor will baptize you with water that Mama collected from the Sea of Galilee.

I still remember taking off my shoes & socks, wading out into the chilly water, leaning over & collecting water from the Sea in an empty water bottle. I didn't have you yet, but I was hoping for you.

And I still hope for you, Milo. I hope that, on the day of your baptism, you will know that you are loved. I hope you will grow up confident in your identity as a child of God. And, I hope you will always remember the water that baptized you. The water that holds the whispers of a promise...

Blessed are the troublemakers, for they shall be called the children of God...

Love,

Mama

Dignity, Not Detention

Monday night our JustFaith group at Trinity was part of the monthly vigil outside the immigrant detention center in Aurora. The American Friends Service Committee recently launched a national campaign called, "Dignity, Not Detention: Preserving Human Rights and Restoring Justice."

Over 300,000 immigrants are detained each year in a secretive web of 350 private, federal, state and local jails at an annual cost of more than $1.7 billion to taxpayers. In Aurora, driving without a license can land an immigrant in detention. Immigrants can be detained for months, or even years, without any meaningful judicial review or access to a lawyer. While detained, immigrants face mistreatment by guards, denial of medical care, and separation from family members and loved ones.

The campaign calls for an end to detention expansion and seeks to expose how profit-driven expansion of the detention system is inhumane and unjust. The campaign has 4 main goals: reduce detention spending by the Obama administration, demand the use of secure release options as a meaningful alternative to detention, restore due process to immigrant laws, and end expansion of enforcement programs (i.e. ICE access) that are contributing to the growth of the detention system.

Monday night we gathered on the corner of 30th and Peoria to hold signs and light candles. We affirmed our belief that the immigration system is horribly broken and that, as people of faith, we are called to seek justice for all God's people. After a brief period on the corner, we then walked along the sidewalk to the detention center that is tucked back away from the street. We stood outside the center's windows and we alternated singing with chanting. We chanted, "Dignity, not detention" and we sang "We Shall Overcome" in both Spanish and English.

There were enough of us present that eventually detainees started coming to the windows to look out at us. They waved to us. We waved back. We were separated by glass and bars and razor fences. We sang louder.

One of the men in our group walked up and down the sidewalk slowly so that the immigrants could read his sign. In English it said, "You are not forgotten" and in Spanish it said, "I'm thinking only of you."

It was horrible and wonderful all at the same time. And it was humbling. I've been spending so much time lately thinking about jogging strollers and car seats and this baby...I couldn't help but wonder how many of them had babies at home who were missing their mamas and daddies. It makes my heart sad.

To read more about the campaign or to sign the "Dignity, not detention" statement, click here.

The cover of this month's Sojourners. "Citizen or criminal?"

Speak Your Mind, Even If Your Voice Shakes

Last night I got an email from Rev. Daniel Klawitter, the organizer I worked with last summer when I worked for the labor union. Some of you may know that grocery workers at Safeway and King Soopers have been trying to negotiate a contract with corporate CEOs for months and the longer negotiations go on, the more corporate tries to cheat them out of fair wages and benefits. 

The email I received from Daniel asked me to call corporate headquarters this morning and tell them I support the grocery workers. I didn't want to. I was nervous. I knew my voice would shake. But then I remembered a bumper sticker I saw this past weekend that said, "Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes."

So I decided to call. My voice DID shake, but I told the woman on the phone who I was, that my husband and I shopped at the Safeway on Federal Blvd, and that the workers recognize us when we come in. I told her how much we spend each week at Safeway and that we are prepared to shop somewhere else if negotiations are not fair to the workers. 

I have no idea if it will make any difference, but I am hoping so. Not only because I care about the workers who work there, but because refusing to shop at the grocery store that is one block from my house will be inconvenient. I can't think of one of the top of my head, but I'm sure that somewhere in the gospels Jesus said, "Beware! Discipleship will be extremely inconvenient!" 

If you also shop at Safeway or King Soopers and would like to make a call, here are the numbers:

Safeway (925) 467-3000

King Soopers (513) 762-4000

Here is a SHORT video of Daniel talking about why he is supporting grocery workers:

Justice and Joy

This weekend I went with Greta to Estes Park, Colorado for Reconciling Ministries Network Convocation. Reconciling Ministries Network (RMN) is a growing movement within the United Methodist Church that is working toward the full participation of all people in the Methodist Church, specifically, RMN seeks the full inclusion of gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and queer persons in the Church. 

At Convocation we celebrated 25 years of work that RMN has done in order to create safe sanctuaries for GLBTQ (gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and queer) persons. RMN has ardently campaigned for the removal of the "incompatibility clause" from the UM Book of Discipline that states "homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching." They work to support same-sex marriage. They believe the day will come when United Methodists who are called to ordained ministry will not have to choose between lying about who they are in order to be ordained or, the equally painful alternative, being honest about who they are and being denied ordination. 

The theme of the weekend was "Justice and Joy." We had the privilege of participating in dynamic worship where the message of God's radical and inclusive love was clear. We took communion, served communion, were anointed, anointed others, sang amazing songs and heard amazing preachers. 

One of my favorite songs, "For Everyone Born," goes like this:

For everyone born

A place at the table, 

for everyone born,

clean water and bread;

a shelter, a space, a safe place for growing,

for everyone born, 

a star overhead. 

And God will delight 

when we are creators of 

justice and joy,

compassion and peace:

yes, God will delight

when we are creators of justice;

justice and joy. 

For woman and man, 

a place at the table,

revising the roles,

deciding the share;

with wisdom and grace

dividing the power,

for woman and man, 

a system that's fair.

For young and for old, 

a place at the table,

a voice to be heard,

a part in the song,

the hands of a child

in hands that are wrinkled,

for young and for old,

the right to belong.

For gay and for straight,

a place at the table,

transgender and queer, 

in one single tree,

engaging each gift

and blessing each covenant,

for gay and for straight,

a new way to be.

For everyone born, 

a place at the table,

to live without fear,

and simply to be,

to work, to speak out

to witness and worship,

for everyone born, 

the right to be free. 

And God will delight

when we are creators 

of justice and joy,

compassion and peace; 

yes, God will delight 

when we are creators of justice, 

justice and joy. 

RMN is launching a new campaign called "Believe Out Loud." Based on a recent survey of United Methodist clergy, 67% said they believe GLBTQ persons should be fully included in the body and polity of the church, however, only 7% had ever stated this belief explicitly. The idea behind "Believe Out Loud" is that United Methodists who consider themselves inclusive need to get serious about sharing this belief with others. In order to "get serious," we must start telling our stories. Telling stories changes lives. 

My story goes something like this: I am an ally for GLBTQ persons. I am constantly learning what it means to be a "good" ally. It requires the ability to listen, think openly, and the courage to expose myself to potential ridicule. 

I am an ally because I love many, many people who have been excluded and hurt by the church. They are my dear, dear friends. They are brilliant, kind, funny, and wonderful people. They have comforted me in times of deep pain. They have helped me to have courage in times when I felt afraid. 

And I have witnessed the pain they bear at the hands of the Church. I have felt with them, to some degree, what it feels like to be deemed "incompatible" and outside the love of Christ. I have absorbed the tears they cry as they discern how to be faithful to their call to ministry and simultaneously maintain some sense of integrity. I have witnessed their courage in the ways they speak prophetically to the Church saying, "We love you, but you are NOT being the Church!"  

And I am an ally because someday I will have children of my own. I do not know if they will grow up to be gay or straight, but I know that I want them to be part of a better Church. I believe that the United Methodist Church will be a better Church someday. Throughout history, the Church has gotten many things wrong: they were wrong about slavery, wrong about women, and I believe they are wrong about this. Martin Luther King Jr said that "Injustice is unsustainable" and I believe the United Methodist Church cannot forever exclude persons from the love of Christ and participation in the Body. Years from now I want my children to look at me and say that I was on the right side of history. 

 

Called by God, Ordained by the Church

Last week I took United Methodist Polity and it was impossible not to face my lack of progress in the candidacy process. I am MORE than 2/3 done with my seminary education, I will graduate in June, and I cannot get certified. I didn't seek out certification until November of 2007, even though many of my friends started seminary as certified candidates. However, I never anticipated that, 21 months later, I still wouldn't be certified. 

The reasons for this are many--some of them are my fault and some of them are not. (Although, when I cried to my pastor at Trinity yesterday his first words to me were "This is unacceptable." Not the fact that I was crying, but the fact that I've had so much trouble getting people in my conference to pay any attention to me, respond to emails, phone calls, etc) 

I am feeling frustrated. I cry when I think about it. I feel anxious about graduating from seminary and having no job. The lack of progress makes me question my call; I can't help but think that maybe I'm not really called. The Church doesn't really want me. 

BUT, when I said these things to Greta, she told me, "Tiffany, there is a difference between being ordained by the Church and being called by God." And, after being in Israel/Palestine, I have to tell myself that she's right. Regardless of whether or not I can get ordained in my home conference, I know that I am called by God to serve in ministry, whether I am ordained by the Church or not. 

I also take comfort in Psalm 139, which was read in worship this past Sunday: 

O Lord, you have searched me and known me. 

You know when I sit down and when I rise up;

you discern my thoughts from far away.

You search out my path and my lying down, 

and are acquainted with all my ways.

Even before a word is on my tongue, 

O Lord, you know it completely. 

You hem me in, behind and before, 

and lay your hand upon me. 

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; 

it is so high that I cannot attain it. 

Where can I go from your spirit? 

Or where can I flee from your presence?

If I ascend to heaven, you are there;

if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.

If I take the wings of the morning

and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,

even there your hand shall lead me, 

and your right hand shall hold me fast.

If I say, "Surely the darkness shall cover me,

and the light around me become night,"

even the darkness is not dark to you; 

the night is as bright as the day,

for darkness is as light to you.

For it was you who formed my inward parts;

you knit me together in my mother's womb.

I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

Wonderful are your works; 

that I know very well. 

My frame was not hidden from you,

when I was being made in secret, 

intricately woven in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes beheld my unformed substance.

In your book were written 

all the days that were formed for me, 

when none of them as yet existed.

How weighty to me are your thoughts, 

O God!

How vast is the sum of them!

I try to count them--they are more than the sand;

I come to the end--I am still with you. 

The Children's March

I wrote about the march to Tuba in an earlier blog post here. Here is a short video of the kids walking to Tuba. 

A couple of videos

Here are a couple of videos that were taken in Tuba. The first one is long, however, if you skip to the end, you will get to meet one of the shepherds! The footage is pretty shaky, but it gives you a sense of how young the shepherds are, how many sheep they are responsible for, and what the terrain is like. 

Click here for the first one and here for the second one. 

The second video is also long (almost 4 minutes) and was taken by a fellow delegation member while we were detained. The older man with the weapon (and the red crocs!) is "settler security" and he is arguing with Shaun, one of the CPT full-time staff. Ahmed, in orange, is filming the entire conversation with his video camera from B'tselem. You can also see how young the soldiers are in the background. What you can't tell from the video is how bleepin' hot it was...

Pictures from Tuba

I wrote about staying in Tuba here, but now I have the pictures and can show you Omar's family and farm!

Check Points and Refugee Camps

After spending the first 2 days of our delegation in Jerusalem, we headed to Bethlehem. Bethlehem should be a 20-minute taxi ride from Jerusalem, however, it takes much longer because you have to enter the West Bank (Bethlehem is in the West Bank) through a checkpoint. 

Our van driver dropped us off at the checkpoint and we waited in the long line to have our passports checked. Palestinians who wish to enter/exit the West Bank must have a permit to do so. Even with a permit, it can take a LONG time to pass through security. Just to give you an idea, we met a Palestinian friend of CPT in Jerusalem who lives near Bethlehem and it took him an hour and 45 minutes to make the journey. 

Here we are at the checkpoint:

It wasn't difficult for us to get through the checkpoint because we are Americans. Once we got through, we took a taxi to Bethlehem. 

One of the most meaningful experiences, for me, was going to Aida refugee camp in Bethlehem. About 4,500 Palestinian refugees live in Aida and more than half of the people living in the camp are children. Their families have been living in the camp since they were pushed out of their villages when the state of Israel was created in 1948. Although many of their villages were located just a few miles away from the camp, the refugees are not allowed to return to their land. 

The key is a significant symbol for the refugees because it symbolizes their hope that they will someday return to their land. Because many Palestinians fled quickly and were not sure how long they would be gone, many families took only their keys when they left in 1948. Most likely, their homes have been destroyed or were occupied by Jews, however, they still hold onto the key. 

In 2004, Israel began building a 3-story concrete wall just a few meters from the houses of the camp. This wall is part of a system of walls and fences being built by Israel throughout the West Bank. Many Palestinians who live next to the wall call it a separation wall because it separates them from their farmland, their neighbors, and open land. 

We met a man named Rich who works at the Lajee Center in Aida Refugee Camp. "Lajee" means refugee in Arabic and the Lajee Center serves as a youth center for children and teens who live in the refugee camp. According to their website, their mission is to develop social awareness in refugee youth. 

"Activities are organised with the goal of fostering in the participants a wider understanding of the world in which they live, focusing on issues relating specifically to their own society, culture and history, as well as the global context. Our hope is to develop the social awareness of the children, deepen their education and provide them with the critical skills necessary for them to take on an active role in their society."

Rich told us the story of Miras, a young boy who was playing on his balcony and was shot in the stomach by an Israeli soldier who was shooting from a watchtower. He was hospitalized for 6 days. He also told us about Mahmud, a 13-year-old boy who was feeding his dog and was arrested by Israeli soldiers. He was blindfolded, handcuffed, beaten, and put in prison where he was not fed. Because he was in "administrative detention," he had no access to a lawyer and was being held without being charged of anything. He was released, eventually, and Rich told us that arresting children is a tactic used by Israeli police because they believe they can get more information out of children. The "information" the police gather doesn't have to be true, but they are able to coerce children into signing statements that incriminate various persons in the community and then Israel can make an arrest. 

The thing I love about Rich's work with the youth is that he uses his expertise as a photographer and videographer to help the youth tell their stories. By teaching them filmmaking and photography, the youth are given a chance to document their anxieties, fears, hopes, and experiences. The photographs and videos are then shared with the community outside of Aida as a way of educating people about life in the refugee camp. (In the picture below, Rich is pointing to photographs that have all been taken by children and youth.)

Some Background Info

I haven't posted for awhile--partly because I was in class all of last week and partly because I needed a break from talking about my trip. I've spent a lot of time thinking and processing and I finally feel ready to tell some of the stories.

Plus, I "dumped" a whole bunch of pictures on Facebook with no explanations and I didn't want to do that here. 

First of all, here is some important "lingo" for you to know. I should have posted this BEFORE my trip, but I was too busy trying to prevent an anxiety attack! =)

"Nakba": An Arabic word, "catastrophe," used to describe the events that took place in 1948 when Zionists proclaimed the establishment of the State of Israel. In 1948, Israel took over a land that was filled with Palestinian peoples. The Israeli army deported a million Palestinians from their cities and villages, massacred civilians, and razed to the ground hundreds of Palestinian villages. Those Palestinians who were not forcibly removed from their homes usually fled out of fear. Zionists then destroyed or inhabited these "abandoned" homes. For more information on the Nakba, click here. 

"Green Line": The Green Line refers to the international boundary line that was agreed upon after the 1948 Arab-Israeli war. It delineated the boundary line of the new state of Israel. In 1967, Israel invaded Gaza and the West Bank and has occupied those Palestinian territories ever since. (Gaza is the strip on the left of the map and the West Bank is the area on the right of the map between the Sea of Galilee in the north and the Dead Sea in the south.)

"Settlements": Once Israel occupied Gaza and the West Bank, they began confiscating land from Palestinians. One way of doing this is by sending in the military and establishing a "closed military zone." The militarized zone, even though it is on Palestinian land, cannot be accessed by Palestinians. Soon after, the militarized zones are spotted with settler outposts and the settler outposts grow into settlements. Settlers are Jews who move to the West Bank illegally. Some Jews settle there because it is cheap land and the houses are subsidized. (One of the CPT staff told us that settlers can get a house near Bethlehem for around $100,000.) Other Jews settle there because they are ideological settlers and they believe the land was given to them in the Bible. 

The settlements are heavily guarded by Israeli soldiers and it is estimated that, in Hebron, soldiers outnumber settlers 3:1. The soldiers are there to protect settlers from Palestinian "terrorists." 

The settlements also control all the water. For example, Tuwani and Tuba, two Palestinian villages, have a large Jewish settlement between them called Ma'On. Neither Tuwani nor Tuba have running water, however, Ma'On has not only running water, but enough water to irrigate cherry orchards and fill their swimming pools. Ma'On also has electricity. Tuba has NO electricity (although Omar's family had one solar panel on top of their cave that they use to charge their video camera from B'tselem) and Tuwani only has electricity for a couple of hours each night that comes from a generator. (Below: Tuwani is the small village on the left and Ma'On is the settlement on the hill on the right, Bottom: A closer view of Ma'On)

Pictures: Part 1

Sabah el Kheir

Sabah el Kheir! I may not have spelled it right, but this is Arabic for "Good Morning," or "Morning of Well-Being." It's not morning here, but it is morning in the US, so, "Sabah el Kheir." =)

We returned to Jerusalem last night and I had my first real shower in 8 days. It was WONDERFUL!

I am still processing the days we spent in At-Tuwani, a small village in the Hebron Hills where CPT has a full-time presence. The more I learn about CPT, the more I appreciate the work they do. They do not plan actions or lead events in At-Tuwani, they work with and follow the lead of the Palestinian people who live in Tuwani. They have been asked by the villagers to be there and they listen closely to their Palestinian partners in an effort to support their non-violent resistance.

Tuwani has no public water system.There is no electricity. The village has a generator, so the power comes on for a couple of hours each night, but that's it. Thanks to the joint efforts of the people in Tuwani and various NGOs, Tuwani has a clinic and a school. Located on the hill right above Tuwani is the Jewish settlement, Ma'On. Ma'On looks like a Californian suburb, complete with large homes (paid for in large part by YOUR tax dollars, my friends), cherry orchards, and swimming pools. It is hard to wrap your brain around.

Thursday night, five of us went with some of the full-time CPT staff to Tuba. Tuba is an even smaller village than Tuwani--there is no water, no electricity, and no road. Because the walk from Tuwani to Tuba goes past the settlement, we had to stay off the main road and hike up and down the hills. It was physically exhausting. Not to mention the fact that we had to constantly look over our shoulders in case there were settlers with baseball bats.

We split up in Tuba and Greta and I stayed with Omar's family. Omar and his wife have 10 children and they live in a cave. They used to store feed in the cave, but when their house was burned down by settlers, they moved into the cave and use it as their home.

Omar's family raises sheep, goats, chickens, and doves. They also have a donkey and LOTS of dogs. We had a blast playing with their kids. They didn't speak any English and we didn''t speak Arabic, so they mostly pushed us and pulled us to get us to do what they wanted!

Omar's family was SO hospitable. They fed us dinner in the cave and served us tea. Once the kids fell asleep, Omar began talking (our CPT person translated) about life in Tuba and how hard it is. He told us "Thank You" for coming to dinner with Arabs and we assured him that the pleasure was ours.

They sleep outside in the summer so we did too. I can't wait to put the pictures on the blog--we woke up in the morning and there were sheep at the bottom of our mats!

Friday morning we went with Ahmed, Omar's 16-year-old son, and Redwan, his 19-year-old nephew to the hills with their flocks. When I pictured Palestinian shepherds, I did not picture teenage boys! Ahmed and Redwan are actually the oldest of the shepherds, the other boys are around 10 years old. I was totally amazed by their skill in shepherding hundreds of sheep!

We had been walking for about an hour and a half when they stopped to rest near the settlement. While we were sitting there, we saw 4 army soldiers on the hill across from us. I asked Jessica (our CPT person) what we should do and she said, "We wait to see what the shepherds want us to do. If they want to leave, we will leave. If they want to stay, we will stay with them."

They decided to stay and my heart started to pound. It wasn't too much longer before the army jeep came rolling over the hill, along with the police, the settler security, and a crazed settler named Jehosophat. I wasn't sure whether I was more afraid of being arrested by the army or beaten up by the settlers.

Two of the soldiers came down to where we were and there was an exchange in Arabic. Ahmed, the 16-year-old, had received one of B'tselem's video cameras in their "Shooting Back" campaign and he immediately started filming. (The idea is that soldiers are less likely to commit violence against Palestinians if they know they are being filmed) They told the boys they were on "State land" and could not be there. The boys said they had every right to be there and refused to leave.

It was agreed that the younger boys would take the sheep and go home, but Ahmed and Redwan stayed. The army asked for identification and took all of our passports.

There was a lot of confusion. The army made a lot of phone calls. We were told that we had to wait until the DCO (the civil administration) came because they would bring official maps and could determine whether or not the shepherds had a right to be there. When the DCO finally showed up, they had no maps and instead relied on the maps that the settlers had, which showed the land belonged to the settlement.

Three hours later, they decided to let us (the internationals) go AFTER we signed a form in Hebrew. We had to sign it in order to get our passports back, but CPT instructed us to make sure we wrote "I do not understand Hebrew" next to our signature. They called us to the police car one by one to sign and I know they were trying to intimidate us.

They let Ahmed go, but put Redwan in the police car. They told us they were taking him to the police station in order to "help him figure out" which land he could be on. I will never forget what it felt like to look at Redwan as they shut the police car door. He looked right at me and, knowing no Arabic, I gave him a thumb's up. It felt dumb as soon as I did it, but he smiled and gave me a thumb's up back. I believe he felt like he was doing what he had to do--he had chosen not to leave and this was the consequence. He's 19 years old--a year younger than my brother--and he was taken to the police station because he took his family's sheep to a hill on their own land. It's total bullshit. Absolute and total bullshit.

The walk back to Tuwani was pretty quiet and everyone was glad when we returned. I hadn't cried while were being detained (a small miracle!) but it felt good to cry when we got back to Tuwani. We still don't know what happened to Redwan, but, knowing Redwan and his family, it is likely they will continue taking their sheep to the same place. We aren't there anymore, but the resistance continues...

We are leaving Hebron tonight and I'm not sure if I will have internet access for a couple of days. Tomorrow we go to Tuwani (where the action was on Monday) and it is possible they will ask us to do another walk to Tuba.

I will post if I have access, otherwise, it will be a couple of days before another update. We will be in Jerusalem by Saturday night.

I feel greedy for asking, but please continue to pray. The team is getting tired!

I have to say again, I am so grateful for all of your love and support. It has been such a blessing to read your blog comments, your facebook comments, and your emails. I am grateful to everyone who contributed financially so that I could have this experience. I am grateful for the ways you have encouraged and supported me--from praying with me over Skype, to loaning me your backpack, your ipod, your camping towel, and your long-sleeved clothes! I even have a friend who changed her facebook picture to be a picture of the two of us--she is doing it as a sort of "vigil" while we are gone. Much love to my friends and family!

The truth is...

It is Wednesday morning here. We left Denver 10 days ago and, the truth is, I am ready to be home. I am ready for flush toilets, showers, a/c, clean clothes, and my husband. I am tired of walking, falafel, and sleeping on a mattress on the floor. The truth is, I am tired of hearing sad and painful things. I can FEEL the stories in my body--my body is carrying them and I think it is full.

I am tired of occupation. I am tired of barbed wire and checkpoints and soldiers and 10-year-old Jewish boys who call our Palestinian tour guides "bastards." I am tired of hearing about men who are arrested for no reason. Yesterday, we saw nearly 1000 children carrying buckets to the soup kitchen where they receive a bucket of soup for their family. We met a mother who can't send her children outside in the front yard because settlers will throw bricks. I am tired, tired, tired.

And the truth is, I am a wimp. I have only been here 10 days and I am tired. I am full. And it humbles me. I don't know how people live like this day after day and year after year. I don't know how they handle the fear and anxiety and the feeling like you might cry at any moment. They are amazing. They are brave. They are resilient. They are the REAL peacemakers. I am just tired...

Palestinian Children Are My Heroes

I'm not sure how to begin today's post. There really are no words.

We arrived in Tuwani around 9AM. There is a full-time CPT team that lives in Tuwani and they had been asked by local Palestinians to join the walk to Tuba (where the school is).

I ended up going with Joy, one of the full-time staff, up to one of the hills where we could videotape the walkers and call the media if necessary. We had a clear view of the road the children/internationals would be walking and it was our job to call the CPT staff when we saw military and/or settlers. (We saw both)

We were there about 30 minutes before the walkers came into view and what I saw was completely different than what I had imagined. In my mind, I had pictured big, brave internationals shepherding small, frightened children on the road. I imagined that walkers would try to be as indiscreet as possible.

Joy and I actually heard the walkers before we saw them. There were over 60 children walking and almost 20 internationals. The children were whistling, cheering, banging drums, and carrying flags. It was unbelievable.

Their teachers were walking with them and all were chanting in Arabic. I didn't understand what they were saying, but the message was clear.

They were boldly proclaiming that they have the right to walk to school. They were announcing that, despite the fact that the army can arrest their fathers and brothers and the settlers can beat them with baseball bats, they refuse to be afraid. They refuse to be violent. I stood at the top of the hill and watched the bravest people I have ever seen. And I wept.

Palestinian Children Are My Heroes

We only have a few minutes before our afternoon tour of Hebron but I wanted to post and let everyone know that we returned safely. All went well and I will DEFINITELY post more later.

Thanks for rallying! =)

It's Time to Rally: Please Send Prayers to Tuwani

I am trying to breathe. I am trying to breathe. Tomorrow is our first action and I am a disaster. I am trying to breathe.

We will get leave Hebron at 7:15 tomorrow morning and take a taxi to Tuwani. At 9:00 AM we will walk Palestinian children to their summer school classes.

The road they have taken in the past has been completely taken over by Israeli settlers. Palestinians are too scared to take the main road so they travel the rockier, hillier, longer route to their summer school classes.

We have been prepped for possible settler attacks and/or arrest by Israeli soldiers for being in a restricted area. There will be 15-20 of us internationals and, hopefully, our presence will prevent any violence being done to the Palestinian children. I feel the need to vomit when I think about witnessing violence against children...

Please, please, please send your prayers this way. We know you all are powerful pray-ers!

We have internet access in Hebron where we are staying so I will email/post immediately when we have safely returned.

Delegation: Day 3

I took this picture last night when we were touring the refugee camp in Bethlehem. I took 3 pictures hoping I could get the boy to look up, but he was too busy with his ice cream! =)

I don't feel like posting much today but I wanted to assure everyone that we are fine.

We went to Tent of Nations this morning and heard AMAZING stories from Palestinian brothers. I highly encourage you to check out their website.

This afternoon we went to AIC in Bethlehem. AIC stands for "Alternative Information Centre," an organization made up of both Israelis and Palestinians that offers an alternative approach/analysis to what is portrayed in the media.

Tomorrow we will get a tour of the wall and then tomorrow evening we head to Hebron.