The start of the story...

Hello dear friends,

I've been home for a week now and I guess it's about time that I start getting some of my thoughts out there.  After such an intense trip it definitely takes some time to sort through all of my emotions and experiences and I am slightly overwhelmed by the immensity of the things that I want to share with you.

I'm going to do this in chunks, I think, because I don't want to overwhelm you and I don't want to leave anything important out :)

Firstly...the single hardest part of my trip was not being able to talk to anyone at home about the details of where we were or what we were doing.  The truth is that we spent quite a bit of time in the West Bank and met with a lot of people and went to a lot of places that could have created a lot of unnecessary hassle if Israel had found out.

Israel most definitely does not appreciate anything that could be construed as "anti-Israeli" or any criticisms whatsoever of its policies, etc.  In fact, it is illegal to say anything against the Israeli state.

The truth is that in between the regular touristy things we saw a lot of heartbreaking things that shocked me hugely.  Things that now I am able to share with you, now that there is no fear of being held up at the border or detained while leaving the country.

This issue is complicated.  There are dozens of sides.  There is pain and injustice and violence on both sides of the wall.

There is hopelessness.

There is hope.

There are people here.

People who do not have adequate medical care, or access to the same education. People who suffer without running water.  People who have been driven from their homes.  People who have had their land taken away or destroyed.  People whose homes have been demolished.  People who live behind a wall, fenced in for their entire lives.  People who were born and have lived for over sixty years in refugee camps.  Parents who throw weddings, teenagers who dance, boys who play soccer in the streets, girls who eat ice cream on the sidewalk.  Children who play with rocks.

There are people, like you and I.  Forgotten behind a wall, separated from their families, unable to return to the homes they once lived in.  People with the same human rights that I have, yet are denied on a daily basis.

These are their stories.

There are stories of other people too.  The people on the other side of the wall, the "good" side.  The side where there are shopping malls and decent streets, where there are sidewalks and garbage collection.  The side where people can have surgeries, if needed.  Outdoor concerts for teenagers.  Good universities.  The Mediterranean Sea.  Water at the turn of a spout, all the time.  There are people here too.  Children who play, teenagers who dance.  People who are making a living to support their families.

These are their stories too.  The stories of the people who fight for peace and hope in the midst of all the crazy.  The stories of the people who are breaking the silence.  The stories of those who want more for their children.

I simply pray that I can do them justice, to tell these stories with the dignity and respect that these people deserve.  To honour the people of this place and my Saviour that walked there.

Stay tuned.