Sunday, August 14, 2011

Jerusalem, Jerusalem

As I sat in church this morning back home in Washington, my heart nearly shattered as I stared at the brick wall behind the speaker instead of this glorious view I enjoyed for the last 3 1/2 months.


We sang the same hymns that I had just sung at the Sea of Galilee not three weeks earlier, and the phrase "walk the path that thou hast shown" felt like someone was squeezing my insides, because I suddenly realized I wouldn't be able to walk in the Savior's physical footsteps anymore. I wouldn't be able to go visit the Garden of Gethsemane after church. 

The sacrament bread wasn't pita. It was just bread.

The speaker talked about David, that great king of Jerusalem. I thought of his palace I just went to a few weeks ago for the third time this summer. Then she talked about Peter. 

I was just at Peter's house. 

It took everything I had to not break down in tears over and over again, and I couldn't even describe why. In desperation, I opened my Bible and looked at the pictures and maps in the back. I found Jerusalem. It was nothing like the real thing, but it was the only consolation I had.

In Sunday school, we read the verses in the Acts about Paul having a dream in Troas about a Macedonian man pleading for his help. Not three months ago, I stood in Troas, reading this same verse as I looked over to Macedonia. They read the passages like they were nothing, and my heart simply ached because they didn't understand. I wanted to stand up and scream,"No, wait. You missed it," but there was nothing I could say. They couldn't understand. 

It wasn't their fault.

Church was hard today. It took me by surprise and with more impact than I was ready to handle. I knew Jerusalem had changed me, but I didn't realize how much. I'm sure this is only the beginning in a long line of these experiences, but at least I have 79 other students to go through it with me. 

I came home and stared at these pictures for awhile, and then I felt better. Although I'm not there anymore, my city still is. My beautiful, magical city. My Jerusalem Center experience didn't end when I got on that plane to come home. In fact, I think it's only the beginning. 


Jerusalem Time Lapse: A City of Many Colors

5:06 a.m.

5:26 a.m.

5:33 a.m.

 5:48 a.m.

 6:12 a.m.

6:16 a.m.

6:42 a.m.

9:41 a.m.

12:43 p.m.

4:10 p.m.


7:01 p.m.

 7:17 p.m.

7:28 p.m.

 7:35 p.m.

 7:42 p.m.

7:50 p.m.

8:00 p.m.

8:12 p.m.


And this is what I look like when I wake up at 4:45 a.m. the day of finals to take pictures. This is quite possibly the best self-portrait ever.


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