Jerseygirl Jesus Goes To Jordan…

When I was sitting at my mom’s house in Pennsylvania, and some big shot theologian dude named Benjamin Corey hit me up on Facebook with a friend request, my first thought was He must think I’m someone else.  Then I thought, Oh, he’s probably just friending all the Progressive Christian bloggers.” 

But the next day, he send me a private message that essentially said, “Hey, wanna go to Jordan?”

And strangely enough, I said Yes.

The fear was almost instantaneous. WTF did I just say yes to? I know I’ve been wanting to travel — but Jordan? The Middle East?

I’d been thinking something much more tame. Like London. Milan, perhaps, if we were going to get all wild and crazy about it.

Not Jordan. Not the Middle East. But I said yes. I said yes because I felt like God was doing something slightly miraculous, and I was in the mood for some miracles. But the fear continued. About all sorts of things, some valid, some not.

First: I curse a lot in my blog. Is that okay? (yes).

Second: I’m a picky eater. What will I eat? (The food is delicious).

Third: Jordan is dangerous. Isn’t Jordan dangerous? (Actually, no, it’s perfectly safe.)

Fourth: Will I know how to use the toilet? (In most places, Western toilets are available, although there may be a bathroom attendant who doles out the toilet paper. Hasn’t been a problem yet, and the conversations with the attendants have been sweet.)

Fifth: Wait. Hold up. I have to travel with a bunch of Christians? 

Fuck.

Are they going to get me? Will I have anyone to play with? Will this be eighth grade all over again, but worse, because they’ll be shunning me in the name of God?

(Ben and the rest of the amazing people I’m travelling with are very cool and curse just as much as I do. Thank God.)

But here’s the amazing thing about Jordan — it feels like I was meant to be here. My DNA comes from greener pastures — physically speaking, at least. My people hail from the Green Isle, and I of course feel great affinity to Ireland. But there’s something about Jordan that feels like home.

Maybe that’s because God is here.

He’s all over. He’s in the Jabbok River, where Jacob wrestled God.

He’s there in Umm Qais, where you can almost still hear his sandals on the stones, and the melodic prayers float up from the lush valley below. There where you can see that Sea of Galilee, where Jesus was, and you can see that hill, just to the left, where all those crazed swine tossed themselves to their deaths after Jesus took mercy on the demons for some incomprehensible reason, and sent them into the pigs.

You can come here, to Jordan, and you can meet the people, and discover that all of a sudden in the knowing your fears — they melt away. You drive through the city and in the safety of your car, you notice that the families — they are the same as at home. A father clasps his little boy’s face in love and joy, laughing at his antics. Two friends walk down the street, sharing their secrets. People smile. Laughter. Eyes — that see me, wonder about me, but risk a warm Hello. A cautious, What is your name? A gentle, That color is so nice on you.

Or, perhaps, you meet Theo. I’m sure I’ve not got his name right, but I asked him five times and he kept saying I’d got it, so it’s as close as I could get. He took me on a tour of the Temple of Artemesis. And let’s be clear — I knew he wanted to be paid. But I also knew he was happy for the interaction. In the end, I paid him — he did his job well. He helped me climb through ruins I would not have climbed without him, with his maybe encouraging or maybe insulting, “Fat woman and old woman do this last week, you can too!” words of sage wisdom. He wanted to know if his English was good (it was) and if we understood him (we did). He was kind and warm, and only a little bit pushy about wanting to help us. He successfully broke through my Jersey attitude and made me smile. He has something he wants to say:

I’m going to dig deeper into this experience when I’m not exhausted and jet lagged and will share more pictures as I uncover them all from my iPhone — I feel God speaking to my soul here in Jordan. But for now, enjoy these pictures.