WINGS OF THE MORNING

CHAPTER 12

WINGS OF THE MORNING

"If I take the wings of the morning,and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me."
Psalms 139:9-10

The face of Steven Speilberg on the cover of Newsweek magazine grabbed my attention in the checkout line. Waiting for the clerk to finish ringing my groceries I flipped the pages in the magazine. Schindler's List! Photos showed gaunt faces of World War II victims of the Holocaust. Jewish children clinging to their mothers as Hitler's SS troops callously separated them.

I have always been touched by the helpless plight of the Jews, especially in the diabolical pogroms that were conducted against them in Europe. After becoming a Christian, I learned that this race of people was special in the eyes of God. In fact, the Jews are referred to as "the apple of his eye". A chosen people, selected to bring forth Messiah. Yeshua Ha Mashiach.

Although never having a desire to go to Israel, I have prayed many times for the peace of Jerusalem. Now, with Spielberg's new movie coming out, I found myself reading everything I could get my hands on about the holocaust. I even mentioned to Charlie that I thought I might like to take a trip to Israel. He was surprised since this was a country that he and I agreed we would probably never visit, especially after watching the evening news. Bombings and shootings seemed to be a daily occurrence in the Holy Land. No place for a mother and grandmother to be visiting. Right?

One evening, as I was cozily curled up with a book about a Christian Jewish survivor of Auschwitz, the phone rang. A neighbor cheerily said, "Jerri. This is Susan. Do you by any chance know Gisela Mann?"
Startled, I answered, "Sure. In fact, I was just thinking about her today."
Laughing, Susan said, "Well, she's here at my house. Come on over." Coffee cup in hand, slippers on feet, I jumped in my car and headed down to Susan's.

As I drove, I thought of Gisela. I hadn't seen nor heard from her in two years. She and I had some unusual things in common. A German born Jewess, Gisela had survived the Holocaust as a small child, only to grow up and become an alcoholic and a member of the German Hell's Angel's motorcycle gang. After she moved to America with her serviceman husband, the Lord reached down and saved her. Gisela called herself a "completed Jew.”

As Susan opened the door, Gisela bounced her 4' 9" frame off the sofa, grabbed me in a bear hug and blurted out, "Jerri, I'm going to Israel for three weeks. Want to go with me?"

My head was spinning for the next few months. I was going to be part of a small group of Christians, nine of us in all, traveling with a Jewish volunteer organization to help rebuild Israel! The promotional video didn't pull any punches. We would be working with the Israeli Defense Force, most likely in the Golan Heights. The only difference between our uniforms and that of the IDF would be a small blue piece of material that was buttoned on to the shoulders of our uniforms, stating in Hebrew that we were volunteers. (Not much protection if enemy fire came.)

As volunteers, we were each required to sign statements that we would not proselytize under possible penalty of deportation! It wouldn't be easy to keep quiet about our faith in Christ, but our desire to help Israel in this physical way overcame this seeming obstacle. Besides, we would just let Jesus shine through us.
Easy to say.

After being awake for 44 hours, traveling by plane and bus, we arrived in the mountainous region of northern Israel. So this was the Golan Heights I had seen and heard about on CNN.

Altogether there were ten women on our team, four Jewish and six Gentile. The four women who had come from the states with Gisela shared one room. Our bunks were metal with thin mattresses and army blankets. Together, we all shared one toilet and one shower. The men were in separate dormitories.

As we tumbled out of our bunks that first morning, I felt every bit of my fifty-four years. What in the world was I doing here? While we adjusted our belts, laced up our army boots, and attached our canteens, we laughed at one another. If the folks back home could only see us now!

A bus took us to our assignment farther north at a supply depot. There we were to tie steel, making reinforcements for concrete bunkers. The bunkers were three sided, a perfect protection for Israeli soldiers to hide behind during ground fire attack. The daily noise of machine gun fire and exploding shells on the nearby target range was a completely new experience for most of us. It was amazing how soon we became accustomed to the shattering sounds. This was life in modern Israel.

Working side by side with American Jews, I learned to appreciate their devotion to the preservation of Jewish society. Each member of the team was there as a volunteer, spending his money and time to bless this tiny nation that had been struggling as a sovereign state since 1948. In one of our nightly lectures by the IDF, we learned that this particular volunteer organization saved the State of Israel five million dollars a year.

We were also keenly aware that people are people no matter where they're from. Rebekah was living proof of that. A swinging single from San Diego, Rebekah had less than noble aspirations for signing on as a volunteer. Flaming red hair, voluptuous with a sexy aura about her, she caused the men, young and old, to flock around her no matter where we were.
It became a guessing game as to how long it would take her to catch the available males we encountered on our sightseeing trips into the villages or kibbutzim. She certainly had a way with men, almost to the point of causing problems within the rank and file. At one point, upset that she couldn't go back into town at night, she complained to the base commander and left, leaving our Madricha (team leader) in tears.

Sensing that Rebekah was really needy spiritually, we began to earnestly pray for her. It was as if Satan had been alerted. Rebekah began to express hostility toward us in little ways. Lior, one of our Madrichas, told us that Rebekah had complained we were trying to proselyte the Jewish women. We banded together in expressing more love to her and continued to resort to God in prayer for her. Here was our opportunity to shine!

Our three week tour of duty completed, we boarded a bus for Jerusalem and Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Museum. With sixteen of us on a sixty passenger bus, there was more than enough room. I prayed, "Oh God, please let Rebekah sit by me. Let me share your love with her before we leave Israel." I knew we would probably never see each other again after this one last stop in Jerusalem.

Watching her walk down the aisle of the bus, I held my breath. "Can I sit by you," she asked.

"Thank you Lord."

The next few hours flew by as I shared the wonders of the word of God.
She drank in every word. As the miles went by, Rebekah began to talk, sharing her heart-rending story with me.

Joining the volunteer group had been a last resort for Rebekah. Her life had been in chaos. Recovering from a recent abortion, she had searched desperately for God, attending every synagogue and church looking for answers. There were none. She felt God had forsaken her.

The bus dropped us off near Ben Yehuda Street in Jerusalem, and we all began walking to our hotels. The near 100 degree temperature, in addition to all the luggage we were carrying, was making walking incredibly difficult. I turned around to see where Rebekah was. There on the sidewalk, about fifty feet behind us, I could see her talking with Gisela. I just knew Gisela was sharing the reality of her Messiah with Rebekah. Somehow the heat didn't matter now. As I continued walking, I prayed in earnest.

As Gisela and Rebekah approached the rest of us, Rebekah asked, "Can I come and stay with you tonight?"

Since we were now officially through with our volunteer mission we had no qualms about Rebekah bunking with a room full of Christians. We were overjoyed. "Of course you can."

Later, at two o'clock in the morning, one lonely, unhappy Jewish woman found her Messiah. As Gisela shared her own personal story of recognizing Yeshua as the "Promised One,” Rebekah's heart responded with a resounding Amen!

Later, in the cramped quarters of our hostel room, Rebekah bowed her head. Together we joined in prayer, identifying with this daughter of Israel. As we asked God to help her and guide her throughout her life, our hearts were humbled. We were only beginning to realize what great lengths God would go to, in bringing a lost sinner to himself. He is truly an awesome God!

Prayer for Today

Dear Lord,

Thank you for showing me in so many ways how much you care for this lost world. Help me to realize that no distance is too far, no sacrifice too great, when it comes to reaching the lost for you.

In Jesus name,
Amen