Serendipity

The field below my balcony

The mornings here are so still, quiet and calming for me. The light is bright, the sun intense. Sitting on my small little balcony, I take in the barren, rocky landscape. My rickety chair provides just enough support for me to close my eyes, put my head back, and drink in the wonder of the new day. Coffee and bible in hand, I open myself to the sacred silence of God's salutation. 

Last Saturday morning looking at my view, I noticed a Palestinian farmer up early working in his small olive grove. His donkey tethered, he was tending to his trees, weeding, and checking out his olives. This was the first sign I had seen of the pending olive harvest that provides an enormous boost to the Palestinian economy. Families from all over the West Bank return to their villages to help with the picking. Internationals come from all over the world to assist farmers who are constrained by the regional violence and politics. As I sat watching this one farmer care for his handful of trees, I longingly wished that I had some way of being part of this crucial harvest for the Palestinians.

Scheduled later that afternoon was a rendezvous with my good friend Will McGarvey. Will and I were neighbors in seminary and are pastoral colleagues in our Presbytery. While we rarely cross paths at home, I noticed his facebook posting that said he was in Israel/Palestine leading a group. I got in contact and we decided to meet up. When the group arrived on Saturday evening in Beit Sahour, the town next to Bethlehem, I met him at his hotel for drinks. 

Picking olives!

As soon as I arrived, people began introducing themselves and welcoming me. "Welcoming me to what?" I thought. "I'm not going anywhere with you guys." Will and I excused ourselves to the bar to catch up. We hadn't been there long when I discovered that Will and his group were here to pick olives as part of an international contingent with the Joint Advocacy Initiative, a program of the YMCA. The group of 50+ was having an orientation that night and were scheduled to start picking olives the next day. At Will's invitation, the organizers let me join their group! 

God's serendipity is like that. A whispered longing realized in an unexpected way. I'm rediscovering the nuance of God's breath, the light breeze dusting my soul with a heightened awareness of the Spirit's leading. The impacted schedule I left behind in Berkeley often exhausts me to the point that I have little time for attentive appreciation. I'm grateful for the spaciousness of time and place that invites me to remember to attend again. 

a sampling of the harvest