We are Humans

Remove from your mind everything you have been told about these people. Remove your political affiliation, remove the fact that the media has labeled them terrorists since before a time you can remember, and see them instead as I now see them: fathers, mothers, children. It doesn't matter if you dress in a niqab, or if you walk around with scripture tied to your head with leather straps, or if you are a Mormon from San Diego, we are all doing our best to live a good life and praise the same God. What I witnessed in Jerusalem was deplorable. It was the first time in my life that I have witnessed racism- real hatred of another "race" that brought tears to my eyes over and over and over again. Arabs, no matter if they are Christian or Muslim, are denied the right to vote, citizenship, running water, sewage, garbage collection, schools for their children, the ability to travel or drive on roads, freedom- the very thing that we Americans boast about fighting for. Many are essentially locked in ghettos as a result of the separation wall, or what the Arabs call, the apartheid wall. Regardless of what people consider race, or a difference of religion, a government that denies half its people basic human rights is something I will never support, and I'm ashamed that my taxes assist in their efforts. I feel like my experience in the Middle East is a gift, and the things I have learned on my own accord have changed my heart. Maybe reading about them changed yours, too.

With that said, our final week was spent in the religious capital of the world, and the city did not disappoint! I was most touched at the garden tomb, where many believe Christ was laid to rest. On the door to the tomb, there is carving that reads, "He is not here, for he is risen." There is an unspoken reverence at that place. The garden of Gethsemane, similarly, was my other favorite spot. While walking around the garden, pointing out birds with London, I couldn't help but feel grateful for my Savior. We visited more tunnels, ruins, and churches than I ever could recall, but what I enjoyed most was walking around Jerusalem and meeting the people. 


Sitting on my mother-in-law's couch now, in Hillsboro, Oregon, I miss the Middle East. I miss the kindness and the simplicity of a place that is so different from America in so many ways, that it becomes easy for us to label and to separate and to dismiss and to fear.