Oh, I know all about maintaining balance in your life. Meet with the Lord every morning for a meaningful visit. Walk for an hour each afternoon to clear the mind and exercise the body. Read something that nourishes heart and spirit before heading for bed. Sleep eight hours. Eat healthy foods. Drink plenty of water.

It all sounds very restful and wise and good. But that’s not what life looks like at the Higgs house.

My conversations with the Lord usually happen in the shower. My daily walk is a brisk thirty-second stroll from the back door of my house to the front door of my office. I read novels on my Kindle, am lucky if I get five hours of sleep a night, drink water only if it’s flavored, and eat whatever’s in the fridge or on sale.

Not very spiritual, I know. Just the truth.

Even the word “balance” makes me nervous, bringing to mind that low wooden beam in gym class. One false step, and I was on the floor, groaning.

Maybe that’s why I define “balance” as walking in God’s will, which is surprisingly effortless, since “he will be our guide even to the end” (Psalm 48:14).

Of late, here is what God is asking of me: Fret less. Smile more. Give thanks. Judge not. Do the work he places in my hands. Love the people he brings across my path. Meditate on a verse from Scripture like a hard candy, chewing on it until nothing remains but the sweet taste—“sweeter than honey to my mouth!” (Psalm 119:103).

And when I sleep, I sleep well, knowing the day’s work, however great or small, is done. I cannot have those hours back, and so I rest in this comforting promise: “He will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore” (Psalm 121:7-8).

Copyright © 2012 Liz Curtis Higgs. All Rights Reserved.

Standing in what shade we could find, I taught from various passages—Genesis 29:16-20; 30:1; 30:22-24; 35:16-20—recreating the story of the young matriarch who demanded of her husband, “Give me children, or I’ll die!” Both requests were answered in the years that followed, resulting in the births of Joseph and Benjamin, before Rachel’s untimely death by that very roadside.

Time for a happier story! We moved to a spot overlooking Bethlehem, where I had the blessing of teaching Ruth 2:1-12, which describes her meeting Boaz while gleaning in his barley field. As we listened and learned, we gazed upon those same fields and, in the distance, the mountains of Moab, Ruth’s homeland.

First, Hedva provided some of the historical and geological context for us. Once again, we had the perfect spot for teaching, for listening, for sightseeing in our ever-amazing Israel!

And check out these wild, windswept trees that stretched across the hilltop. My camera wasn’t crooked…the trees were!

Some of our group went on to Bethlehem for a brief tour, while the rest took camel rides. No photo exists of me riding a camel because, beloved, there is no way I was going to let the owner break his back trying to hoist me onto that poor camel! But I was happy to serve as our official photographer. Wave to Jerusalem, sis!

Back to the Old City Market we went for a final round of shopping. I chose a pair of silver candlesticks, a hand-painted tambourine, a wooden mezuzah, a silver pendant, and ten scarves to share with Facebook followers. When darkness fell, we made our way through the Armenian Quarter for our farewell dinner at Boulghourji, another fabulous Mediterranean restaurant, before heading to the Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv for our overnight flights home.

In a lifetime of traveling, this was truly the most amazing journey I’ve ever taken. Now I’m on a mission to tell every believer, “Go, go, GO to Israel!” Here’s a place to begin: http://www.goisrael.com. I’m planning to lead another group there in a year or two. In the meantime, how we’ve loved having you “travel” with us on our Women of the Bible Tour of the Holy Land!

Though historians can’t say with absolute certainty that this is where Jesus was crucified and buried, an ancient tomb carved into the rock, a large cistern, and a wine press from the late Second Temple Period do suggest this was a rich man’s vineyard, and a skull-like rock formation fits perfectly the biblical description of Golgotha.

Back on the motor coach we went, and off to a forest, where we each planted a tree, leaving a bit of ourselves behind in Israel and doing our tiny part to help restore the land. Despite the overcast skies and muddy ground, this turned out to be an unexpected highlight of our trip.

Next we participated in a midday wine-tasting (though, to be honest, most of us sipped glasses of water), while we enjoyed fresh bread with superb local cheeses. We studied the story of Manoah’s wife, the mother of Samson, from Judges 13:1-25, as we gazed at the landscape where “the angel of God came again to the woman while she was out in the field.” Judges 13:9

As the afternoon drew to a close we returned to the Old City and welcomed the Jewish Sabbath by walking to the Western Wall and praying on the women’s side. Very moving, to touch that ancient stone.

Taking photos at the wall itself on Shabbat is not permitted—this one was taken the previous day from a distance. Now imagine this holy place at night, brightly lit with spotlights. Hundreds upon hundreds of people tucked prayers into crevices in the temple wall, then slowly backed away, continuing to face the wall. History was beneath, above, around, in the air, in the hushed voices, in the gentle weeping.

Our evening continued with a traditional Shabbat dinner, hosted by a charming Jewish couple and their kids, who stood at the door and counted us as we came into their home. Michelle and Natanel Cohen have created a unique ministry, sharing their traditions with visitors every Friday night: http://www.shabbatofalifetime.com

The food was wonderful, the information they shared fascinating, but I confess my favorite part was the exuberant singing and the way this young father blessed his children with his smiles and kisses, then sang the closing lines of Proverbs 31 to his lovely young wife. It truly was the “Shabbat of a Lifetime.”

“We’re not putting on a show,” they assured us. “This is how our family enters into Shabbat. Welcome.”

By evening’s end our hearts were full, and our senses on overload. Only one more day in Israel remained. Time to pack, time to pray, time to think about saying good-bye to three dozen sisters who’d become true friends.

And then we entered the Temple Mount and beheld the golden Dome of the Rock, a Byzantine-era shrine. Here and there Muslim men were gathered in small groups to study the Qur’an, barely glancing our direction as we walked across the broad courtyard and snapped endless photos of the blue-and-white porcelain walls and the gold-covered dome.

Not sure how I imagined the Pool of Bethesda might look, but when we visited there next, I was surprised to see deeply hewn rock and a thin stream of water far below us. “Here a great number of disabled people used to lie—the blind, the lame, the paralyzed.” John 5:3

Midday found us at the Bible Lands Museum, where each ancient artifact was fully described including a passage of Scripture. I now have a much clearer picture of those household idols Rachel took from her father. No wonder she could sit on them: they were tiny, like miniature action figures! Since we couldn’t take photos, check out their website: http://www.blmj.org/en/index.php.

At the nearby Israeli Museum we saw the Shrine of the Book with one of the original Dead Sea Scrolls and a huge outdoor model of old Jerusalem.

Our sightseeing day ended at the Holocaust Memorial of Yad Vashem, which completely undid me. A series of paths guided us through rooms with artifacts and video interviews of survivors, their stories unfolding chronologically through the desperate days of World War II. The sense of loss was overwhelming, yet as we walked ever upward, we finally reached a glass wall with a green and peaceful view and sunlight streaming through the trees: “hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11

Though many travelers are there to check off their must-see list and snap photos, other pilgrims come with Bibles in hand and earnest expressions on their faces, longing to encounter the Christ anew.

Crossing paths with visitors from all over the world means enjoying a heady mix of languages, cultures, and ethnic groups, which the aptly named Church of All Nations on the Mount of Olives celebrates.

A short journey brought us inside the walls of the Old City of Jerusalem, and we begin the slow walk up the Via Dolorosa—the Way of Suffering.

More than once we brushed away tears, especially as we reached each Station of the Cross and thought about the Lord’s agonizing journey. In one small chapel someone in our group began softly singing, “We Are Standing on Holy Ground.” Indeed.

The afternoon ended on the steps of the Church of St. John the Baptist in Ein Karem, where I taught on Mary visiting Elizabeth from Luke 1:39-45, then we walked on to Mary’s Spring as the sun was setting on another eye-opening day in Jerusalem.

I asked one friend back home to specifically pray no one in our group would take a tumble, knowing what a damper that would put on the trip. Her prayers were answered: we climbed up, but we never fell down!

The streets and walkways were crowded with people of many nationalities and faiths. Exotic foods awaited us on every corner. We drank boatloads of fresh pomegranate juice.

And we sampled the largest bagels in captivity. Soft, warm, delicious.

Camels appeared in unexpected places, and cats were everywhere—in the Arab Quarter, the Jewish Quarter, the Armenian Quarter, the Christian Quarter. No matter the language or culture, “Meow” sounds quite the same.

Of course, there were endless temptations to shop, with merchants constantly waving their wares in our direction, calling out invitations, offering bargains. I soon learned the key was being willing to walk away. The price went down with every step.

But what we came to Jerusalem for was a spiritual experience, and that we soon had in abundance.

Bev is a small woman. Bev doesn’t get it. Plus-size women float in any sea—the Red Sea, the Black Sea, the Dead Sea, the Living Sea. Big girls are nothing if not buoyant!

I managed to find a modest swimsuit in my size. The name of this bright floral creation? “Blue Wahoo.” As a sister on Facebook said, “At least they didn’t call it ‘Big Kahuna.’” Thank you, Lord.

What a strange sensation, floating in that water. Ten times saltier than the ocean, it felt like baby oil on our skin. Floating was easy. Trying to stand? Not so much. It took about four people to help me get back on my feet, in part because our bodies were so slippery, but mostly because I was laughing so hard.

Then it was back to the beach so we could slather Dead Sea mud all over our bodies. Full of minerals, this goop is really good for your skin and feels like chocolate silk pie. Bev soon dubbed us “Sisters of the Mud,” as we all waded back into the sea together like some strange tribe performing an ancient ritual.

Beloved, if you think I’m going to show you any more of me than this, wearing my Blue Wahoo bathing suit, that is so not happening. Just use your imagination. Okay, maybe not.

Masada was next, ascending by cable car. I know—wimpy, wimpy, wimpy—but those 800+ steps in the heat were too daunting for this crew.

It was a much larger area than most of us had imagined, a vast desert fortress where a group of zealous Jews took their courageous last stand in 72 A.D. Portions of Herod’s elaborate palace are still there—built as a just-in-case refuge—and the ruins of the original Roman camp are visible as well. Talk about history coming alive!

Our next stop was the oasis at Ein Gedi, where David fled from Saul and wrote, “As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God.” Psalm 42:1 To be honest I’d pictured more water or more trees, but in the middle of a desert, near a salty Dead Sea, even a drop of fresh water would have been welcome.

While there we considered the story of David and Bathsheba from 2 Samuel 11:1-4, then continued north to Jericho, where we saw the Zacchaeus tree. Hmmm. It was a very old tree, but I’m thinking not 2,000 years old. Then we spent time with Rahab under a waxing moon as we looked at Joshua 2:1-21 and 6:1-25, before climbing the road toward Jerusalem.

We got our first glimpse of the place with “The Holy City” blasting on the motor coach CD player, and then I read Psalm 22 with a lump in my throat. “Our feet are standing in your gates, O Jerusalem…”

Standing beneath a wooden lattice in our sun-dappled outdoor classroom, I shared the stories of Deborah from Judges 4:4-10 and Jael from Judges from 4:16-22. Love those strong women! And thanks, Mary Beth, for the photo.

Between teaching, walking, laughing, and talking, I didn’t have quite as much time to take photos as I’d hoped, but I slipped off to snag a shot whenever I could. Here’s a nearby courtyard featuring a brilliant splash of color.

Coming back down the mountain on a steep road full of switchbacks, we enjoyed another glorious view of the countryside. We found three basic hues in Israel. Tons of brown and tan, a vibrant blue sky, and occasional lush patches of green, thanks to irrigation or natural springs. Ah, but then there are the vineyards and the sprays of bougainvillea in deep pink or bright orange. Israel has a beauty all its own.

Back in our comfy motor coach, we headed south to Qumran, where the Dead Sea Scrolls were discovered in the late 1940s–nearly 900 of them in all, written on parchment or papyrus. We tramped around in the desert heat, checking out cisterns, ritual baths, and pottery kilns, with our water bottles in hand.

We continued south along the western edge of the Dead Sea until we came upon Lot’s Wife. Yes, she’s still there, wrapped in salt! How strange, to share her story from Genesis 19:15-38 while standing in the very area where it happened. They say you’ll never read your Bible the same way after touring the Holy Land, and I’m here to tell you, that’s a fact.

The sun was setting behind her salty self, turning the mountains of Moab across the Dead Sea a dusky purple, as we headed for our hotel. Turned out to be an over-the-top resort, with a dinner buffet that encompassed several different stations and untold points on Weight Waters. I fell into bed at nine o’clock, exhausted but happy, refusing to think about what I’d be forced to wear the next morning…

A beautiful way to begin our Sunday together, as we took turns reading Matthew 5:1-10, and considered the meaning of “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”

Then we imagined the Lord walking on the water, studying John 6:16-21, while we sailed in a boat called “Faith” on the Sea of Galilee. We sang, we laughed, we danced, we worshiped, and we marveled at the serenity of the water and the unspoiled scenery.

Next I shared the story of the feeding of the 5,000 from Matthew 14:15-23, near the hillside where the loaves and fishes were multiplied. There were teaching spots everywhere we went, ready for us to find seats and open God’s Word. When all of us reached the shores of the Galilee, a “Ta-da!” seemed the natural response.

Our hearts were already full to the brim, but the best was yet to come. We shared three lessons about Jesus as our Deliverer (Mark 1:21-28), our Healer (Matthew 8:14-17), and our Savior (Luke 7:36-50) among the synagogue ruins in Capernaum, where Jesus taught. I mean where he taught. It was almost more than this girl could handle.

And then I had the absolute joy of teaching Matthew 3:13-17 about the baptism of Jesus, before baptizing 21 precious women in the Jordan River, inviting them into the water singing, “O, Sisters, Let’s Go Down to the River and Pray.” Can’t imagine anything more glorious this side of heaven!

Back to the kibbutz we went, eager to see what the next day might hold…