These were the warm words I heard as I picked up the first phone call of the day on the morning after one of the best days of my life. The voice belonged to Mr. Jerry Adler at the Israeli Ministry of Tourism office here in Toronto and we were both pleasantly aware of the irony that this was no short-straw, arm-twisting assignment, but an opportunity for the pilgrimage of a lifetime. But I let the expression live on. December 8^th (the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception) has historically always been one of my favourite days; but this year, it has irreversibly secured its revered position in my life. On that day, I had just posted a blog about Advent and the Incarnation. My mind was preoccupied with Christmas and, for once, it was the true meaning of Christmas that had claimed my attention: Jesus. Jesus, who came (comes) to dwell among us. At about this time, my phone began to ring. I looked down to see “ROSICA” on the display. Within seconds I found myself standing in our C.E.O.’s office. “Jenna, have you ever been to the Holy Land?” Father Tom asked me casually. “I’d like to send you, if you are willing.” I accepted without a moment’s hesitation and then proceeded to stifle a joyful outburst of the unprofessional variety. (I saved that for moments later in the editing suite.) Being an East Coast girl, I have always had a strong appreciation for water and for everything that calls it to mind. Fishing boats, shanties, salt air and yes, even seagulls are all objects of affection for me. In light of this, my favourite scripture story has always been the nostalgic and hauntingly beautiful exchange between Peter and Jesus on the shores of the Sea of Galilee (Tiberias) after Our Lord’s Resurrection (John 21). In this story, I delight in the marriage of my two favourite things: the sea and breakfast. There is something so beautifully human about this story; it summons the artist in me to the surface. A purple-blue clear morning, the smell of smoke, cold stones under foot, the light lapping of the waves, Jesus’ pierced hands preparing the fire and the fish. He waits for his friends. If there were a morning paper, I feel like he’d be reading it. But then, we all know what the headlines would read: “It’s Empty?!?” Several years ago, I wrote the following poem in the attempt to feel closer to my favourite moment in Jesus’ life story.  At that time I called it “Breakfast in Galilee”:

Green of the countryside, Wind in the trees

Dew on the shoreline, Spring in the breeze

Friend of fishermen-who'd-come-undone

Source of sea's waves as swiftly they come

Washing and buffing our outermost shores

Where no power of man has ever before

Created, breathed life in the midst of the dead

And now Hope springs eternal- as so You have said

My eyes You have opened, on Your water I sputter

My mind You have cleared from the noise and the clutter

You call me to shore from the boat where I toil

Like Peter, I swim from my world to dry soil

I swim to You madly, my need for You grows

I want You to love me with the love that John knows

But yet I know firmly it is already mine

It is and it was from the dawn of all time

You catch all the fish and you give us the merit

You've purchased our souls that we may inherit

This intimate moment we share as fish fries

As dawn breaks above us in opal, crisp skies

This moment is ours on Tiberias' shore

This one, Beloved, and so many more

we’ve an eternity of chances to fix what was damaged

As we look to our brother, as thrice he did manage

To remind us all gently that yes, we shall fall

But faithfully, surely, You follow and call

You bid us to shore to share in your meal

Like Peter I swim, and like Peter I'm healed.

Stay tuned in to the S+L blog for the “Short Straw Chronicles” beginning this Sunday. I’ll be making my way around the land where Jesus walked and I’ll be taking you (and your intentions) with me. God bless you!