Welling Up at the Wailing Wall

Interesting things are happening to me during my stay here. You hear about people getting overwhelmed by being in the Holy Land or getting caught up in everything, but I never thought that that would be me. I'm German. I'm Lutheran. I don't have emotions. This has happened to me twice in two days now and I thought you guys would like to hear about it.

1. Tonight at the Western Wall:
I went with some friends tonight to celebrate Rosh Hashanah at the Western Wall. My friend Brit and I kept our distance, but pretty soon we wanted to go into the women's section. So we went. I found myself slowly drifting toward the Wall. I had no intention of getting near it b/c I didn't want to interrupt any of the praying that was going on with all of the Jewish women. However, within about 5 minutes of entering the women's section, there I was...my forehead and palms laying on the wall. I just began to cry. The idea of this being a part of the temple or existing during that time, paired with the overwhelming thought of centuries of Jews praying and lamenting the loss of their temple got to me. I lost it. Hearing the Psalms in Hebrew and thinking about all of these things completely overwhelmed me!

2. Yesterday at the Church of the Nativity:
OK. I'm with you on this. Was this REALLY the place where Jesus was born? Probably not. Even as I was walking into the Church of the Nativity, I could feel my eyes rolling watching all of these women, with their heads covered, crying as they entered the church. I passed by a sign that said, "The Church of the Nativity. The first evidence of a cave here being venerated as Christ's birthplace is in the writings of St. Justin Martyr around AD 160. In 326, the Roman emperor Constantine ordered a church be built and in about 530 it was rebuilt by Justinian."

"Huh." I thought. "Even if this isn't the REAL birthplace of Jesus, that's really impressive. That's 2,000 years of people coming to this specific place and praying." As you're walking through, you begin to be taken over. That incense smell that is old and stale and yet the most beautiful smell in the world. The Chanting. The architecture and beautiful paintings and mosaics that have been around for thousands of years.

Then I followed the hundreds of people into the smallest hole imaginable. Sweating and cramped I finally saw it. A little silver star in a marble floor. The woman ahead of me begins to weep and pray. Touching and kissing the floor and tapestries all around the Grotto. Then it's my turn. I just thought it would be cool to touch it. For 2 thousand years people have touched this place and now it's my turn. So I touch it...and cry. I'm completely overwhelmed by the whole experience.

Who knows if this will keep happening, but so far I seem uncontrollable. I wonder what will happen next.