
The Galilee.
It had my heart the moment I traveled through it.
Green fields stretching out to sand-colored hills. Vivid pink and orange blossoms on bushes along the highways. The mountains of the Golan to the east, hazy in the distance. An expansive sky overhead.
And the Sea of Galilee with its remarkable waters.
What’s not to love about this land?

I pressed my phone against the bus window, videotaping each passing scene. I was enthralled. Because you not only see Israel with your eyes – you feel it with your heart. It’s mesmerizing.
Perhaps it’s the echo of history. Or because God Himself came down to earth in this place. Prophecy is alive there.
“There are only two ways to live your life.
One is as though nothing is a miracle.
The other is as if everything is.”
Albert Einstein
When I caught sight of the Sea of Galilee, tears trickled down my cheeks. Getting to walk the places where Jesus walked was my very own miracle. It was something I’d prayed years for.
And it felt like I was home.
It was real.

As I entered through the gate at Capernaum, my imagination lit on fire. I walked into the world of Jesus and his disciples with each step.
The Bible tells us in Matthew 4:13 – “and leaving Nazareth, He came and settled in Capernaum, which is by the sea, in the region of Zebulun and Naphtali.”
There, where travelers and caravans passed through on the trade route called Via Maris, He spoke in the synagogue. He healed many people, including his disciple Peter’s mother-in-law and the centurion’s servant. He ate, slept, walked and taught along the lake.
And He changed history.

I’m not sure what I expected, but approaching the fourth century “White Synagogue” was a singularly spectacular moment. I just wanted to sit quietly and take it all in. (A difficult thing to do while keeping up with a tour group)
I hesitated, and then while the others went on into the interior, I sat down on a stone step.
At the base of the structure behind me was the original first century black basalt stone foundation of the building believed to be the one Jesus actually taught in.

“They went into Capernaum; and immediately on the Sabbath He entered the synagogue and began to teach.” (Mark 1:21)
I remembered New Testament verses detailing events at this synagogue. And as I sat there, my heart so in love with Jesus, I wondered about Him.
History flowed through me.
What did He look like? Was His touch electric? Did the sound of His voice send a shiver through those listening as He read from the Torah? Would I have been in the throngs following Him?
I think I would have believed in Him because I believed in Him two thousand years later.
I reverently touched the black stone step beside me.
It was worn smooth.
Warm in the sun.
Real.

“These things He said in the synagogue as He taught in Capernaum.” (John 6:59)
One day after arriving back home, I sat showing my five-year-old granddaughter pictures of Capernaum and other sites I had visited around the Sea of Galilee.
She looked up into my eyes suddenly and in a startled voice asked, “So the stories are real?”
She had seen and heard the stories about Jesus through colorful illustrations in children’s books and on cartoon-like television programs. But seeing me in photos standing in the places where He actually lived was a moment of revelation for her.
“Yes, Honey. The stories are real.”
Two thousand years later the ruins of Capernaum have come alive for those who walk its streets. People look – and still find Him there. Do you believe the stories are real? There is nothing like seeing the Land in person to bring the Bible to life. Come – WALK IT OUT with me.