Published on Tue, 03/06/2012 - 13:35 by Madelyn Miles
We recently celebrated with joy and tears the service of our beloved sister and coworker: Stephanie Ventura. After nearly a year of living and working at Shevet Achim, the day came that she needed to return to her home in California. Now, we always write a farewell blog for our children when they leave, but it is rare that our hardworking volunteers receive the same honor. I hope that by writing this blog, anyone who doesn't know Stephanie can understand the level of dedication and love she poured out here.
Published on Mon, 12/26/2011 - 17:08 by Ryan Gregg
This is a photo essay of a weekend that five Shevet volunteers spent together this December in the desert - Micha, Caroline, Kristina, Stephanie, and myself, Ryan.
We were in Makhtesh Ramon in the arid south of the country, and had three brilliant days. We'll let the pictures do the talking.
Published on Sun, 10/30/2011 - 22:27 by Sally Morton
Today, Ruth and I met Ayman’s grandfather from Gaza, who was sitting together with a Jewish lady from Tel Aviv. What inspired us so much was seeing the two of them chatting together like old friends. In fact, they have known each other for just nine days, united in their concern for their grandchildren, and also in their enjoyment of just being able to share so freely about their experiences as loving grandparents. What we witnessed was a living out of the verse from Psalm 133, “How good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell together in unity … for there the Lord bestows His blessing, eve
Published on Sun, 10/30/2011 - 18:02 by Michelle Miles
Every month the Shevet community takes a day out of the office for field tripping. This month we traveled north to the historically-rich coastal town of Caesarea. There we learned about King Herod’s building extravagances and charismatic vision, as evidenced by the remains of his ‘floating’ palace--complete with built-in freshwater pool next to the sea.
Published on Sun, 10/16/2011 - 23:38 by Ryan Gregg
My friend and I were hunched over early morning Starbucks in suburban Seattle, talking. It had been many moons since we had seen each other, and we were catching up. I was recounting the ups and downs of living overseas, of Jerusalem and the Middle East experience. Suddenly she cut me off, and with clarity in her eye said to me: “You know Ryan, God is a God of the tabernacle, not a God of the cathedral. He is not stationary, but moves with us through the wildernesses.”
