“Isn’t it dangerous for you to live in the West Bank right now?” asked the lady in the bright red sweater in the front row. As I traveled the country speaking about my work, everyone asked that same question. The issue of safety was a familiar wrestling partner of mine as I made my decision to move to the Middle East three years before. If the question were based only on the statistics of physical security, the answer would be “yes.” Because she was asking me personally, I had to say no. I knew that living in Jericho was the place for me.

In August 2004, the Bible verse Luke 24:49 began to speak to my heart – “tarry in the city (of Jerusalem) until you have been clothed with power from on high” I said to my friend, “I wonder what that means?”

“Why don’t you just do it?” she suggested.

My two-day stay in Jerusalem turned into a month. I met Karen Dunham who was speaking about her work in Jericho where she feeds, clothes and prays for the people. I wept from a seat in the back of the room. She shared story after story that brought goose bumps to my skin and tears to my eyes and I knew my tarrying time was over. Jericho was where I was supposed to be.

I learned that when World War II was over, the United Nations established the State of Israel. Many Jews went from Germany to what had been Palestine. The problem was it was not a vacant land. Three and a half million Palestinians were taken from their homes and moved across the river into the country of Jordan. Others were put into the 25 refugee camps established around Israel and the West Bank. The Jews were put into similar camps. However, having just come from concentration camps, they were very good at assimilating their own people into cities and kibbutzim. While there are Israeli Jewish communities in need today, the Jews no longer live in refugee camps, but the original 25 Palestinian camps are still there today - full of people wondering why they have been forgotten.

When I first got there, I didn’t like it. It was 118 degrees, my skin constantly itched because of bed bugs and I couldn’t talk to the people because we didn’t share a language. Basically, I just didn’t have a heart for the people. I had come to Israel wanting to help the Jewish people and learn about the Jewish roots of my Christian faith. Now in Jericho, I just wanted to pack my bag and run; but the story of Jonah came to mind. I didn’t want to end up in the belly of a whale! I stayed. I asked God for a heart for the Palestinian people and He gave it to me. In the midst of seeing God so clearly at work in my own heart, and in the hearts of the people around me, I didn’t want go anywhere else.

In dire need, the people are taking drastic actions. I believe that if we help to meet the basic needs of the people, they may make different decisions. If I were a mother of ten starving children, there isn’t much I wouldn’t do to feed my kids. That is no exaggeration of the people in these refugee camps who have often become the tools of terrorism. If I was in their shoes and heard that I could offer up one of my children as a martyr who went straight to paradise and then I would receive money to care for the rest of my family – with no other alternatives – I might be tempted. However, if I had my basic needs met in another way, I can’t imagine considering such a preposterous idea.

In Matthew 25: 35-6, Jesus asks us to feed the hungry, clothe the naked and take care of the sick. In Jericho, we provided whatever we had available to those who rang our door bell. Sometimes, we had big bags filled with vegetables, milk and beans; but we always had rice. We usually had clothes donated by those who had come to visit us from both near and far. One time, we were able to provide wheel chairs for two men who had been carried their whole lives. 1500 baby blankets were knit and donated to us by Israeli women so we could share them with the women in the hospital delivering babies.

After having been there for a while, I began receiving emails from adventure-seeking friends who said, “I’m coming for a visit!” I would say, “Did you ask God?” because I also believe that you don’t want to be in that land right now if it isn’t His will. It is the West Bank. We see many things happening here around us that aren’t shown on the evening news, but the footage on TV is real. Jericho is the least dangerous of the cities in the West Bank, but we have experienced persecution. Jesus told us we would.

One night, a tire was lit on fire outside the front door. The heat blew the glass out of the barred windows and the smoke rushed up the stairwell. My co-workers ran the hose over the balcony and put the fire out. The next morning, as one of them waited for the repairman to come and fix the window, she kept hearing the people pass by the house exclaiming, “Mojud Yeshua!!” She wrote the words down and later asked some of the guys who worked for us to interpret them. “The Spirit of Jesus,” they replied. The people were passing by the church and sensing the Spirit of Jesus out on the street! We thought they broke in. Maybe Jesus broke out?

I know that it was God asking me to move to the West Bank so, for me, it felt dangerous to be anywhere else. I have found that being in the center of His will is sometimes like being in the eye of the storm - things happening all around, but an incredible peace within. Moving to the West Bank was not my idea or what I wanted to do. I couldn’t say I was ‘protected’ from death or danger - that was a possibility. Still, there was no doubt in my mind, I had to be there. It was dangerous for me not to be.