I made several promises to myself about things I planned to pursue after my husband John passed away. One of them - at the top of the list - was to learn the Hebrew language. I studied enough to learn the Aleph Bet twenty years ago when I went to live in Jerusalem for several months; but I had long forgotten most of what I learned back then.

My brain is probably operating a bit slower than it was twenty years ago, but I am feeling very blessed and encouraged to be hearing and speaking this ancient language again. In this morning's class I got a very special blessing! We were practicing sounding out Hebrew words, using the first group of letters that we had learned. We went around the room, reciting one word after another and when it was my turn I heard myself sounding out the word "zeba."  It gave me the chills. That was my grandmother's name, my mother's mother. I had never met her - she died just after giving birth to my mother.  When my mother passed away in 2014 I found a letter in a shoebox that was written by her father. He was describing, no doubt with tears, the train trip he was taking with his infant daughter (my mom) in his arms. The year was 1923 and Grandpa was a farmer in southeast Missouri, unable to keep and raise this little girl just born to him. His beautiful wife Zeba had died of meningitis and complications of child birth. He took his newborn daughter to his sister's where she and her husband agreed to raise her.  I shared this story with the dear friend and fellow student seated next to me. She got very curious, pulled out her cell phone and looked for the meaning of the name Zeba, and read to me what she found: "deprived of protection." I also found that the literal meaning of the word is "victim or sacrifice." It brought tears to my eyes as I pondered this meaning and how profoundly appropriate it seemed. 

I also reflected this morning on the six-month prayer watch I kept in Jerusalem in 2005 and how I became curious about what my grandmother's Hebrew name meant. I walked into the Old City one day and questioned two different vendors in the  market who spoke English. They both told me the meaning of the word was "wolf."  I remember how the Spirit seemed to quicken to me that day that it might just be revelation to me of what Hebrew tribe I'm descended from, since the banner of the tribe of Benjamin is a picture of a wolf!  Then amazingly, this thought was confirmed for me one night at the House of Prayer when a woman from Canada, together with her son, knocked on our big, heavy wooden door and asked for shelter from the cold rain. I invited them in and served them bowls of piping hot soup, still left from our dinner.  In between spoonfuls, the woman suddenly looked at me, pointed her spoon right at me, and pronounced "YOU are of the tribe of Benjamin!" As you can imagine, I was most startled! I am still in touch with that uniquely prophetic and kind woman today.

The Hebrew word for wolf is actually spoken as ze'ev. But as I dig anew into the deep ancient meanings of this language, I recall why I fell so in love with it and especially enjoy singing and worshiping in it. Many of us believe it will surely be the language spoken of in Zephaniah 3:9, which says, "For at that time I will change the speech of the peoples to a pure speech, that all of them may call  upon the name of the LORD and serve Him with one accord." It was, after all, God's original language throughout the Tanakh (Old Testament), so why would it not be the language He chooses to restore to us in His Everlasting Kingdom?  

It is a difficult language for many of us to learn since the letters are entirely different; so perhaps He will have mercy and give us an immediate "download" as soon as we are with Him!  But in the meantime, I pray that I can persevere and accomplish this goal I set for myself. This morning I not only found myself writing my grandmother's name in Hebrew, but also reading the words Israel, and Abba and Jerusalem (Yerushalayim) ​in Hebrew letters. Like the sound of the shofar, this is waking up my DNA and delighting my soul!

I saw a meme on social media this morning that made me laugh and then made me stop and think about it. I think it was a caricature of the old lady known as "Maxine" and she said:
"Some people try to turn back their odometers. Not me! I want people to know why I look this way. I've traveled a long way and SOME OF THE ROADS WEREN'T PAVED!"

This seemed appropriate for me right now as I've just made the decision to stop coloring my hair and let it be white - like my  mother's was. The unpaved roads were often bumpy and rough, sometimes even scary and hazardous. But I'm here - still here! I've parked my Ferrari in a nice little garage and at the Lord's leading I am taking a long Sabbath Rest. Slowly I'm beginning to see dawn breaking through the icy mist and God whispers to me, "You are still My beloved. That never changed. I have always been there, my daughter, over every bumpy road, on every tear-stained day, and through every shattered dream.  I am He,  I am He who will sustain you. I will sustain you and I will rescue you." (Isaiah 46:4)

I sit here and look at the magical, beautiful picture on the wall - John and I waltzing at our anointed wedding. I ponder, "Why did I want that wedding so badly? Why was it such a deep passion of my heart?" I finally, fully realize it now: it was me desiring You, Yeshua, to somehow be for me the dazzling Bridegroom in white. John's eyes, so filled with desire for me, were YOUR eyes. I had two women friends wash and anoint my body the night before the wedding - a traditional act of sanctification, being set apart to my husband. That was fourteen years ago this month; and fourteen years later that God-breathed marriage ended in such a very sad way.  As thrilling and glorious as that wedding was, the road became bumpy and rocky and very, very difficult. But John's ascension to the Father at the sound of the great shofar was glorious and the best part is that You, Yeshua, my Heavenly Bridegroom, are still with me. You made me and you will carry me. You sustain me and You will rescue me. And I believe that You are smiling right now - making Your face to shine on me, making Your eyes to twinkle because You yet have a plan for this weary old girl. I know it because you have spoken to me through your Word: 
 And even to your old age I am He; and even to gray hairs will I carry you! (Isa. 46:4)
The silver haired head is a crown of glory; if it is found in the way of righteousness. (Proverbs 16:31)

I don't wish to turn my odometer back either. I want people to know why I look this way. It is because I've traveled a long way and some of the roads weren't paved; but over all of those roads my Heavenly Bridegroom carried me, sustained me, rescued me.  I know He's doing it for you too!