Below them, the Sea of Galilee came into view.
Meltwater from Mount Hermon, along with dew that settled on the summer ground, flowed together into rivers that gathered first in this inland “sea.”
From here, the water became the Jordan River—sometimes rushing swiftly, sometimes winding gently—until it finally poured into the Sea of Salt (the Dead Sea), which lay four hundred meters below the level of the Great Sea.
They arrived at Capernaum, a town on the shore of the Sea of Galilee.
For a regional town, it was quite large, with many two-story houses.
Near the water stood a synagogue where people gathered, and the marketplace was full of life and noise.
In this “town by the sea,” Peter and Andrew’s father worked as a fisherman.
The Sea of Galilee was a rich fishing ground.
Dinah and Luke stayed one night at Peter’s house.
The next morning, they quickly found someone to help carry their belongings as far as Nazareth.
As they parted, Peter called out loudly,
“Say hello to the song-singer for us! He’s a good guy.
And Luke—if you ever come back this way, stop by my house again!
Take care!”
The road to Nazareth climbed uphill once more.
As they walked beneath the summer sun, Dinah spoke at length in Hebrew about her hometown and her parents.
“This journey turned out to be a hard one,” she said.
“Do you regret it?”
“Not at all,” Luke replied.
“I’m sure I’ll grow to love your country, Mom.
But just like I imagined, it really is the countryside—mountains everywhere.
So much green. There are animals and plants I’ve never seen before.
I’m looking forward to studying them and learning their names.”
“Your grandfather knows everything about this land,” Dinah said.
“I hope he’ll teach you.”
“Do you think Grandpa and Grandma will forgive us?” Luke asked softly.
Dinah pressed her lips together, then spoke with quiet strength.
“I must be forgiven….. It will be all right.
Jehovah is a God who forgives.”
The psalms Dinah trusted said this:
Jehovah is merciful and gracious,
slow to anger and rich in loyal love.
He does not keep finding fault forever,
nor does He hold on to His anger for all time.
(Psalm 103:8–10)
The next afternoon, Nazareth appeared before Dinah’s eyes—just as it had been long ago.
The winds of modernization blowing in from Rome had not yet reached this small town.
It was a quiet place, overflowing with green.
With familiar steps, Dinah headed toward a house at the foot of the eastern hill.
Luke followed behind, along with an elderly man leading the donkey that carried their luggage.
Along the way, Dinah spotted houses and faces she remembered, but to others they must have looked like strangers passing through.
No one called out to them.
The small stone house stood at the very end of the road that ran through the center of Nazareth.
It looked just as it had in her childhood.
In the yard, her father’s workshop—where he once made metal tools—and the animal shed still stood side by side.
Bathed in the afternoon summer sun, the country home was surrounded by deep, living green.
The sky above was a clear blue, without a single cloud.
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