The Blessing and Mishkha are Inseperable
August 4, 2026
MISHKHA part two of three
God has subtly stretched the tent pegs of Comfort My People since October 7 to make room for a broader vision, which includes you, a follower of Jesus the Messiah. Our focus continues to be on supporting our partners’ efforts—whom we consider family—but also to help Christians understand that a healthy relationship with Israel is vital for the Church and for our nation.
Mishkha is probably not a word you use every day. It requires an explanation rather than a translation, because it cannot be easily defined in English.
There is another term that is intricately woven with mishkha that is very familiar. I imagine you use it often. It is the “blessing.” The blessing is irrefutable—everyone wants to be blessed.
In Hebrew to bless someone literally means to bow down. It is humbling. Blessing always causes good outcomes. It specifically means “treaty of peace,” but it implies that God is the source of blessing. The first mention of blessing is in Genesis 12, when God told Abraham He would bless him and make him a blessing to all the families of the earth. To implement and spread it accordingly, God told Abraham that this blessing and calling would become his heirs to continue, specifically through Isaac, Jacob, his 12 sons, and their descendants forever.
How’s that working out so far?
Not so good.
Why? The blessing must be activated by the anointing, or mishkhah. It’s like having a car, but not the key. The Old Testament bears witness that man must be born again. Jesus did not come to earth to be our hero, but to empower willing people to do His will.
I will attempt to explain this so you will see that the mishkha vision is not our own. But together we can implement it because it is according to His eternal purpose. (Ephesians 3:11)
Does that interest you?
That is why I am going to make this personal, for the sake of Israel—yes—but just as much for the Church—for you. I want you to know how this evolved because I am hoping you will be led to participate.
As you read, please pray that God will give you understanding in spite of my limitations and enemy distraction.
We Jews have been around for about 4,000 years. I say we because I am a descendant of the sons of Jacob. Some would say that’s not true because I embraced Jesus as my Jewish Messiah, which to them means I am no longer a Jew. However, I lean on the wisdom of Solomon who asked the naysayers in his day;
“Can a leopard remove its spots, or an Ethiopian the color of his skin?’
Neither can I alter my DNA just because my belief system has changed. In fact, after 45 years of following Jesus as my Shepherd, I feel more Jewish than the day I became Bar Mitzvah.
The first time I came to Israel was with my wife, Marla. As a midwife she accepted an invitation to accompany an Israeli doctor on her flight back home. She was in her eighth month of pregnancy and working in an American hospital. Her plan was to have her baby in Israel. She wanted professional assurance in case she went into labor. I just came along for the ride—plus she paid for it!
It was 2004 during an intifada. A week earlier a Palestinian suicide bomber traveled by bus to Jerusalem and detonated a bomb strapped around his waist. Eleven civilians were killed and 50 wounded. Our friend, in whose house we stayed, was on that same bus route a week earlier to go to work. During that time, three other buses were bombed along with several restaurants. The civilian death toll was in the hundreds before the year was over, yet no end was in sight.
It wasn’t until months later that Israel forcefully evacuated its citizens from their homes and businesses in Gaza in exchange for a peace agreement made by Prime Minister Ariel Sharon and the Palestinian Authority. It horrified the Israelis living there.
Once evicted, the Gazan Palestinians could have inherited the Jewish companies, shops and even synagogues. Instead, they set them on fire. A few months later Sharon went into a coma which lasted for eight years, before he died.
Land for peace never worked and it never will.
Marla and I were uninformed of all that was going on around us before we arrived. Oddly no one discussed the issues the nation was facing. We traveled the Land as if there was nothing to worry about. After we returned to the States I was shocked to discover their current affairs and embarrassed by my ignorance.
One day the two of us were on our way to the Dead Sea in our rented car. We had no GPS in those days, so we relied on others to give directions. Unfortunately, there was major construction on our route and a sign that normally stood before a fork in the road was down. I assumed we were to go left so we did. As we drove, I noticed the street signs that had been written in three languages was now in only two. Neither one was in English. Fortunately, I can read Hebrew, but it was too late.
We came to a checkpoint at the entrance of Ramallah, the home of Yassar Arafat and a breeding ground for terrorism. I pulled over to the side of the road. Then I noticed a group of young men gazing intently at us on my right and an Israeli soldier on my left with a machine gun strapped over his shoulder. I knew I had to turn around but that meant our car would be facing the soldier. I also knew getting out of the car was not an option. Then out of seemingly nowhere an Arab man wearing a suit was standing next to Marla’s door and motioned her to open the window. She did and he gently told us what we already knew;
“You are lost,” he said.
“Make a U-turn and drive away without stopping.”
He spoke so calmly and assuredly that I listened without questioning. The soldier did not turn his head and we drove away. I felt like it was the first time I breathed since we pulled over.
The next morning, I asked our host if he could take us to a bakery to get some treats for breakfast, especially for the kids. The small shopping center was around the corner but before we entered the parking lot we stopped for a soldier, who stood at the entrance. He too was strapped with a machine gun. He checked us out and made sure we weren’t a threat or harboring one. It was a non-issue to our new friend, but to me it was another adventure that drove my adrenaline up. I began to understand that Israelis were a different breed. They were unwilling to exchange what they came to accept as normal, for fear or anger.
After we returned our rental, we got a ride to the airport from a young man. He was a 19 year old soldier on a short leave. I thanked him for his service to his country but also for defending ours. I told him the enemies they face would be on our shores, but he was preventing that from happening. He smiled and said,
“We have no choice, when we turn 18 it is our turn to protect our nation.”
I said, “Yes, but you obeyed, and I honor that.”
He smiled again and thanked me. I never forgot him. Since then, I have been to Israel many times and whenever I see a soldier in my path I try to thank him or her as I did with our driver. They all say almost the same thing. It is a common thread.
When we flew out of Israel, I realized something unexpected took place. My heart and mind became knitted to the people and the place. I had no idea that nine years later, I would be asked to begin ministry in Israel.
God gave us the name, Comfort My People and we soon understood why. For 19 centuries, the Jewish people were evicted from almost all the nations to which they fled in what was known as Christian Europe. On the day Israel declared her independence from British rule, five surrounding Islamic nations invaded her—promising to drive her into the Sea within 24 hours.
Almost every Israeli has served as a soldier in some capacity. Because of multiple wars and constant skirmishes, they have become acquainted with grief since their inception. They know they are hated, but don’t know why.
This is the history of our partners.
They are spirit-filled believers who serve with integrity and intention to bring the love of Yeshua into the lives of their people. I admire their resilience, yet keenly aware of the realization that it’s not only their neighbors who despise them. Jewish hatred is steadily spreading across the globe. The question that looms over them (us) is;
“When is the next time they will come for us?”
The sense of perpetual hatred and endless war is a heavy weight to carry and burden to grow up with. It is unexplainable in rational terms, and it seems there is no solution to this ancient enmity.
I refuse to accept that, because it is not biblical. I hope you do as well.
Next time we will unpack God’s solution.
Shalom,
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