An Angry, Broken Heart

Today I watched a family whom I don’t know bury their two daughters while their mother/wife fights for her life. I spent much of the day crying, partly for their unimaginable pain and partly for the pain of the nation mourning with them.

One Part Anger

There is a part of me that is angry, so enraged that we continue this never-ending cycle when our people are butchered in the streets. Cry cry, weep weep, point fingers, get mad, then it’s yesterday’s news and we go back to worrying about the price of dairy and delayed package deliveries. That is, until it starts again.

When will our leaders grow a pair and make the tough choices that will keep Israel’s citizens safe? When will they stop prioritizing political correctness and leftist agendas to do what is right?

No other country on earth would put up with this garbage. I doubt I’ll ever understand why we do.

One Part Unity

Aside from the anger, there’s another part of me that senses a message from Above, the part that recognizes the implication of another pair of murdered siblings. It feels like a subtle nod to the recent protests that have pitted too many Israelis against each other. The Jewish People are all brothers and sisters, yet we’ve spent the last few months protesting all over the country in the names of democracy and justice.

But has it really been about that? Because it sure seems like the real reason is that a few million people got ticked off that a right-wing government was elected and started to fear things would change in ways they wouldn’t like. Hidden behind the curtain of judicial reform was (is?) old stereotypes about the religious population, which the media loves to tout as truth for clickbait, when the reality is often quite different.

Tell me, where are all the protestors now? Their silence speaks volumes.

Siblings murdered yet again. We’re supposed to be one united People, brothers and sisters living in the land of our ancestors. We’re supposed to love one another even when we disagree on some pretty serious issues. By no means is this an easy thing to do, but we have to try.

Regardless, when I send my children off to school or we drive as a family somewhere, I have to hope and pray – literally – that we all come home safely because I can’t trust that my country’s leaders and security forces will have my back. There is only One in whom I can trust.

May we all learn to have true Ahavat Yisrael, and may the memories of Rina and Maia and all of the recent terror victims serve as a blessing for all who knew them.