Getting Used to the Siren?

After three sirens in the past seventy-two hours, the first two in the wee hours of the morning, leading to a stay in the bomb shelter followed by a sleepless night and zombified morning, I think I am finally getting used to sirens.

Yes, they still shake me up, but my hands dont shake, and my heart no longer pounds. For the third siren sent, we are told, from Gaza, that I didn’t even go into the shelter. Perhaps that was foolish, but it’s human nature.  To paraphrase an old Yiddish saying beloved by my late mother,” You get used to the tzuris (troubles), and you live in contentment.”

I haven’t determined the precise number of Israeli civilians killed due to   Hamas, Hizballah, Houti, or Iranian firepower, but the numbers are low. Indeed, each life lost is a tragedy, but considering that each attack can cause massive destruction and death that is extraordinary

What is going on?

We have the Iron Dome, David’s Sling, and now the US-engineered THAAD defense system Those keep us safe, right?.

Perhaps. But it took brains to develop those systems. How did those brains formulate those ideas? Synaspes? Natural Jewish genius?

Maybe it’s because our enemies are stupid. They shoot their missiles into empty spaces.

Really now? Empty areas?  Where?  Israel is not Wyoming. Our tiny country lacks unpopulated space.

So what is going on?

Hashem is watching us.  Hashem gave us the brains to create the Iron Dome, but it goes way beyond that.

Here are a few recent events that I would call miraculous: 1. Today’s interception before the missile could cause damage. Our very good security systems worked. That doesn’t always work. Look at how well our fancy high-tech fence protected us on Oct. 7.

2. Missiles landed on a school and a playground during the middle of the night when these places were empty. Was this our enemies’ daftness or a Guiding Hand protecting us? I vote for the latter.

It’s high time we recognized that our good luck isn’t random. Hashem has our back.

Next time the siren wails, –I hope and pray that there wont be a next time, I hate this as much as everyone else. I dont want to have a panic attack Nor do I plan to fritter away the moments in the shelter with small talk unless  I am providing emotional support.

These missiles come from heaven and are a sign to turn to heaven. Just as I do while I am on a shaky airplane, I  plan to take out my Psalter and pray.

Every moment can be prayerful, but those early morning Houthi wake-up calls are an opportunity to pull on the  “hut shell Hessed,” a Divine thread of kindness, to channel blessing whose light will illuminate the day that follows.

May our prayers be answered, and may we live here in the Holy Land in peace.