In the gloaming after, we are bracing

It’s the gloaming after, but even though it’s quiet now, it isn’t peaceful.

We’re bracing.

Three people are dead. An entire neighborhood is gone. Children pulled from rubble in central Israel — not a war zone far away, but ten minutes from where my kids sleep part of the week.

I saw a photo of a police officer cradling a three-month-old baby in her arms. My eyes burn and the tears fall.

And this is with Iron Dome. With alerts and sirens. With one of the best armies in the world and police officers who run into danger to carry someone else’s baby to safety.

And yet…. This war with Iran? It was going to happen eventually. And I’m glad it’s now and not later .

Diplomacy with dictators is a sham.

Iran’s leaders aren’t misunderstood.

They’re not romantic revolutionaries. They’re not fighting for justice. They are brutal, fundamentalist theocrats who murder their own people for dancing in the street, for showing their hair, for loving who they love, for wanting basic rights. They execute gay people. They hang women. They beat teenagers to death and call it God’s will.

These are not the good guys.

And when they say they want to destroy Israel — and then build the means to do it — we should believe them.

I hate war. I hate every single missile that lights up the sky. But I’d rather be fighting this fight now than waiting until they’ve got nukes and think they can finish what they started.

And still. I think about the children in Gaza. The ones who don’t have sirens or shelters. The ones their own leaders abandoned, over and over again. The ones who have never known safety and who are paying the price for Hamas’ war — a war Israel didn’t want but can’t afford to lose.

None of this is okay.

No child – Israeli, Palestinian or Iranian – should fall asleep to the sound of air raid sirens or drones or rockets.

No parent should have to wonder if the bed is too close to the window. No one should be mapping out which wall might be safest during the next strike.

We’re not healing.

We’re holding our breath, again.

Because night is coming. And we all know what that might bring.