With the sirens blaring around the country, we gather for a quick review. If you hear a siren at home, go to the safe room – doesn’t every modern home have one of these? We do here. Take the phone, computer, the cat – and go. Stay for ten minutes after the sirens have ceased. Let people know you are ok.
After going over the rules with the kids who are home, I turn to the phone and reach out to those not here. Some of you will remember our two girls who are studying at an Israeli university in the south. Yep, they’re in range of Gazan missiles but they’re still in class. Can I call you back in an hour, the younger one asks. Who am I to disturb Statistics, or Arabic studies, to shlep her into a safe room if the sirens have subsided.
Our soldier boy isn’t always available to check in, so he can’t calm his mother’s fears right now. I can only trust our IDF to take care of them. And our son studying up north seems far away from the action, this time around. With Lebanon and Syria a stone’s throw away from him, we know how to identify where our threats originate – each time.
That’s the bus that was set on fire today by a targeted rocket from Gaza. The driver, while treated for trauma, can still barely speak but he, an Arab from a nearby Israeli town, told his doctor repeatedly – God loves you. God loves the Jews. The driver had just let fifty (!) IDF soldiers off his bus, turned around and took the direct missile hit. That lesson takes many forms, and numerous messengers. But we get it.
My friend Eekie has been reporting live from Sderot, the Israeli town closest to Gaza. While I get ready for bed, he gets ready for another long night, and a tomorrow with no school for the kids. I can only imagine those Sderot moms and dads and their concerns tonight. My friend Ari is responsible for an entire yeshiva, a group of young men combining their military service with Torah study – their learning continues under a protected roof even during these missile attacks. God bless them all.
Pray with us for a peaceful tomorrow, watch with us as the Israeli military does what it must to protect our innocent nation. And then, maybe one day, work with us to achieve real peace – “when they love their children more than they hate us” (Golda Meir).
Inshallah, and good night from these currently quiet Judean hills. Don’t forget to leave a comment, share this and tell your friends you know what it’s like.