We interrupt this program...

I never got around to writing about my family's time in Jerusalem...and then a war started. I suppose in the Middle East that is always a distinct possibility. I'll try to make up some ground, though much of what you read here will be familiar to those who have been reading my Facebook updates. 

It seems like ages ago that my family was walking the streets of Jerusalem. It was, in fact, less than two months ago. 

 

Our adventures included a hike of Ein Bokek, a spring near the Dead Sea,

 

 

and also, the Dead Sea itself where the water temperature was over 90 degrees and the air temperature 113F. There was no relief and I nearly suffered a heat stroke. Dead Sea in August, never again.

 

Obviously, my mom had a blast. 

 

 

Danny gave tours of different parts of the Old City including the Via Dolorosa, the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, the Western Wall Plaza, and the market streets. If you have been having a hard time finding the perfect shofar or a kippah with Trump's face on it, we know a guy.

 

Hopefully one day you can walk the streets of Jerusalem with us and you can meet Hashem.

 

 

On the first weekend in October, Dominic celebrated his 17th birthday. Before he went to work that day, Danny made us all pancakes in Dominic's name. Literally. 

 

When Danny came home from work, we opened presents on our bed (a family tradition that I didn't realize was a tradition until this day, when the kids insisted that it was.) And then we went to Sacher Park before the sun went down. While we were there, Noemie lost a gold anklet that my grandfather had given me. (Or maybe he gave it to Amy and I stole it. The details are fuzzy. All I know is that it was an heirloom, it was valuable, and I was heartbroken.) Now Sacher Park isn't any old park. It is the biggest park in Jerusalem. It includes a huge sprawling complex of climbing nets, rope bridges, tubes, and metal tube slides of alarming heights, the sort of thing that would never be built in the United States today.

 

 

 

 

So when we got home and the discovery was made that the anklet was missing, we did not have much hope for its recovery. Except for me. I always have hope. Noemie and I were both praying under our breaths that it would show up somehow, but afraid to pray out loud lest God would seem unfaithful should He not answer us as we prayed. I timidly suggested to my realist husband that he go back to look... a proposition so ludicrous that it was almost just as absurd that he would agree. He was too kind to be honest. He asked if maybe we should wait till morning. I was hesitant to press my luck... I can't handle suspense and I didn't want to spend the whole night thinking about it. I just wanted to know whether to keep holding out hope. Danny acquiesced. Noemie and Gigi changed out of their pajamas, grabbed a flashlight, and went out. After 20 minutes of fruitless searching, Danny was calling them back to go to the car when he saw something reflective in the distance, not at all shaped like a chain. He mentioned it to Noemie and she ran off to investigate while he and Gigi turned towards the parking lot. It wasn't the anklet, but as she was walking back, she glanced towards the spot in the ground where a climbing net support chain was anchored to the ground and there, pooled in a little cup made by the post's envelopment in the rubber flooring, was the lost treasure, safely hidden. An hour after they left, they returned, holding the golden chain, clasp broken, in hand.

 

We woke up early the next morning to the sounds of rocket sirens, the "boom" of interceptor Iron Dome rockets being deployed, and the rumblings of fighter jets flying over our heads. My family in Florida and New York were sleeping peacefully and I was texting the family chat: We're being attacked... Please pray! No response. But we prayed.

We prayed for the speedy containment of terrorist militias. For the safety of the more than one-hundred civilian hostages who had been taken into Gaza. For the protection of the Israeli Defense Forces. That Israel would have more rocket interceptors than Gaza had rockets. That other countries and terrorist organizations would not jump in to intensify the situation. For the many men and women from our church who were called up for military service. That my nerves would stay intact.

Three days later I was able to give the following praise report:

Since the time that the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) started their air strikes on Gaza, we have not had the rockets over Jerusalem. They are continuing to launch rockets in the areas around Gaza and in the direction of Tel Aviv but the range appears to have been reduced, and the number of hits (escaping the Iron Dome interceptor system) I think have also been reduced.
IDF airstrikes hit over 800 targets yesterday. These are specific points to neutralize Hamas (Gaza terrorists) operations. Many Palestinians have fled to UN shelters, which is good. The targeted and careful nature of the IDF response is such that the body count for Israelis (where terrorists take out civilians and military without discretion) remains higher than that of Palestinian casualties resulting from the air strikes. We hear the Israeli jets going back and forth all night. I had my first good night's sleep in days last night. Danny says I've gotten used to the noises. I wonder if maybe I learned to think of the sound of jets as protection rather than danger.

The kids are doing pretty well. They don't see what we see. (Danny sees everything in real time because of his work.) It's a hard balance to know how much to tell them. Gigi became very close to a German family here during a youth camp this summer. The mom was Gigi's counselor and the daughter, Hannah, became Gigi's best friend. Their community was infiltrated by several attackers last night and there were shootings. The IDF was on it and the threat was neutralized quickly. I was a nervous wreck for about an hour but I praise God they are safe. For now.

Our area had been quiet since Monday, allowing Danny and I to go out and buy some fruit at the store in the morning. But within 10 minutes of my facebook post, sirens were going off and we were back in our bunker monitoring another barrage of rockets aimed at Jerusalem. One made contact a few miles from our neighborhood with some fatalities, and another hit a mosque to the north west, closer to Tel Aviv. Our bunker is located under our stairs, inside of our basement. It's a room about the size of a large pantry. The littles would play card games, the older ones would read books, and Danny and I would stare at our phone notifications, all of us on the floor. After the sirens would stop we had to wait 10 minutes and then we could go out and resume our day. We were not to go far from our homes. Schools and many businesses were closed. Danny was working from home, on call around the clock. I was receiving texts from 30-40 different people per day, messages from people from every part of my past. Some of these were people we hadn't spoken to in ten, even twenty years. Some of them were the mothers of people I hadn't spoken to in twenty years! Often their most immediate concern was, "Are you safe?" The answer was and still is, "For now." There are people here who live in immediate, credible danger. At the moment, we are not one of them. Responding to texts was taking hours of my day. HOURS. Hours that were helpful to me in that I benefited from the love and prayers and encouragement, but it was also overwhelming. And my kids were missing me. 

 

On Thursday, Danny came home from work and we were discussing all the technicalities of departure possibilities. It was while we were having this discussion when we suddenly got alerts of a bombardment of thousands of rockets coming down from Lebanon past Haifa and all the way across to south of Galilee. My heart nearly stopped and I thought, "This is it. This is how it ends." Except it turned out that it wasn’t true. It was a false alarm-- perhaps drones or an enemy aircraft cruising around setting off sensors. Or maybe even someone pushed a wrong button! I’d hate to be that guy that who just sent a nation into panic!

At present, the wall around Gaza has been repaired, allowing for controlled movements in and out of the area. Yet Gaza, as destroyed as it is from the Israeli air raids, is still managing to shoot rockets day and night. We don’t hear the jets as often, but we do still hear the deep bass thumps of the Iron Dome going off far off in the distance periodically. The other great tragedy that has been unfolding is that Hamas has now put the civilian population in Gaza in its own hostage situation as it continues to attack Israel and incite other Palestinians to rise in arms. Militants are not the only ones who live in Gaza. Another humanitarian crisis is happening on the other side of the wall. 

 

A rocket hit inside the airport on Tuesday and the planes never stopped coming and going. This is the Israeli way. Israelis are hard core. 

 

In spite of the fact that most other foreign missions have evacuated their personnel, and American airline carriers have discontinued service to the country, our mission does not believe that we are in imminent danger at the moment and they’re pretty clear on that point. And we can more or less sense this from our house. But it’s also true that there is tension within the country. Anger and fear have boiled over into random acts of violence against Palestinians, and protests and some American flag burning in Arab dominant areas. There have been fatal shootings as armed individuals have tried to take out officers at the checkpoints that control entry into various parts of the country. At night it gets worse, where clashes with Israeli police might include attacks with fireworks or Molotov cocktails and often results in a handful of deaths, usually Palestinian. The body count continues. And subsequently we are told to stay close to home. Not that you'd have to ask me twice...

 

Our kids are ok. Dominic cracks bad jokes as a coping mechanism which embarrasses Noemie who takes her stress out by baking, doing P90X exercise videos, and playing the piano. Tovi and Gigi are, as always, best friends and worst enemies, annoying each other like a never-ending episode of Tom and Jerry. 

 

I am so thankful for the constant reminders that we are being prayed for. It’s the most helpful, powerful, loving thing that can be done for us right now and I am so, so grateful. Sometimes people send the actual words of the prayers that they are praying over us.  The answer to the question, “How are you doing?” changes often. Praise God, my reply is “hopeful” or “peaceful” more often than not. There have been a few times when I will sink into a low or a moment of panic, but the mindfulness of others has been so constant, that within minutes, someone will text me to check in and I have immediate access to comfort and encouragement. I have the best friends and family in the world. I have brothers and sisters in Christ in Washington, Oregon, Japan and Germany who are reaching out when I wake up, and friends in the eastern U.S. that sustain me through the afternoon and into the evening. Before we left Florida the children in our church kids ministry made us farewell cards. The kids and I have taken these and written on them the Bible verses that have been sent to us as well. One has the lyrics to a hymn, and one simply the reminder to breathe deeply. We have made a garland of hope and truth.

 

*****

One day, back when Danny and I were best friends in high school, he came with me to downtown Miami--just the two of us taking the Metro Rail to a museum so I could get a project done for school. While we were in the rail car, I found a dime on a seat which I picked up and stuck in my pocket. Another night a little while later, maybe a few weeks or a few months later, we found a dime in the church parking lot. And I put it in my pocket. And then it happened again. And again. This continued even after we got married- a dime in the otherwise empty cargo hold of our moving van to Tallahassee. Not pennies, not nickles... always dimes. It became an inside joke between us. Between us and God. At the risk of sounding superstitious, we started to associate finding dimes with a reminder that God was with us, aware of us, a part of our lives. The night that Noemie found the anklet she told me the story from her point of view. Danny mentioned to her that there was something reflective a bit off in the distance. But he was done and he was going to go back to the car. Noemie thought he was telling her to go investigate the reflective item. Noemie ran off to take a look. It wasn't the chain... it was a 10 shekel coin. And then she saw the chain. I think God knew that in the days ahead we were going to need that reminder. Every hour. God is with us, aware of us, a part of our lives. Even in Israel.