Things have heated up in the north.
Thank Gd, our family is just fine.
Our community is just fine.
There has not been any direct rocket or drone activity in our particular community at this time.
Tfu-tfu.
The same cannot be said for our neighbors and friends.
Keep in mind that mine is a narrow, personal perspective. I am writing from a place of privilege, from the living room of my home, not my bomb shelter. I have wifi and food in the fridge. None of my immediate family members are on active combat duty or held hostage.
Privileged.
Also…
We have been in a heightened state of emergency for the past week.
There are four basic levels of emergency, green, yellow, orange, and red. We are in orange, which means that our activity is limited. All schools are closed. Gatherings are limited, sometimes travel is limited, and we are instructed to stay close to shelter.
On a sensory level, that means that it can get pretty loud; lots of boom-boom-pow.
When missiles land it sounds (and feels) like a giant stomping on the earth.
It makes the windows shake sometimes.
When a missile is intercepted, there’s a very loud cracking sound, accompanied by a flash of light in the sky and streaks of clouds around it.
Often fires break out after a missile or drone lands or is intercepted mid-air.
So the smell of smoke and the threat of wild fire is also a feature.
There is a lot of air activity from our Air Force. Thank Gd.
Go with Gd.
Be successful in your mission.
Give ‘em hell.
Show ‘em where you live.
All things I whisper heavenward while I blow a kiss to our fighter jets as they shoot through the sky.
We’re hammering Hezbollah terrorists in Lebanon (finally) and they’re revving up all their activity – it’s not really that different from what has been happening here this whole year, it’s just… more.
On an emotional level, strange as it might sound, there is relief in this escalation, because after nearly a full year of waiting for the “right time,” it seems we are finally in a position to do more than just take it.
To see our intelligence in action: targeted assassinations, the pagers and walkie-talkie operations, and the undoing of upper ranks of the Radwan forces is a huge morale boost; an infusion of faith to emotionally dehydrated people. This clear demonstration of fighting back and hitting hard on the Northern Fronts is a reminder of who we are: The Lions of Judea.
So when I hear them roar across the sky, I am filled with a sense of strength and hope. Pride and prayer.
We still have 60,000 plus residents of the Golan and Galilee who cannot yet return to their homes because it is too dangerous. So, the fact that things are revving up here and we’re finally delivering some hard offensive blows gives hope, that we are moving closer toward getting our people back home where they belong.
Of course, there’s also the awareness that escalation is a two-to-tango kind of a thing, but there’s not a darn thing I can do to control that.
So, I just stay in my lane and try to do my part.
I pray for the safety and well-being of our soldiers.
May Gd bless them in every inch of heaven and earth they protect and defend.
Pray for our loved ones, our people.
I pause more often and feel truly gratitude for the simple blessings of our life.
Family dinner.
Ripe pomegranates on our tree.
The dogs.
Local honey.
Pre-Rosh Hashanah blessings.
A full tank of gas.
A hot cup of coffee in bed.
My neighbor’s daily shofar blowing.
Yes, war is an ever-present feature in our lives.
So are our blessings.
I try to focus on those.
And thank Gd for the safety, good health, and good fortune that affords me the possibility to celebrate them from time to time.
Like the wise Rebbetzen Joplin once said, “Honey, get it while you can.”
We are as prepared as we can be.
We are clear about the importance of us being here.
We are strong, resilient, faithful.
We are ready.
Thank you all for your thoughts, care, and concern.
Your loving messages letting me know you’re thinking of us mean so much to me.
It helps me feel lifted and supported.
I love you.