It’s been a whole week since this war landed on our front porch. 

A week of shock.
Tragedy.
Resilience.
Kindness.
Terror.
Regrouping.
Uncertainty.
Unity.
A week of healing. 

It’s a lot to contain. 

So, shabbat was well timed. 

Putting the breaks on news, phone calls, and check-ins was a welcome break. 

I took Harley for a walk after I lit my shabbat candles and marveled at the sky as it released pink to red, red to purple, purple to night.

A friend of ours who’s husband is serving in reserve duty and her kids came over for Friday night dinner. It was so nice to break bread with friends, drink a little wine, and just hang out and laugh. The food came out extra yummy, Shahar opened the perfect bottle of wine and the glow of the shabbat candles added their magic. We had a really good time. It was a celebration of life – and it felt good. 

We each shared a single word that we wished for the people of Israel.

Bravery.
Security.
Redemption.
Strength.
Faith.
Victory.

To name a few…

I went to bed with a full belly and heart. Feeling grateful to be alive. Thankful that we made it to this day of rest. 

I woke up breathless sometime after 2:00 a.m. after an extremely vivid and horrifying nightmare. I was able to calm myself down reasonably quickly and shake off the images my brain had pieced together from all the stories it had been exposed to over the week. I steadied my breath as I listened to the planes rumble across the sky and the dogs howl in the distance. Eventually, I fell back asleep and awoke to chirping birds (always a good sign). 

That’s just the way it goes. Thoughts and feelings just show up, and you have to just move through them. 

It’s Saturday night now, a bit before 10:00 p.m. I hear a flurry of friendly fire – gunshots and tank fire from our soldiers practicing in an army-zoned field nearby. These are sounds we’ve gotten used to over the years living here in the Golan. I’m not sure I can explain it, but I know what “normal-practice” gunfire and tank fire sounds like. I can recognize when the sound of artillery is out of the ordinary. Call it a gift. Honestly, right now, this sound is more of a comfort than anything else. It means we’re armed, it means we’re ready.

Sending love and blessings to us all for a good, safe, and blessed week.