Tents of Mercy Congregation
Kiryat Yam, Israel
Lada and Fyodor stood in their newly renovated kitchen and told us how hard they have been working on this, their new home. It sits on a generous plot of land, on a street neighboring the congregational building. They bought the house as an investment before the war started. Despite the incongruence of forever-home renovations and wartime desperation and insecurity, they are doing their best, indeed like we all are, to forge forward with life.
Thanks to the ceasefire, we were finally able to visit and see the progress they have made. We “oohed and awed” over the fresh feel of the house and over the extensive sunbathed patio and garden area that Fyodor has been tirelessly improving. Updating us on the state of each of their children, we were surprised to hear that one of the daughters was considering a move to another country. “How could you bear to see her move abroad?” we asked them, and then discussed the pros and cons of being in Israel or elsewhere. These included: financial ease and quality of material life, versus: security, belonging and protection from growing anti-Semitism in the world.
In the weeks since the ceasefire, we have easily and thankfully adjusted to life without sirens, though the war has taken its toll in so many ways. Loud booms and shrill sounds like a motorcycle driving by, still make us jump. But, sitting and drinking tea with the sun shining in through the window, the war seemed far away. Then as we left, complimenting them again on the great yard, Lada, as a casual afterthought, showed us a collection of shrapnel saying, “These are the missile pieces that fell in our yard.” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, and I felt that odd, familiar gnawing in my belly.
On their return from their “after army trip” a few of our young people flew back from East Asia through Dubai. With all the chaos and political instability, with anti-Semitic/terrorist attacks around the world, and the kidnapping and murder of a Chabad rabbi in Dubai, we were nervous. Israel has warned its citizens to avoid travel to certain countries right now, and to use discretion when speaking Hebrew in public and displaying Israeli and Jewish symbols.
Everything went smoothly until the last passport check. One girl passed through the digital check station smoothly, but when the digital check didn’t work for the second girl for some reason; and she had to approach the manual checkpoint, they apprehended her. Holding her passport, they asked accusingly, “You are from Israel?!” After what seemed like forever the immigration clerk frowned and took the passport to his superior, “He will deal with you.” For a moment it seemed like things might take a turn for the worse, her only crime – an Israeli passport. Thankfully, even as her parents were praying, the superior shortly returned her passport and begrudgingly wished her a good flight.
Freedom and Security are not taken lightly these days. We are hyper aware that the situation can change within a moment. The last year has brought new meaning to the word “volatile,” causing some of us to check the news even when we wake in the middle of the night to see what dramatic event may have happened while we were sleeping.
Over a cup of coffee at the congregational coffee house on a recent weekday evening, a few of us women sat together to talk and pray. Each one shared where she is at and how the war and ceasefire has affected her. Each one had a story to tell – five women from five different countries: how she came to faith, what are her current struggles and blessings, and how she is coping with the situation. One shared how a rocket had hit right in the park where she takes her grandchildren to play. Another told of a rocket falling just meters from the apartment where she was with her mother. It could have been a heavy and depressing conversation, but we were laughing and grateful for the miraculous protection we have each seen; and for how the difficulty has opened up opportunities for each one to share the love of God with people in their path.
On the news that evening a video from one of the kidnapped hostages had been released and they showed his mother’s emotional response to the video. Anyone watching could not stay dry-eyed. I thought back to the prayers we had prayed – simple, desperate, un-eloquent prayers – for our families, for our country, for the hostages. With so much to be thankful for, and yet so many unsolved problems, our human souls faint at the tangled web of trouble we see in our country and in the world. It feels like an impossible scenario – regular mundane life goes on and must go on – the sun rises and sets and time passes bringing us into a new calendar year, but our hostages remain frozen in time, frozen on that fateful October day.
As the ocean is full of waves that return again and again to the shore without tiring, God’s faithfulness will yet prevail. His ocean of miracles that has been crashing on the shores of our humanity since the beginning of time will not cease until His purpose is fulfilled.
“When the Lord brought back the captivity of Zion,
We were like those who dream.
Then our mouth was filled with laughter,
And our tongue with singing.
Then they said among the nations,
“The Lord has done great things for them.”
The Lord has done great things for us,
And we are glad.
Bring back our captivity, O Lord,As the streams in the South.
Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy.
He who continually goes forth weeping,
Bearing seed for sowing,
Shall doubtless come again with rejoicing,
Bringing his sheaves with him” (Psalm 126 NKJV).
