Praying for Israel

This is the most helpless I've ever felt as a mom. My child and his whole country are in danger, and I'm on the other side of the world, and there's not a damned thing I can do about it. My thoughts have taken some shocking turns (shocking to me, anyway), but ultimately led me to a place of acceptance. I'm going to share those thoughts with you.

I was driving home from work, worrying and fretting, and it occurred to me that I needed to get my head in the game. If I got into an accident and was seriously injured, poor Firstborn would get that news on top of everything else he's going through. Then I thought, "And he'd come home."

That's not what I want, though! Or if it were, I'd also want his girlfriend to come, and her family, and his friends and co-workers, his landlord, the man who drove him to the hospital after his bike accident...

You see where I'm going with this. Namely, to the same place where another train of thought led me, earlier this afternoon. I was looking at the pictures that I have up on the walls of my cube: Firstborn eating pizza in a sidewalk cafe in Haifa, his girlfriend posing in her Army uniform, the two of them in a park-like setting, a Google Earth shot of his neighborhood. I saw the beauty of the scenery that surrounded my dear ones in those pictures, and I thought, "Don't bomb that! Don't shell that! It's so lovely, please leave it alone."

Firstborn loves Israel. His life is there, the life he made for himself; the life he loves. His girlfriend was born there, and so were her parents, and so were many of his friends. They all have deep roots there. It's their home. They're Israelis. And this -- fighting like hell when they're attacked; fighting for their lives -- is what they do. They don't hurry and get this over with, spend as little money and time on it as possible, fight war on the cheap. They give it everything they've got, for as long as they have to, and make whatever sacrifices are necessary. Because there is no alternative.

All this I have realized about my son and his life. Loving him as much as I do means wanting the very best for him, and this has to be what he would consider the very best. Which necessitates valuing what he values. Therefore what I want is him safe and sound, but on his terms: namely, also his home, his people, his surroundings, safe and sound. Tonight I'm praying for him, and for Israel.