"Those Who Wait..."

At sundown, tents were already in place with young families who had come from around the country and set up camp on Mount Zion. They brought little with them, just enough for their week in Jerusalem. Crude hammocks were strung between the trees rocking the young children to sleep at naptime, while Abba and Ima prepared for a Shabbat rest for the biblical feast of Shavuot (Pentecost).

Meanwhile, orthodox families were arriving from around the city making their way to the Western Wall plaza to spend the night in the prayer and reading of the Book of Ruth . . . waiting, praying, singing, reading . . . At sunrise, the traditional Hebrew morning prayers were recited with passion, fervor, in unity.

I felt inspired to join my prayer and invocation for the presence of the Ruach Ha Kodesh (the Spirit of God) as tens of thousands cried out unto the God of Israel. . . May He answer your prayers swiftly with His Shekinah poured out upon all the House of Israel. Amen.

A Wedding Amidst Rockets

"I love your Word, O Lord!" -- so says the Psalmist expressing his heart felt devotion to the words of the Torah given to the people of Israel by the God of Israel. The Torah is celebrated by the Jewish people in every community around the world. The scroll is even housed in a specially built cabinet laid to rest in a prominent place in the synagogue.

To dedicate a new Torah scroll in a community synagogue is another opportunity to celebrate in the streets. Through the years of living in Jerusalem, I have seen these boistrous celebrations in our own neighbhorhood, and they resemble a Jewish wedding reception. The synagogue committee sends out an invitation to the neighbhorhood inviting them to participate in the celebration, posting it at the local grocery stores. Then, a couple of hours prior to the ceremony, a small car with a loud speaker makes his way through the narrow streets announcing the time and place. The crowds gather. The residents - young and old - link arm in arm and begin their celebrative Israeli line dance up the street behind the car with the loud speaker as the preceed the newly devoted Torah scroll, leading the way to its new home in local the Synagogue.

A table of refreshments has been laid for the guests, and for the next 2 hours, the ear piercing music and dancing in the streets continues . . . inviting the neighbhors to celebrate their new Torah scroll. It is awesome to watch and to see a people so appreciate the words of God in such a manner.

I was particularly amazed last week, that, in the midst of the rockets falling on S'derot close to the border of northern Gaza, a "wedding" ceremony of the Torah dedication took place.

It was an "in your face" celebration by this battered community. After 1,000 S'derot citizens had evacuated earlier that day, a small contingent of remaining brave and faith-filled citizens, who themselves had been experiencing a barrage of 100 rockets within 3 days, paraded through their pockholed streets -- with their new Torah scroll! They danced, they kissed and hugged the Torah, they sang, they celebrated with great exuberance.

The community of S'derot under attack determined to celebrate their Torah "wedding" anyway, and sang loudly, danced wildly and declared to God, to the world, and to their attacking neighbhors in this act: "I love Your Word, O Lord!"

As they were leaving the synagogue around 11:00 pm, Hamas responded intentionally by sending another volley of rockets, hitting the synagogue directly. A few were injured and treated for shock.

At the writing of this, there is no let up of the attacks on S'derot. But, the newly placed Torah scroll reminds the worshipers of this declaration of God through the ancient Pslamist who also encountered enemy attacks:

“But You, O LORD, shall laugh at them; You shall have all the nations in derision. I will wait for You, O You my Strength; for God is my defense. My God of mercy shall come to meet me; God shall let me see my desire on my enemies” (Psalm 59:8–10).

Ode to Jerusalem

Having traveled to many beautiful cities of the world, I have to say that there is none that equals Jerusalem. The limestone of each building creates a hue as the sun reflects from its ancient stones. The hills and wadi's leading to each neighbhorhood are picturesque and hold their own uniqueness. Everytime I climb the hills and make my way up to Jerusalem, songs erupt within me as I view the landscape, anticipating the next turn that leads to my home.

But the people of every city creates the atmosphere, and this is certainly true of Jerusalem. I love to be wherever the people are, and I actually enjoy the crush of people, shopping in the open market, going to the mall just hours before a major Jewish holiday begins with the hustle and bustle of preparations.

Jerusalem Day afforded an opportunity to view the kaliedescope that is the City of Jerusalem. Tens of thousands of Israeli citizens from all over the country and tourists from many nations converged within the city center, parading in their units and specialty groups. But the most anticipated portion of the parade are the youth of this nation raising high the flag of Israel, the standard of King David.

The crowds of Jerusalemites and visitors then make their way through the Old City Gates, dancing and singing, a boistrous celebration as they make their way to the very heart of every Jew, the Western Wall.

I love the songs of Zion. For me they are reminders of the God of Israel who declared to King Solomon long ago after he built the Temple, "I have chosen and consecrated this temple so that my Name may be there forever. My eyes and my heart will always be there."

This is my ode to Jerusalem, the City of our God...and to all of her inhabitants that love her.

A Jerusalem Treasure Hunt

We headed out on our morning walk. High school students were flying by us, backpacks flapping, sandals pounding the asphalt . . . seemingly in a race with one another. We carried on with our pace . . . another 3 students seem to come out of no where. We turned the corner on our normal route and 5 students ran up to us inquiring, "Do you live in this neighbhorhood? . . . Can you tell us where an ancient mosaic floor is laying on display?"

We knew exactly what they were looking for having passed by this spot a number of occasions. This mosaic floor lay where the ancient aquaduct ran to the Temple Mount from the hill in our neighbhood, a peak in the south part of the city.

"Sure! Go along the Promenade road and turn right at the light . . . follow the park . . ." We found out these students had come up to Jerusalem from their homes in northern Israel just prior to the Jerusalem Day celebrations. Their teachers had planned for them to view the archeological sites in a fun way . . . they were given a laminated chart of sites throughout the neighbhorhood to locate. The first team to finish wins the big prize.

We sent this team on and up came another, then another, and another . . . For the next 45 minutes, we became the neighborhood tour guides, directing teams of students - and parents! - on a Jerusalem archeological treasure hunt.

Rounding the corner we arrived at the promenade plaza greeting a friend from Tel Aviv, an Israeli tour guide with a small group of American tourists. All the while the high school students from the north of the country were running all over the promenade in search of the next ancient site on their map. Two very husky buff and stern-looking border police stood guard with their guns positioned . . . many buses unloaded their tourists who were grouped in units around the national park. Units of IDF soldiers come to this panoramic viewpoint on a regular basis and are taught by Israeli tour guides the history of the battles fought on the mountains all around Jerusalem. I have often thought as I see them that hearing the history from this vantage point would inspire a fresh motivation to guard the citizens of Israel.

"Hey Ron!" called the muscular border policeman. My husband heard someone calling his name. It was our neighbhor in the special police forces who was assigned the job of protecting the citizens at this site . . . a very pleasant and welcome change from his normal watch duty on the frontlines. We chatted with he and his partner for a time . . . occasionally pausing to congratulate the high school students running by at their treasure hunt successes! They were nearer to the finish.

Returning home via our normal circuitous route, my husband and I talked about how fun it would be to discover Jerusalem's hidden treasures as the high school students were doing - on such a treasure hunt, much of which is still hidden in the earth waiting to be unearthed and discovered. But the real treasures are the people within its walls . . . Jerusalem's living treasures.

UNICEF, Gaza children & Mickey Mouse Lookalike

You only have to read the UNICEF Mission Statement to know that clearly, they are a complete failure in their mission to the children of Gaza. I know you saw the Mickey Mouse lookalike on Gaza children's TV network in recent weeks. Just when we thought the world had shamed the leadership sufficiently to pull the program, Hamas put their star back on TV. "Farfur" the Hamas Mickey Mouse encourages Gaza children with songs of jihad martyrdom, each verse spewing Islamic intentions towards their Jewish neighbhors.

Here's my concern: Hamas demonstrates a clear hatred of the children they have birthed, as well as the women in their communities. This so-called democratically elected governmental body in Gaza and the West Bank should be caring for their millions of poor households and strengthening communities with thriving families through education and charity. Instead they pour their energies into "metal foundaries" (that's what news media calls their bomb making factories), build expansive tunnels for gun running from Egypt to Gaza, run programs of recruitment for suicide bombers, and training camps for their "fighters." They sponsor jihadi "summer camps" for the children, teaching them how to take up arms against their Jewish neighbhors.

Having raised 3 children into adulthood in this city, I am horrified at the mothering instincts I see demonstrated in my neighbhors in Gaza. They willingly send their children to these Hamas-sponsored summer camps which only fuel the hatred in their children. The photos tell the real story.

Save the Children, Stop the Recruiters
I want to know what the international children protection organizations like UNICEF or SAVE THE CHILDREN are really doing these days. Are they just busy with the job of fund raising programs? Have they taken notice that Islamic groups are recruiting children for their suicide missions? Where is the world-wide outcry against the education of Islamic children that advocates hate against Jews, Israel, Christians and the West? Why are these same children's organizations not coming into "refugee" camps and protesting against groups like Islamic Jihad that target 10-year olds, encouraging them to grow up and strap belts of explosives to their waists so that they can kill Jewish children?

ISLAMIC CRIMES AGAINST HUMANITY
Islamic clerics and community leaders and terror recruiters of children should be brought to justice by international courts. These recruited and indoctrinated children have been convinced in their hearts and minds that what they are doing is good and righteous, and that they are pleasing their god Allah. Some political leaders and Islamic clerics have tried to convince the international public through the media that these terrorists are not Islamic! The fact is, these children grew up in Islamic homes, heard the anti-Israeli, anti-Jewish rhetoric by Islamic religious clerics from the pulpit of their local Mosque every Friday, read the Koran and Hadith and believed its teachings, while their terror group leaders promised them all the Islamic rewards of eternity - if they would just blow themselves up and kill some Israeli's in the process.

Yasser Arafat was one of those recruiters. He used his political weight to convince his people . . . I heard his speeches while my children were yet young. He once pleaded with Palestinian Mothers in a public speech over a decade ago, "Give me your children for the Palestinian cause..." They did. They dedicated their toddlers, sent them to terror summer camps in Gaza, and faithfully taught them how to give themselves to the "Palestinian cause."

There is even a Palestinian girls summer camp. Does anyone wonder why we now have girl suicide bombers? As a mother of three children and a grandmother of two, I am outraged at these actions.

CHILDREN BELIEVE THE ADULTS IN THEIR LIFE
Children have a deep loyalty to the roots of their family, community and faith. They see their older brothers and uncles in fatigues with masks and guns, reading, quoting and carrying their Koran, and want to grow up to be just like Uncle Mahmoud. These same children participate in public rallies on a regular basis, raising their voices, their fists, throwing rocks upon command. Below is a video in Gaza where the indoctrinated children dress up and put on a typical Hamas rally . . . see for yourself:

You can't tell me that these children did not believe in Allah or have a deep sense that they were pleasing him according to all they had been taught since childhood. They have a need to please their families and to prove their loyalties to Allah. Disillusioned or shamed girls are easy prey by these terror leaders to send them out on suicide missions. And therein is the Islamic crimes against humanity. Don't attach "extremism" to the word Islamic, as if to categorize them separately, thereby making it more palatable, because in light of the actions of recent years, no one believes it. None of these children that have blown themselves up and killed others were extreme. They were just children. One of these children recruited and sent to kill Israeli's in recent years was a mentally retarded teen. Thankfully, he was caught in time by astute Israeli border guards. Israeli Jews saved his life, I might add. Islamic clerics, UNICEF, SAVE THE CHILDREN, or even his mother were no where around to save his life. Now that's a crime . . . and my concern.

Save the children. . . please.

The Rabbi's Son Loves God

The first time I saw him he was about 3 years old, a typically active child. I noticed the differences in him as the years have gone by. He always had a wide grin for the next person that crossed his path. Sometimes he would stand on the curb outside of his apartment building and greet the passersby with a friendly "shalom!" He is the next to the last in a very large family of the neighbhorhood Rabbi who leads the Ashkenazi synagogue, their apartment facing our back balcony directly across the parking lot. We often were quiet observers of their Jewish holiday celebrations that included their extended family, synagogue members and visitors. Many evenings were spent studying Torah around their dining room table, the ancient Jewish prayers filling the air, often late into the night.

One day, something changed. There was much activity at the home of the Rabbi's family. I quickly learned that the Rabbi's married older daughter had died of cancer, leaving behind a grieving husband and children. For a week, the family sat shiva with hundreds of comforters filing in and out of the small Jerusalem apartment. I remember observing the younger children - including the Rabbi's younger son - and the confusion on their faces, sad, with a grief they could not comprehend.


Through the years, we have watched the children grow, celebrate their bar and bat Mitzvah's, get married, have their own children - the cycles of life.

The Rabbi's son too participates in the cycle of Jewish life, but I've noticed with a difference: He celebrates life with exuberance. I remember when he celebrated his Bar Mitzvah year several birthdays ago, and proudly wore his black coat, black pants, white shirt and black hat - just like his Father. Now he walked to synagogue with his Father for prayers, a new prayer shawl hanging over his shoulders.

Just this morning I heard his loud and boistrous singing unto the God of Israel. Sometimes he goes to his balcony, faces East to where the Temple Mount once stood, and sings his prayers - with all his heart, mind, soul and strength - his face uplifted, eyes closed, davening with great joy. I can hear every word he cries unto his God.

I love that. Clearly, he is lost in the love of his God and is unaffected by whether or not he sounds too loud and might "disturb" his neighbhors. I know he does not even consider that his voice carries beyond the edges of his worn prayer book. He recites the ancient prayers of King David, and reminds his heart of God's promises according to His Word, a great inspiration to me personally.

You see, the Rabbi's son is considered by the medical experts as "mentally slow." I know God is so pleased with his pure heart and sincere love for Him.

Please God . . . help me love You today as much as the Rabbi's son. Amen.