I was talking with a friend about how strange it is that we adjust ourselves to situations we would have considered impossible a few years before. When I first came to Israel in 1990 Saddam Hussein had just invaded Kuwait. Before we knew it, there was rumors of war with various horrible scenarios with which the population of Israel would have to cope. We got used to carrying that gas mask everywhere; to the sealed room equipped with emergency supplies; to hearing the siren and the missiles flying overhead almost every Friday night; to restricting our movements; to being addicted to the news.

Through the intifada Israelis changed their car windows to rock-proof plastic. There were areas that everyone knew were too dangerous to enter. We got used to avoiding standing too close to Arab-looking youths at bus stops, because there were so many stabbing incidents. We got used to seeing a population carrying guns for self-protection. We got used to riding in armored buses and then to the army escorts to get to certain places where we lived.

In the hey-day of Oslo, terrorism reached a height that was nearly unbearable, but we bore it. We lived with the panic attacks when some suspicious-looking character got on a bus. We lived with the dread of seeing a special report of another terror attack if we turned on the television. We lived with the funerals and the grief.

Today the situation isn't better -- it's worse. The hatred from the Arabs was worsened by the "peace" process, not decreased. Now, with terrorism again on the rise, there's talk of bullet-proofing cars. People in certain areas have to avoid walking by windows of their houses that face Arab areas; some have put sandbags in those windows because of the shooting. I found myself thinking I had to leave my office by a certain hour, because I didn't want to be out after dark. We're adjusting and changing our lifestyles, again. Scenes of apocalyptic films go through my mind. Horrible things so surrealistic that I never imagined them as possible, are becoming normal in our lives. And we go on.

Every night the Arabs were shooting at Vered Yericho, which is down the mountainside from Mitzpeh Yericho toward Yericho's casino; there was limited response. After the Arabs burned the synagogue in Yericho, which was the oldest in the world, the army responded by targeting the PA police training center. Since, we've been hearing the machine guns, the helicopters, the rockets, etc. each night. It reminds me of the times I lived near army artillery centers in the States and Europe. This isn't war games, though, this is the real thing. Yet each morning I get up and go to work just as I did before all this began, as though there were no war raging around us.

If I were not a person of faith, I know I would have called this Israel venture quits years ago. But I do believe the Torah that says this is the Land where the Jewish people belong, according to the promise of the Covenant. I believe the words of the Prophets that promise the Redemption, even though we also know there will be a dark corridor to pass through to get there. I see the connection between the fulfillment of G-d's promises to Israel and His judgement, because this is a theme throughout the Tanakh. Once Israel left slavery and crossed the Jordan, the time of judgement on the Amorites had arrived. Once Israel, in fulfillment of G-d's promise, began to be ingathered from the four corners of the world in our time, another time of judgement was at hand. What we are seeing is not just a struggle in the natural realm, but a great drama playing out in heaven, as well. The battle is fierce, but the ultimate outcome has already been decided. So, yes, we persevere in faith, praying that G-d will fortify us in the areas where we may be weak.

Miriam Ben-Yaacov
Mitzpeh Yericho