Tales from a Country at War
Click to purchase. “Your trip is in five days.”
My heart skipped a beat. I just bought a ticket to Israel…during wartime.
“God, that was Your clear instruction, right? Or did I mishear? I’m a wife, a mother, and a daughter. No, I’m pretty sure You said I need to go and flung wide the doors to go.”
Bags packed. Time to go.
As I arrived at the airport, I was interrogated for 30 minutes. Then given high security alert tags. Why would an American woman head to Israel at a time of war?
Every single item in my bag was checked. In the end I was let on the plane, sent off with a blessing from the TSA lady.
Arrival
Greeted by my friends in the Holy Land, I stayed the night at their home near the center of Israel. Upon arrival they let me know where the shelter is, pre-stocked with food, water, and flashlights. Heading for bed, I gathered a small go-bag should the incoming rocket alert go off overnight. I laid there for hours hoping sleep would overtake my thoughts. I finally woke up to the sound of chirping birds and the sun shining. It was surreal to think I was in a place of war when everything felt so peaceful.
I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat in front of the TV. The cease-fire had just ended. I glanced at my phone to see the rockets in the south had resumed.
“Lord protect us,” I said quietly, trying to remain strong like my Israeli friends who have already endured this for the last 56 days.
I thought twice before hopping in the shower. Do I have a towel nearby? Something I can throw on in less than 90 seconds as I run to take shelter?
Joining to Serve
That afternoon, I joined a group serving with war relief. Upon meeting the team, everyone had a story of how God uniquely called them to come, saying yes even though the trip was only a week away. God mobilized 74 people from 10 countries to volunteer for such a time as this. For some, this was their first time in Israel. Some women came leaving four, five, six little children behind. Wow. Our God is a mobilizer!
Arriving at the hotel, I rode the elevator with a woman carrying a plate from the cafeteria to her room. Her face was downcast. Is she a displaced person? Has she lost her home? Family members? So many questions came to mind wondering her back story. Turns out, the hotel was full of displaced people. Some 200,000 Israelis had been moved from border towns to hotels around the country.
Their resilience was fascinating to see. They had no kitchen, no living room, no yard. So, they gathered in the hotel lobby, making new friends, bonding over a shared tragic experience. The kids played games in the lobby, making new memories. One lady led a Pilates class, seeking to bring some semblance of normal. Teen girls offered to help with the littles.
Two months ago, this country was politically divided; demonstrations paralyzed public transport. Today, the country is unified, the people more gracious, patient, and helpful with one another than I had ever seen.
The Pivot
After October 7, ministries in Israel had to pivot quickly to war relief. One agency packs 3,000 grocery boxes every week, serving displaced families, those having to take shelter frequently near the border, and families with a parent who is away fighting.
As we walked around Jerusalem, people looked at us strangely. They hadn’t seen a “tour group” in two months. The tourism industry was suffering. According to one shopkeeper, “This is worse than during COVID.”
But they too pivoted. Hotels filled with displaced families. Tour buses transported soldiers. Restaurants sent food to the front lines. Lay people volunteered as town security.
Serving Near Tel Aviv
During our short time, we served in a variety of ways each providing new insights into life in Israel. One day as we packed food near Tel Aviv, my phone started to sound off: “Critical alert, you have 90 seconds to take shelter.”
We headed to the nearest shelter as a rocket was incoming. I heard several booms. Thankfully the Iron Dome deployed and stopped the rockets midair. We waited 10 minutes for the debris and shrapnel to clear and returned to packing.
Serving Border Towns
Though not on the itinerary, one evening we were informed we would be heading to a border near Gaza to pick fruit. My heart started pounding. I wasn’t mentally prepared for this. I spoke to our security guard who was traveling with us.
“Just making sure I understand the situation. We are headed to a citrus grove, where rockets frequently fall. Where we will have 15 seconds to seek shelter if the alert goes off. But oh wait, there is no shelter in a fruit grove. And oh wait, the Iron Dome may not deploy if the trajectory is an open field. Is that right?”
He answered, “Yes, we must pray for tomorrow.”
They gave us the option to stay back. But I sensed the Lord saying it was okay and we were in His watchful care.
That day, we picked citrus fruits. The country is short 10,000 agricultural workers as most have either fled to their home country, were called up to the reserves or had been murdered on October 7. Much of the fruit will fall and be wasted if not harvested in time.
I heard a sound and, for some reason, my feet led me along with my new friend from Germany to run toward the sound. We looked out to see Israel Defense Force (IDF) tanks rolling by. We stood waving and gave a thumbs up. They smiled, hopefully encouraged to fight another day.
This was surreal. Only in WWII films had I seen “Rosie the Riveter” type women cheering on the troops as they fought against the Nazis and their sympathizers. Here I was in 2023, cheering on the IDF as they sought to stamp out the same antisemitic spirit that indwelled the Nazis. Truly surreal.
Headed back to Jerusalem, I thanked the Lord for protecting us while near the border. As we rode, I saw a rocket alert for the town where we had just served. Then the trip leader announced over the bus microphone plans for the next day. “We are headed back to the Gaza border.” Time for more trust and strength.
Touring Be’eri
The next morning, we served breakfast to soldiers stationed less than two miles from the Gaza border. “You have warmed our hearts and our bellies,” said one soldier. He then informed us his wife had birthed a baby on the morning of October 7. He has barely been home to spend time with his new bundle of joy.
It was time to head to Kibbutz Be’eri. My mind quickly recalled the images of Auschwitz where I had just visited over the summer. Be’eri is one of the kibbutzes that was infiltrated on that Sabbath morning, photos of which had been circulating on social media, but many of which could not be shown due to graphic content. Ten percent of this village’s population was brutally massacred.
Equipped with a tactical helmet and bulletproof vests, we toured the village. I could hear the war waging in the distance, with machine guns firing and loud artillery booms. I jumped the first few times. Soon I got used to it.
I saw a toddler toy among the rubble. Scorched homes. Bright flowers blooming in stark contrast to the sight of the carnage that had happened. Words of one of the survivors echoed in my head, “On October 6 we thought of Kibbutz Be’eri as a green paradise but on the morning of October 7, it was a black hell.”
Serving in the North
Families have also been displaced from the Lebanese border to towns and kibbutzes in the Golan. On one kibbutz we painted three buildings that were now serving as a school for displaced children. Another pivot.
We talked to a man from North America. He had just immigrated to Israel on October 4 and started to settle into a border town. Now he was helping lead relief efforts, not having even unpacked boxes in the home he had to flee.
We hosted a fun day for kids. It had been two months since these kids had a normal day. Set up with a bounce house, soccer, face painting, and more, kids were able to smile and laugh for the first time in a while. One little girl was missing her favorite stuffed animal, left behind in a home to which she may never return. At the fun day, she made a sock puppet (a teammate had packed all the supplies from the U.S.), and her mom was nearly in tears as she saw her daughter’s face light up.
Memorial Garden
Why is our group planting 400 pine trees for a memorial garden? Two reasons. One, soon Israelis will need a place to mourn and grieve over the atrocities committed on that fateful day. Psychologists are stumped over how to help children process such horrifying events. There is no textbook for such a thing. Two, there are already deniers saying the October 7 atrocity didn’t happen.
Back Home
I hope our meager efforts made a dent in the help Israel needs at this time. I trust our presence showed “you are not alone” to a people feeling isolated by the increased worldwide antisemitism and heart-broken over images of pro-Hamas college students and protesters.
Will You?
Will you join us in sharing these stories? As followers of the God of Israel, it is time to stand up for Israel. As followers of the Lion of the tribe of Judah, will you roar over the injustices committed against the Jewish people? And as followers of the God who sent His Son to save the world, will you speak out against Hamas who is using the Gazan people for its evil purposes?
Written by Stephanie, Life in Messiah staff