Heartbreaking. Our planet is in flames. The vicious and unnecessary provocation going on in Jerusalem right now is appalling, and the result, the anger of the Palestinians and the violence of the Israeli forces, devastating. Every day, you think that Trump cannot sink any lower, that he has gone as low as he can go. But he keeps surprising. 55 dead at last count, 2500 wounded so far, thanks to his incendiary decision. Not a single Israeli hurt.
My daughter told me she’s ashamed of her 1/4 Jewish blood, and I had to remind her, it’s not Jews who are the enemy here, it’s the state of Israel, more specifically, Israel’s far right leaders; plenty of Jews are as affronted as we are. Later, I Skyped with an old friend whose sister-in-law is Palestinian; her parents were exiled and lost their home in 1948 when the Israelis arrived in their village and threw them out. And yes, they hate, not Israelis, but Jews. My friend said recently she was visiting during a festive event, and children were letting balloons loose into the sky. She asked where the balloons were going. The children had fanciful answers, and then one small child said, They’re flying to Israel, to kill Jews.
How fundamental that hatred is on both sides, how intractable. In what universe did they think in 1948 that throwing an entire people off their land was a good idea? That there would not be repercussions for decades if not forever? Now, as a result of Trump’s embassy, there will be fresh waves of terrorism and violence. To tell you the truth, I feel violent myself. I’d throw rocks if I were there. And get shot.
And all this is going on while spring is blossoming in the most beautiful way, so glorious, the fresh greenness of it all, the scent of life opening up – it’s hard to be gloomy with such beauty. And yet it’s also hard to be cheerful when so much is going so very wrong all around us.
However, one sight always cheers me up:
They came to visit today and we went to the farm. They love spring too. We saw lambs, kids, even 3 baby turkeys. Or gobblegobbles, as Ben calls them.
May some semblance of sanity return, please God. May the electorate learn the facts and begin to make informed decisions. May my grandsons grow up in a world where there is at least a shred of hope for peace.