Don't Sweat the Small Stuff

My Adventures in Israel By Devorah Burnet Don't Sweat the Small Stuff When we first moved to Israel I was less than impressed with the ediquette, or lack of it, in this culture. I can remember being cut off on the road in Nashville, TN and dwelling on it, obsessing over it for days. I would call my friend and tell them the whole story, with drama and animation, about how I nearly lost my life on the road, that it was a miracle we survived. But in a 15 minute drive to the supermarket in Israel, you can experience the same drama no less than a handful of times, and not think twice about it as you are waiting in line to pay for your groceries. The fact that a man just came within inches of taking out your car or your life, and everyone else's, without looking at any of you, as if you weren't there and he owns the road, is completely forgotten by the time you are having an argument with the guy trying to convince you that his agalah (supermarket buggy) should be in front of yours because he placed it near the line while he left to finish his shopping. And by the time you are putting your groceries in the car, you have forgotten all about the grocery line argument, because someone is honking at you to put your kids and groceries in the car faster so he can have your parking spot and agalah. After several near death experiences on the way home, you've forgotten about the person hurrying you out of your parking spot while you stop for gas only to have to wait 3.8 minutes for the man in front of you to double park on the road chatting with someone on his cell phone, causing you to veer into oncoming traffic, scattering cars all over the road of which you don't even notice. Upon returning home, your spouse asks "how was your day?" and you say, "lovely, uneventful, I was happy to find a legal place to park and I found an agalah with three wheels, I only pulled 5 muscles and got one hernia while pushing it" you respond with a smile. "Oh and by the way, no rockets landed near us either and the lines were short, we got out of there in less than two hours without giving anyone a black eye." Israel has a way of helping people get over theirselves. It puts things into perspective and helps us to not sweat the small stuff. I no longer take offense to what others think or say or do. Miracles are a daily occurance and when someone cuts you off or takes your place in line, you laugh it off and let it go. Its forgotten ten minutes later because there are more battles ahead. I noticed a favorite word of many Israelis (in English) is "nevermind". It reminds me of a book I read some years ago called The Right Words at the Right Time. There was a story in the book about the song "Let it Be". Paul McCartney's mother was named Mary and her words of wisdom were "Let it be" I've often found myself singing that song in Israeli traffic. Recently I was thinking about the divisions and splintering of religious or political groups. How in the past in America, when my spiritual or political toes got stepped on, or my political car got run off the road, I'd call a friend to vent about the drama, reliving every detail and obsessing over it for weeks. Funny how Israeli traffic and lack of social graces can cure you of such offenses. Seems Israel has taught me to not sweat the small stuff anymore. Personally, I really don't care anymore what political party you support, what religion you are, or if you agree with my zealous passionate zionist agenda. I really love you no matter what. And guess what, I even love the Palestinians! Turns out that guy double parked on the road holding up traffic while talking on his cell phone was my next door neighbor who I joyfully waved to upon pulling up to the house with my groceries. And the guy with his buggy in line was my arab friend who works at the bakery. Its a different world here. Israeli system of government is based on parliamentary democracy. With 120 parliament members representing over two dozen parties! Israel's elected Prime Minister represents the majority party. So rather than the "us against them" mentality often seen in the states (republicans vs. democrats) we can have 20 friends all voting for more than 20 parties! And in the end all that really matters is that we are all on the same side fighting the same war. And when we are on the front lines, it won't matter that my brother on my right or my sister on my left, belonged to the same political party or not. It won't matter that yesterday he cut me off in traffic or took my place in line. Truth is, I won't even notice those small things. Because when all hell breaks loose, and it will, all that matters is the bigger picture. I often get a chuckle now out of reading American news. People suing for this or protesting about that. In one aspect the middle east can bring on a new kind of stress, but at the same time, I find I get my feathers ruffled a lot less. Israel has one of the highest life expectancies. Israeli teens are among the happiest in the world. Our economy, health, and education stats are off the charts in comparison to most. Sometimes being in "survival mode" can allow us to shed the stuff that just doesn't matter. I'll leave you with this joke... What happens when a fly falls into a coffee cup? The Italian - throws the cup and walks away in a fit of rage The Frenchman - takes out the fly, and drinks the coffee The Chinese - eats the fly and throws away the coffee The Israeli - sells the coffee to the Frenchman, the fly to the Chinese, buys himself a new cup of coffee and uses the extra money to invent a Device that prevents flies from falling into coffee. or this one... A reporter asks 4 men in NY about the recent meat shortage, "Excuse me...What's your opinion on the meat shortage?" The American says: What's a shortage? The Russian says: What's meat? The Chinese man says: What's an opinion? The Israeli says: What's "Excuse me"?.....

Motherhood

My day began with the usual quiet time of prayer in the dark quiet hours of early morning, then snuggling moments with a toddler and 5 year old. Then I raced around to get the 4 younger ones dressed, breakfast, lunches packed, teeth brushed, vitamins taken, stuffing homework into backpacks and finding shoes and jackets. Then I rushed one off to kindergarten and ran errands downtown. Bank, post office, grocery store, etc. I returned home realizing I hadn't eaten breakfast and it was near lunch time. I ran around the kitchen stuffing chips in my mouth as I put away groceries. Midway through cleaning the fridge, and putting away groceries, and cooking part of tonight's supper, my two year old spilled a cup of juice. As I was midway through cleaning the juice, the phone rang. I finished the phone conversation to find my two year old had emptied the book shelf of all the photo albums. It was past noon when I hadn't finished the groceries, cleaning the fridge, eating lunch, cooking supper, doing the dishes, or folding the 7 unfolded loads of laundry. About this time, I began to rethink my opinion of legalizing marijuana! Determined to get something accomplished, I handed my son a rag and showed him how much fun it was to wipe up the juice while we danced and sang "you are my sunshine". Yes, just call me the wiping queen!

Motherhood has given me more joy in my life than words can say. I've been privileged to have been mothering for the last 20+ years. Being pregnant and/or breastfeeding for 18 of those 20 years has been more fulfilling (excuse the pun) than I'd ever dreamed. Always with a babe in arms, or snuggled at my side in bed, it has been a lovely chapter in my life of which I'm so thankful.

In these last 20 years I've changed over 25,000 diapers, wiped dirty bottoms thousands of times, wiped thousands of tears, wiped thousands of runny noses, wiped blood, vomit and spills. Could write a book of funny stories. Have been given thousands of kisses and hugs, a thousand pictures on my fridge, kissed countless boo boos, said tens of thousands of prayers. I've lost thousands of hours of sleep but gained thousands of days of laughter and love. I've learned more from my children than I've taught, and surely have much more to learn.

I've danced with my children, cried with them, learned with them, fought with them, triumphed together over challenges, I've hurt with them and for them, I've sacrificed my time, my own desires, my sleep, my figure, my favorite places and hobbies. I've watched them grow, mature, get married, step out into the unknown spread their wings and fly into new territories. I've watched them fall down, and get back up. I've watched them wrestle with the world, wrestle with their own faith, building their own convictions. I've sensed their passions as they set out to conquer goals.

Motherhood must be more entertaining than any hollywood movie and more rewarding than any university degree. I've reached highs that no drug could ever give!

When I look at all the turns my life could have made. All the paths I might have taken, I think of all I would have missed. My life is rich. Its been good and keeps getting better. The story isn't near over. It must be in the thick of the drama...the suspense...the mystery...the wonder...the awe.... I am blessed! I love my life and the God who gives me the privilege to live it!

Wrestling with God

In our 4.5 years here in Israel, we've found it to be quite challanging. Thankfully we came with the mindset that it wouldn't be easy, that we were not coming here for a cushy life, and were prepared for the worse. The fact that we were "psyched" for the battle, made us put everything that came our way, in perspective, better than we'd expected. However, it has been a battle. And we've seen so many come and go. I've struggled with wanting to leave more times than I can count. All this time though, I've had it all wrong. I thought I was wrestling with the enemy who didn't want us here. I thought we were against the advasary.

Recently while going through another round in the ring, I thought, this time I'm not going down! One of those many sleepless nights on my knees/face crying out to God, He showed me something. Israel means to wrestle with God. It was if God opened my eyes to a new perspective on Israel. Before Jacob returned to Israel to make things right with his brother, he had to wrestle a long and painful battle with God Himself! Before the Israelites could return to Israel after their years in slavery, in Egypt, they had to wander in the wilderness. For every Exodos, there's been a "rights of passage" ritual of sorts. When Jacob limped away from that wrestling with God, it changed the name of who we are forever....we wrestle with God.

Its a known fact that it is no easy thing to become Israeli. Blame it on who you will; Ministry of Interior, beaurocratic red tape, spiritual warfare or whoever. I now believe it is all about wrestling with God. And I think it is all good! Anything fought for is appreciated. And we have something to prove. How bad do we want it? What will we sacrifice for it? Will you give up or look God in the eye and say " I won't quit until You bless me!"

I'm not sure how many times God will ask me to step back into the ring. For now, He's blessed me and given me a time of rest! Baruch HaShem! I'm limping but dancing for joy all the same! Blessed are You oh Lord my God Who in Your great Mercy and Love, have brought me into the Land of Israel.

When is it War?

I never paid attention to civics class in school. It bored me. Thought it was one of those subjects I'd never need later in life. Politics and government scared me so I learned enough temporary information to pass. Now I find myself regretting that and as many of us, wishing I'd paid more attention in class. So please forgive my ignorance if I appear to be...well....ignorant. But when do you call it war? Is there a quota of deaths before it is politically correct to call it war? Is there a measure of rockets or retaliation that qualifies fighting between nations before it is officially war?

I mean are we at war or aren't we? We have phosphorus scuds flying over, and into our cities, but so far this "not war yet" hasn't been given a name. As long as Hillary is being entertained in Jerusalem and the media fed its daily ration of fake food for thought, there isn't any titles to this madness. They continue their piece talks as though there were no real offense being taken on our soil. Is this the response they give to our desire for peace? More blood shed? The bodies of those slain just two weeks ago are barely cold and yet they sadly seem to be forgotten by many.

Just what is there to talk about? More land, no peace. More wounded and dead. We give more, they take more. Still no peace.

They still have Gilead Schallit...God bless his soul! Why didn't we keep fighting until he was back home? Why did we ever stop hitting back? They break UN resolutions, cease fires, and commit war crimes but that goes virtually unreported.

There seems to be only One mediator that can put a stop to these...wars and rumors of war. Until He comes, we wait, we pray, we hope.

Torn between two worlds

Most days I don't miss America. I might miss friends or family. I might (on rare occasion)miss the lush green rolling hills and forrests of TN. I miss water...rivers, ponds, rain. Sometimes I miss communication ease, the news or radio, or phone tasks in english. ok....I can't convince myself or you that I don't miss it...I do. That doesn't mean I am not happy here though. I love my life here in Israel dispite the challanges.

Our second oldest son Tyler, and his wife Leeraz, will be soon flying over the ocean to America. This will be her first time there. She was granted a one year visa. He intends to work for Michael Rood. I am excited for them to have this opportunity. Yet, I also know I will miss them. In telling my daughter in law what to expect, I realized that I do miss my friends and family, etc. (ssshhhh...I even miss Walmart! ) But the grief I have to see the country decline politically, morally, and economically makes me miss it a little less.

Recently the financial strain became so heavy that I found myself slipping into a temporary insanity moment of actually considering returning to America. I reasoned that we could work there much easier; we know the language, have skills, familiar with the culture. Gas wouldn't be $7 a gallon, cars are cheaper, insurance cheaper, and if my electric were about to be turned off I could still function. My mind began to toy with the idea of ease of life for us and the children, and the joy of being with loved ones. My tastebuds began to beg for Cracker Barrel. I could smell the wide open green hay fields of TN...I could see the faces of those I miss so much. I could hear english spoken everywhere and fully understood! sigh...for just a brief moment..I was back in my familiar comfort zone.

Then I snapped back into reality. I repented for shaking my fist at God and for complaining and crying the woe is me, to my generous and merciful Almighty Father. I call them ten minute pity parties. I warned my husband after we moved to the amish community, that if things got rough, and I had a pity party...just ignore me and I'd get over it. I did. And again I warned him this would happen here in Israel, and it has. I'm thankful he is wise in how he deals with me. And with how HE deals with me. Truth is, its rough everywhere. And if I have to suffer here or there, I'd chose here. I have a feeling that putting things into perspective, from what the prophesies predict...we are all in for much more suffering than most of us have ever known. So things just got a little brighter by keeping that in mind.

And anyway, now we are so mixed up...living in the land for 4.5 years has my children all fully reading writing and speaking in hebrew. Sometimes they have to struggle for a word in english. If we returned for any significant amount of time, it would be reverse culture shock on them! and Tim...what about Tim who still has 1.5 years of army left? naaa...wouldn't work to go back now. Thankfully I can talk myself out of it.

so what are we now? Israeli or American? When asked by the Israeli government, to write an explanation of why we wanted to make aliyah I emphasized that we intended to become Israeli, not Americans living in Israel. I think to some degree, this has become true. Even with the hardships, even for me not speaking the language, if you asked me the question, I'd say yes, I feel very Israeli. Even with all I miss or all we've suffered...it still feels right....still feels like home.

Genesis 12:1 Now get thee out of thy country from thy kindred, and go to a place that I will show you...

The Army calls

Arena our nearly 17 yr old daughter, has received her army papers. Her interview/appointment/physical is set for mid November. She will enter the army within a year and a half. With this I have (and she has) mixed feelings. When we first arrived in Israel 4 and a half years ago, we assumed our daughters would not serve in the army. Now after some time here, we see that the young women serving brings on a sense of patriotism, and also benefits the country. Personally for Arena, as a new immigrant, this will help her feel more integrated into the country, and also help polish off her new found hebrew skills.

They have many options of doing things in a godly manner. From the way they dress to how/where they serve. The young ladies can opt to do community service, and serve at a hospital or school as a volunteer. They can request a desk job, or become a combat commander (this is something I don't approve of for many reasons), or become a social worker. Arena is toying with the idea of being an army driver. This would absorb the cost of us having to send her to driving lessons. Driving courses and tests and finally the license here to drive, can amount to over $1000!

Any young woman who is married is exempt from mandatory service. Young men are required a minimum of 3 years, and young women serve for two. But if she would become married, she can leave the army. If they decide to study first, the have to give additional time in the field they chose...for example, if they study medicine, they serve additional time, paid, to be involved as a medic in the IDF. Arena is considering photography or computer graphics. If she would chose to study first, she will likely be put in the Media Dept.


Whatever she decides, can change subject to the army's needs. My prayer is that she is in a safe environment spiritually, socially and physically. I also pray that she is close to home, and can return home often. She and I have always been close. As a baby, she was nursed three and a half years, and been by my side for 4 births, cutting the cords of her younger siblings and being my postpartum nurse. We have homeschooled her. She has been my personal secretary, my babysitter, my best friend. So this time now of her leaving the nest brings me both joy and pain.

Oh and By the Way

My son, an IDF soldier in a combat unit, doesn't get to come home often. I really miss him, but I've noticed when he is home it isn't that I am with him that gives me so much peace...it is just that he is home. My heart is at peace knowing he is not on an ambush or a guard post in the West Bank. When he is home, I sleep better, relax easier, smile more, worry less, and feel less stress.
Today as we drove into town to do errands for him, we talked about what he does from day to day. It varies and changes as his unit moves around alot with many different functions. We talked about the coins he shot holes through at the shooting range, and about the food being so bad at the base, about the 100F + heat we've had this week, etc. We joked about the holes in the floor of his truck trailer they live in, having holes in it so big that someone fell through. He tells me funny stories of how exhausted they are from so little sleep, that he often talks in his sleep or guys fall asleep on thier feet.
My son has an interesting gift of being able to make light of any situation, and to joke under pressure, to make others laugh at him, or at theirselves. He is very positive and upbeat taking life as it comes, with a measure of humor. So as we joked about some of the uncomfortable things he deals with in the army, he said, "oh and by the way..." He went on to tell me how the other day, they went into one of the most very dangerous arab villages in all of Israel. They had gone in to serve arrest warrants to those who hadn't come to court. They were driving in full armoured vehicles, in full gear, with him a driver in the rear guard. Suddenly I wasn't laughing and nothing was funny. The reality hit me again, that every day I am praying, I never know just where he is, what he is doing, but that I need to be praying. I asked if there was anything interesting that happened and he said that some arab kids had thrown big rocks at them and one hit his officer but otherwise all went well. He laughed it off, and went on to talk about the food again, or lack of it.
Last night began Ramadan, the month long muslim holiday. We are often on hightened security during these times, and as the mother of a soldier, I am on full time prayer duty. We were reading the Psalms last night and came across a favorite...Psalm 121...He who watches over Israel never slumbers or sleeps... oh and by the way, this also goes for the mothers of those who watch over Israel.

He Hit Me First!

I have tried many parenting methods. I can't say any one works better than another. In all honest confession, I'm becoming much too lax these days. In the beginning, when the children had scuffles, I'd often sit them down and talk it out and get to the bottom of it, who started it, what punishment needed to be rendered, etc. Now I don't have the time or energy for a full investigation. When one child comes to me and says "he hit me" and the other says, "he hit me first" I simply say to the one crying to me, "Then case closed, you got what you deserved."

I'm here to cry to the world, (in hopes that the international community no longer has the time or energy for more investigations), that "HE HIT ME FIRST!" Israel in fact, has taken blow after blow, and one of these days, she isn't going to wait for mama UN to come and settle it. Its not news when our Negev is hit continuously with rockets from Gaza. Today Israel showed even more great restraint. Yesterday Eilat took a beating with rockets and today it is our northern borders with Lebanon. So now Lebanon cries "she hit me" to big brother UN, and I hope for once, they would just say, "so you got what you deserved!"

Its a good thing for these terrorists that I am not in charge of this army. I am afraid after all these years of scuffles, I might just run out of patience with the instigators and wipe em out. But then again, I'm waiting for an even bigger judgement....the God of Israel, (blessed be His name) will no doubt render the proper judgement at the proper time.

War Heros a dime a dozen

This week my husband and I went to Tiberias to pay our rent. Our landlord is a third generation Israeli whose great grandfather immigrated from Argentina. Our landlord owns an Argentine resturaunt. We've rented from this man for more than 4 years. Each month we go into the back room which looks like something out of a mafia movie, to pay our rent. Each time he is hospitable and friendly. This time, as always, our landlord greeted us, gave us drinks, and asked about our well-being. He asked how is our son in the army. I told him that the recent act of defense in the news; the killing of a criminal Palestinian, was done by my son's unit. He began to share war stories with us.

He told us that he'd served in three wars! in one of those wars, his was one of only seven tanks to survive out of over 40! He told us of many miracles he'd seen being in the wars, and how his sons and nephews now all serve. One recently surviving the Gaza war. He told us about one family member who is "crazy" because of the intense training. That of 300 men, only a handful are still mentally capable of regular life. They are so programmed that normal life isn't possible. Now as he told us all of this, his tone was much like talking about the weather. It wasn't extraordinary to him. It is real life. Normal life.

I've often noticed as I adapt to this new culture and people, that there is a hardness on the outside but a softness on the inside. The constant death and threat of death causes somewhat of a coarseness. Seemingly desensitized to life on the surface, but deeply sincerely compassionate to the core.

Our clothes washer broke recently and the repair man came to diagnose the problem. We also had a similar conversation. He told me of his service in the army, and his son who is now due in two weeks to also serve. He told me that he was in Miluiim during the Gush Katif evacuation. (Miluiim is reserve service required of every Israeli man for one month a year until they are old). He told me that he'd refused orders to expell Jews from their homes, from Jewish land. That instead he was sent to prison. I jokingly said, "well at least the food is better there." I also went on to tell him he was a hero, and that my son also would never "dismantle settlements" and I was proud of that. I imagine that many many more war heros in Israel go unnoticed. I am proud of them all. Most of all, I am proud of my son, who works hard to protect this country every night and every day.

M16's and Army Greens

Who would have thought that a Chicago born Jewish girl would end up living in an Amish community in TN? Our years in the Amish community were beautiful. Memories I cherish and hold dear in my heart. The stillness of nature, being surrounded by tens of thousands of acres of forest and wildlife. The sounds of birds singing, Clippity clop of horse drawn buggies trotting down our dirt road. The sound of the creeks rushing waters. A whipperwil bird sang me to sleep each night. The smell of the freshest air you could ever breathe. The beauty of lush green fields and rolling hills. The taste of fresh picked organic blueberries. The feel of a soft muzzle of a newborn goat or foal. The excitement to see that I could actually plant something and care for it, watch it grow and serve it on my table. Fresh (free) spring water, organic milk from our cows and goats. Canned and dehydrated or fresh produce from the sweat of our own brow.
My days activities were full of making homemade bread with fresh ground wheat, homemade yogurt, caring for animals, garden, children, and homeschooling. I loved my life. And now somehow I find myself in a whole new world many chapters ahead in my life's story. My Little House on the Prairie days are over. Six thousand miles away in a new culture, new language, a whole new life. It seems the honeymoon of living in Israel has worn off, and the reality that I aint in Kansas anymore has soaked in.
Many ask why? Why take your children to a war-threatened country in the middle east, far from your comfort zone? Why leave family, friends, a wonderful farm, and all that is familiar and beautiful? Words don't come easy to explain it. I could tell you that it is a commandment in the torah (first five books in the bible) to return to the place of our father Abraham. I could tell you that God put the desire in our hearts to go where we are needed. I could say that if we hadn't come, we might have been swallowed by a whale! I could say that sacrifice of things of our flesh help build character and faith. I could say that Israel is where it all began, and where it all will end. I have front row seats to see the Messiah enter our hurting and broken world.
Our life doesn't own us. We have a purpose in this world and we want to fulfill that to the fullest. Our physical life is short. I want to raise my children to make the most of their lives, wherever that may be, doing whatever they are called to do. We were created to make a difference for the better and I expect nothing less from them.
When our oldest son entered the IDF (Israel Defense Forces) and was put into a combat unit, I thought I'd fall apart. I cried for two full months. I missed him. I hated to see him suffer through basic training. I worried. Yet I trusted that this was God's plan. Soon after he entered the army, I gave birth to my seventh child. I would be up all hours of the night with the new baby, praying for safety for my oldest, who was likely awake guarding a border in (Samaria) the West Bank. My thoughts returned to the "perfect" life we'd left behind. I remembered my oldest son's days of catching crawdads in the creek, or his driving 4x4 in our back field. I wondered what would life have been like for him had we stayed in America. I looked at my tiny new baby and wondered what adventures lay ahead for him. Would he ever know the other side of the globe? Would he ever know the joy of fishing in the pond or riding horseback through the forest?
Having a son in the IDF brings a whole new chapter to our lives here. I wasn't expecting such a shift in our whole family's being. Everything changes. Our schedules revolve around when he comes home. And now I've become like many Israeli mothers, hanging the army green uniforms out on the line on Shabbat. When I drive down a road now and see army greens hanging out the windows or off the balconies, I have a new respect. I say a prayer over those soldiers, those uniforms, those families. I have a new perspective of my country.
The new baby is one now. He sees our oldest enough to know he is part of the family. One of the things I love about Israel is that they let the soldiers come home on weekends. Saves money for the army as they eat good at home, get their laundry done, and refresh their minds and bodies. One of the strange things about having my oldest come home with an M16 around his neck, is that the youngest sees this as something normal. The first thing he reaches for is that gun! There is something surreal to me to see my toddler reaching for an M16. Yep, our Little House on the Prairie days are over.