My tears could water an entire garden

Renatia, a lovely woman from Rosh Pina, who spent the last two days sleeping in a bunker, decided to come out and sleep in her house.

She called this morning to share a song that she is in the process of preparing. During the conversation, she mentioned something about Germany, I asked if that is where she was originally from. When she answered, yes, I suggested that perhaps she would like to speak to my guest, Matthias. I was thinking that perhaps it would provide him support to speak to someone in his native language.

As Renatia and Mathias spoke, I lay on the couch, deep pain in my back, tears welling in my eyes and silent sobbing convulsions finishing the cycle.

I am crying because I feel pain. My inner voice says: "Yes, sweetheart, cry... it is so healthy to be human." I dont' know Matthias very well, so I wondered how he would respond to my tears. Habit made me want to stifle it.

"No. It is healthy. It is human. It is loving. Thank God you are a human being with feelings. Let the boy see your pain. Let the boy see who you really are, what you are honestly made of". Tears are coming to my eyes as I write.

I hurt. I hurt because of all the good that gets squished by the ignorance and fear of others who cannot see. And I do not intend to hate them back. That would only be continuing the cycle. It would be easy. I would have lots of support for it... but I would not feel satisfied.

So today, I cannot work. I am in pain. My back is tied in knots like those of the ancient olive trees in the biblical groves below my village.

I am grateful to the friend who asked me to consider what is even more powerful than love.... compassion. He suggested that I sit with this pain, and find my compassion within it.

So , I am doing this. It brings the ancient pain of generations of dissappointed failure and fear and isolation to the surface.

Thank God for my opportunity to heal. I promise to use every bit of this pain of war to resolutely end my inner war - compassionately.

Love is stronger than fear or hate, or my isolated aloneness. Thank God I have someone here to give to. Thank God for what I have to give. Thank God for the war that is teaching me peace. May I be able to share this with others.

Amen.