Coming from a quiet rural part of Texas, where the cows graze the meadows, and the fireworks on the 4th of July were the most exciting event of the year, my childhood in the 90s knew the calm of a sovereign country, one of the greatest in the world.
Soon, my family and I would exchange the Bible Belt for the actual land of the Bible and live out our Jewish identity in our ancestral homeland – where Joshua conquered the falling walls of Jericho, and King David slew Goliath with only a smooth stone and a sling. I was about to join the land of invincible heroes, a nation of victors whose enemies were as dust beneath our feet, and accusers were personally dealt with by God Himself. With a poetic, idealistic view and a few suitcases in hand, my family and I caught a red-eye to Tel Aviv, weary but with a sense of meaning.
To my cruel disappointment, instead of a land flowing with milk and honey, we received a proper ‘Allahu akbar’ welcome as the Second Intifada...
Become a Member
-
Read all member content
Get exclusive in-depth reports from Israel.
-
Get exclusive in-depth reports from Israel
Connect with Israel, right from your home.
-
Lift up the voice of truth and hope
Support Jerusalem-based Zionist journalism.
Already a member? Login here.
