Palestine aka. Israel

Sunday morning. I reach for Carl’s hand. At night he sleeps with a wooby. It is a kind of modern day binky. Really just a very old, tattered dew rag.

insert image of dew rag here:

Anyway, I reach for Carl’s right hand which is always clinging to the wooby at night so I usually just curl my finger under his finger although I am reaching for his hand to quell my thoughts.

This morning I was thinking about how the stock market in the USA closes down on Fridays and stays closed until opening on Monday morning generally. It was pointed out to me that Israel or Zion or whatever that un-boardered group is really worthy of being called, them, they usually lately wait until Friday to start striking and this past few days they sent a strike into Iran.

Most times I panic and I can’t even think of what Iran is called.

(EEE Rahn) How hard is that? But in my mind I am so afraid of what all the state of deep discontent in that region means for the world.

I strive hard not to wish death on bad people. We’ve been taught that bad people should die. With death penalties and war and you name it. Home invasion? Shoot em. Some kid pisses you off? Pume pume!  You shoot them with the finger gun.  Someone rapes your wife? Bang off their head with a gun.

So when it comes to my Holy land of Israel I strive hard to visualize my Christian Great Grandfather who when there in 1937 when it was named Palestine, went to the Holy land as a minister, a Methodist minister.

I also think about Jerusalem. I think about all the amazing places that are real and part of the Bible stories that guide me to feel faith, grace, hope, love and forgiveness. And I don’t want this place obliterated by nuclear weapons.

I pay taxes sometimes. Not always because mostly I am struggling to make ends meet. But taxes are being gobbled up by other countries. Why? Who is in charge of the American money wallet that sends big amounts of black money and what not across boarders?  Are we protecting the Holy land?

I said: Are. We. Protecting. The. Holy. Land. I ask you.

This is the day of rest and unrest. Today I will work for awhile. Under the table. But I will still be paying an Ashkanazi to live under the rental roof here in my American home state. So far I have paid her enough of my hard earned, untaxed money to have bought this house. So in a round about way I am still supporting the interest of Zion. Darn.