As we approach Yom HaZikaron and Yom HaAtzmaut, we pause.

We remember our fallen soldiers—those who paid with their lives so that we can live in this country. We remember their families. And we remember the many who were injured—those who may never fully recover.

I write this with humility. I am not sure I am qualified to write anything at all at such a time. But there are a few words that stay with me:

Gratitude. Uncertainty. Not knowing.

First, gratitude. Gratitude to the soldiers. Gratitude to their families. Gratitude to those who gave everything so we can live here.

But alongside that is something more difficult—we don’t know.

We hear a report—eight soldiers injured—and we move on. We don’t know their names. We don’t know how they are doing. We don’t know how to even ask.

Just recently, I heard about a young man injured after the ceasefire in Lebanon—connected to people I know. It came up quietly in conversation. And then life carried on.

But how is he really doing? How many others are there like him?

We continue our lives—but maybe we are not meant to be so distant from it.

A World That Doesn’t Understand

We also live in a world that confuses our right to defend ourselves with something immoral.

We are a moral army. We don’t just drop bombs. We hesitate. We think. We try to act ethically.

And we pay for that—with the lives of our soldiers.

Yet the world turns it against us. Countries, leaders,........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)