#EyalGiladNaftali

So here we are, more than a week in. We use shorthand now. Mention “the three boys,” or even just “the boys,” and everyone knows what you are talking about. Eyal, Gil-ad, Naftali, the names roll off our tongues like that of our own children. We check the news for updates, but the days are long and new information in short supply. The most “heartening” thing I’ve read so far is that “the boys are likely still alive.” And supposedly, the government knows more than they are telling the public. I hope that’s true, and that it means we are nearing a resolution and a homecoming.

The situation consumes us while we continue to live our lives. Perhaps this is what it feels like to live with chronic pain. Am I actively thinking about the boys every waking moment? I admit, no. But does a moment go by when they are not on my mind? Absolutely not. Sometimes it’s in the back of my mind; other times, it rushes to the forefront, slamming into me and leaving me breathless. It happens often when I’m with my own children. I’m listening to them talk about their day, ruffling their hair, and it hits me once again that there are three families who have been brutally deprived of these opportunities, these small moments we take for granted.

And sometimes the sucker punch comes out of nowhere. I may be washing dishes, driving in the car, in the middle of work, thinking about something else entirely, and suddenly: “They’re gone, and we don’t know if they are okay. How can we go on?” If I wake up in the middle of the night, I immediately reach for my phone to check the websites, hoping to read good news, devastated anew when there is none.

The three families have become pillars of strength and inspiration to the country, propping us up while we feebly try to support them. Any time they speak to the press, they only have words of hope for their children and praise for the IDF. Though I cannot—and cannot let myself—imagine the unendurable pain they must be experiencing, they remain resolute and steadfast in their faith.

So our feeling of helplessness continues. The initial shock is giving way to a numbing, constant pain, a leaden feeling that’s becoming part of us. We are doing everything we can, while knowing it’s not enough, that they are still not home.

In the meantime, we will continue to pray that Eyal, Gil-ad and Naftali are returned to us quickly, so that their families—and the nation—can embrace them once again.

 

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If you wish to donate to organizations supporting the "chayalim" (Israeli soldiers) in their search for the kidnapped teens, here are some organizations coordinating the effort:

 

Yashar Lachayal 

 

 

 

 

 

Israeli English-news websites with full coverage of "Operation Brother's Keeper" include: