The Hostages are Released: Poignant Joy

Right up to the moment of the release of the 20 Israeli hostages, I thought the worst: Hamas would refuse to release them, or they would release only some of them, or there were fewer than 20 who were alive. It’s as if my heart refused to open, to experience the joy of the moment, because Hamas has a habit of disappointing us.

But the hostages were released.

We haven’t seen the names of the hostages publicized widely, but my deepest wish at the moment is that all the families of the hostages have been notified whether their loved ones have survived or not. I still fear for the well-being of those released, because physically and emotionally they must be devastated. I find myself praying ongoingly as I imagine their first breaths of freedom.

I can’t yet fully feel joy for the days ahead. There is so much to accomplish, so many challenges, so many unknowns. Will the Palestinians actively engage in rebuilding their future? Will Hamas stay out of the way? Will the IDF have to play whack-a-mole with Hamas as they insist on continuing the war on their own terms?

There are a couple of things that give me a ray of hope. One is that President Trump will be extremely effective on the Board of Peace, for multiple reasons. The other, I just learned, is that Centcom has a facility in Gaza to oversee the new security forces. That is very encouraging news. No U.S. soldiers will be fighting.

As Americans, we can only hope and pray that this is the dawn of a new Middle East: where Arab countries work together not only to rebuild Gaza, but to sever ties with terrorism; that those countries will find new reasons to align with Israel and build new and productive relationships; that the Middle East will experience a rebirth that would have been impossible to imagine just ten years ago.

These thoughts move me beyond poignancy and bring me sweet joy.