Imagine a sunset over the Sea of Galilee, with birds chirping and placid waves lapping the shore where Christians believe Jesus chose his apostles.

The nearby Mount of Beatitudes recedes into the evening twilight much as it did the day Christ taught parables on peace and love that have survived two millennia.

They're scenes that Ann Hansen surveys daily near her home northwest of Galilee, yet the peace she sees and feels has been more internal than external in recent weeks. She and her neighbors are still surveying the impact of weeks of rocket fire from Hezbollah militants.

And though her extended family in Utah has offered her and her family safe haven here, she said she has no intention of leaving her home, and her husband and children don't either.

Their faith in God is what holds them there, she said. "If I didn't have it I wouldn't survive. It's the underlying premise for why I'm here," she says, recalling a fascination with the land of Jesus that began at age 5 and pushed her across the Atlantic at age 19. She met a Jewish man, married him in Utah and has lived in the Holy Land ever since.

"I just felt I had come home for some reason. It's not an easy place to live, and financially it's extremely difficult. Either you fall in love with the country or you detest it here, but you don't remain neutral."

Hansen and her family are among the small handful of permanent residents who are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Their small congregation or "branch" has 60 members, only about half of whom actively participate. It's one of only three such congregations in Israel — the others in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv are composed mainly of temporary residents who come and go, she said.

Speaking with the Deseret Morning News on Wednesday, she said she welcomes the uneasy cease-fire peace, but knows it won't last. She sounds tired but secure in the life she has chosen. Though she's never been a soldier, her husband and two older sons have. Her 17-year-old daughter will soon enter the military, as all Israeli youths are required to do.

"We married in Utah right after the first war in Lebanon — we got engaged a couple of days before the first war broke out." He went to Lebanon for the summer, and when he was released, they came to Utah to get married, then returned to a small farming community where they've been for more than 20 years.

The violence is "something we've lived with for a very long time. ... It's hard to explain, but it's just part of our lives." She marks the passage of time with military landmarks.

Her oldest sons were born during the beginning of the first "intifada." Her daughter was a baby during the first Gulf War, when Scud missiles hit the country and the Hansens were wearing gas masks that they still keep handy. "Every couple of years we have these flare-ups, but they're usually much shorter in duration," about two weeks, and then things settle down for a while, she said.