Dear Am Yisroel ❤️
Many people have asked me what it’s like to live in Israel during such turbulent times.
Things seem to be worsening, becoming harder to endure. The pain our brothers and sisters experience is indescribable, tangible, insurmountable. How do we continue? Where does our strength come from?
Here’s the truth. My heart breaks for those who aren't here to witness firsthand what Israel has become during this unbelievably difficult yet exceptionally beautiful time.
Israel is a different country now, overflowing with love, unity, acceptance, bravery, sacrifice, and most importantly, an unwavering belief in Hashem.
Yes, there is a never-ending sense of fear and desperation in the air. We fear for the safety of our soldiers and hostages, and we desperately want to bring our brothers and sisters home. There is fear of the war escalating as tensions rise in both the North and the South, with our heroic soldiers preparing for any challenges. The consistent feeling of dread and terror over possibly losing more of our brave brothers and sisters who selflessly fight for our nation's safety is palpable. Our hearts are breaking for those who have lost so much and suffered so terribly.
However, there is also a tremendous feeling of unity. One might think that after nine months, the initial desire or ability to help would wane, that people would run out of money to give or space to host strangers who have been evacuated. One might think overseas support would dwindle, but that is not the case. Not for the Jewish nation. Our innate desire to help one another, the unity among our people, and the desperate need to lift each other’s spirits remain as strong as they were on October 7th. In Israel, it still feels like October 7th; the rawness of what took place and the desire to hold one another remain intense. We have shed our outer judgments and truly embraced the spirit of being "like one man with one heart."
There is an overwhelming sense of support and a collective effort to get through this together as a nation. Despite the ongoing hardships, we are holding each other up and not letting go. The desire and yearning to connect with Hashem is stronger than ever. The incredible bravery of those who have lost loved ones, combined with their immense faith in Hashem, sustains us.
So yes, it’s terrifying, and we want it to end. But the profound beauty of our nation far outweighs the evil of those trying to destroy us. This is how we know, without a doubt, that the Jewish nation will prevail, emerging more united and stronger than ever before.
To answer the question, where does our strength come from? Our strength comes from accepting that we don't and never will fully understand. It comes from surrendering to Hashem and begging for His support as we navigate this painful and difficult time. Our strength lies in our deep, unwavering faith that there is a bigger picture and that Hashem knows what He’s doing. Our strength comes from our love for one another and our immense desire to ease each other’s pain. It’s in showing up for each other, even for those we've never met. It's in the relationships we've formed and the unity we now possess. Without these strengths, the pain would be too great to bear. We need to hold onto them tighter than ever before.
So, what’s it like to live in Israel during a time like this? It’s the most incredible honor. It’s an incredible honor to witness this nation come together and fight with every ounce of strength to protect, love, and support one another. I would not trade being here and raising my children in Israel for anything. Being a Jew, being Israeli, and being a part of Am Yisrael are three of life’s greatest gifts.
May we all merit to witness and dance in celebration at the safe return of our hostages and soldiers and the coming of Moshiach.
Written by: Michali Caplan
About the author:
The writer is the moderator of The Beauty of the Jewish Nation social media groups, where she shares inspiring stories of life in Israel during war. She lives in Ramat Beit Shemesh with her husband and five children.
