Fighting Depression

 

Yesterday, I fought depression most of the day. Although I find it exhilarating to think there’s a good chance that next week the Bibas family, whom I pray for every day, will be freed, there is a downside. Many, the majority, of the captives will not be freed. Among them are most probably Avinatan Ohr, my neighbor’s son and the friend of my son-in-law and daughter, since he is a thirty-one-year-old male.

The supposed equivalency of this young man to terrorists with blood on their hands in revolting. Knowing that Yahya Sinwar, the Hamas head who orchestrated the October 7^th Massacre, was released in a “prisoner exchange” eleven years ago chills me. What violence will the soon-to-be released terrors commit?

It was only by looking that this week’s Torah portion I was able to achieve some emotional equilibrium. The Jewish people are enslaved in Egypt and the wheels are set in motion for our release. Every day we thank G-d for our freedom but there’s an obvious question. Why were we put in slavery in the first place? The answer is to become a nation worthy of receiving the Torah.

I have no answers as to why the horror of Simchat Torah occurred last year.  However, if I believe that G-d is good, and I do, then I believe there is a reason. We may understand that reason in a few days, weeks, months years. We may not comprehend it until the world-to-come but I believe there is an explanation that will eventually come clear to us.

I’m still praying for the major miracle to bring everyone home. Please join me.

Shabbat shalom

Arson

 Yesterday, as the sun was going down and most were getting their menorahs ready for the first Chanukah light, my son and other volunteers were busy fighting an arson fire. That probably was not on any of your news sources but it's another form of Arab terror.

My Brothers I Seek

 

This past Shabbat was deemed The Captives’ Shabbat, inspired by the verse in our weekly Torah portion, Vayeshev, chapter 37, verse 16, where Yosef states, My brothers I seek. When I entered the synagogue Friday night I was struck by two things.

At every seat was a placard bearing the name of one of the captives and a brief description of them. Mine was Zachi Eden, the son of Dvora who was kidnapped from his home in Nahal Gaza. He’s married with three children and a soccer fan.

Leading the prayers was my youngest son who, along with his unit, was released from service last week and we were privileged to host him and his family for Shabbat. There are no bounds to my gratitude.

Yet, as part of me shed tears of thankfulness to have him back another part cried for all the mothers whose children are still not home. I’ve added Eden to my prayer list. We cannot any of forget them. Rather, we must storm the media and the gates of prayer to bring them home.  All of them.  

Stress

 

Last week, on the day following taking my youngest son back to Gaza and visiting the memorial site of the Nova festival, I found myself tied up in knots. I seriously considered going for counseling until I did a mental checklist. Despite my tension, I was fulfilling my obligations, relating well to my family and friends, and generally coping, albeit constantly tired.  I decided there was no point spending time and money to hear that I am dealing with stress. The whole country is dealing with stress. What I need to know is how to handle the stress. All this was on my mind as I made my way to the Kotel. Once there I had an excellent therapy session with The Master Analyst. It calmed me down and I plan to return for an additional session this week. That's how I plan to handle the stress.

Praying

 

When I first moved to Shilo we were a village of seventy families, and we all knew each other. As we’ve quadrupled in size that is no longer true, however we are all connected. Since the war began four of our Shilo boys were injured, all sons of old-timers. Thankfully all have recovered or are well on their way to recovery. And then on Shabbat another of our young men was seriously injured in a ramming attack and we’re praying for Ophir Ben Shoshana Zipporah.

Meanwhile the miracles continue. Thursday night my son’s tank ran over an incendiary device in Gaza. It exploded but somehow neither my son nor his comrades were injured.

Along with my prayers for Ophir are ones of thankfulness for my son. I pray that he and all the other soldiers remain safe. I pray for the hostages, the evacuees, and the injured to come home safe and whole. Please HaShem make it happen. Please make the most major miracle of all and defeat the evil.   

Sharing:

Yesterday was a hard day for me emotionally. Among other things, two of my sons returned to duty, one to Gaza, the other to the border. It’s nothing new. For fourteen months thousands of mothers, including myself, have had their children fighting in Gaza, Lebanon, and other hot spots. Why was I having a difficult time yesterday? Because we’re tired. The soldiers are tired. Their wives are tired. Their children are tired. Their parents are tired. Yet, we have no choice but to overcome our exhaustion and fight until we have total victory over evil and bring everyone home-the soldiers, the captives, the evacuees, and the injured. It’s not easy. Yesterday I turned to my faith, remembered all the good that I do have, and decided to move forward. Am Yisroel Chai. We want to stay alive!

We're Special

 

My middle child is back in the army stationed near Kissufim, one of the villages that was overrun and nearly destroyed by Arab terrorists on Simchat Torah last year. Friday he sent out this translated message on our family group: Anyone who needs challahs, cakes, bags of snacks, drinks, or toothpaste is happily invited to come here. The amount of donations doesn’t stop.

How heartwarming to read that even after 405 days of war, our soldiers are not being forgotten. What is even more heartwarming is that since many of the residents of Kissufim and other nearby towns have not yet returned home, most of those donations came from places as far as 60-80 miles away.

Of course, we’re a country full of Jewish mothers who kvell to feed our children in uniform. If only a chocolate chip cookie could win the war, we would have had total victory months ago.

On another note, that same son informed me that his unit enabled the transfer of truckload after truckload full of flour to Gaza last week. The transfer was supervised by both European and American observers. Is any other country in the world expected to feed its enemy? I don’t think so. Apparently the world knows that the Jewish People are special.