While I listened to a shofar-blowing outside on Rosh HaShanah afternoon, it dawned on me that the distant sound of fighter jets was totally unremarkable. No one even looked up.
Because that’s what this year has been like: booms, jets, and occasional ballistic missiles.
It’s been a long year. Each Shabbos singing Shir Hamalos before benching, wondering if this is the week Hashem will return the captives of our time. Every motzaei Shabbos, holding our breath as the news streams in, sometimes filling us with the greatest of joys, sometimes with the greatest of heartbreaks.
Battered yellow ribbons and banners of faces still hang, reminding us of those who have not yet come home, one year later. And many families have sent their fathers, husbands, brothers and sons off to war, yet again, one year later.
There’s a never-ending newsfeed of the world turning its back on Israel again and again and again. With protests to protect terrorists, terms like “war crimes” and “genocide” being redefined and abused, and the calls to stop military aid to Israel.
And yet while this year has shown us what pain really looks like, it has also shown us what unity, courage, and hope look like. Olim have poured into the country over the summer, in some way avenging those who have lost their lives over this past year. And Jews from around the world could not be stopped from visiting their homeland.
This land that they want to take from us is ours and this people that they want to hurt are thriving. Am Yisrael Chai, as the sign over the highway reads.
We are B”H very lucky in Beit Shemesh, where a siren is a rare occurrence, but rockets still rain down regularly in Northern Israel. We know our enemies surround us, armed to destroy. But we also know they won’t succeed.
You see, while politicians and officials have turned their backs on us, Hashem has embraced us. From a helicopter mysteriously falling out of the sky, to barrages of missiles from Iran causing no loss of Jewish life, to miracles our soldiers have experienced in the field… there is no shortage of evidence that we have Someone looking out for us. And with every successful mission of our forces, from blowing up beepers to perfectly executed assassinations, we know that that too is Hashem’s Hand.
On October 7, 2023, I sat on the floor in our mamad (shelter) unable to explain to my young children what was going on. One year later, on October 7, 2024, we sat in the same room, as sirens sounded outside - but this time, far less shaken. Because this year has taught us Hashem is guarding His land and His people.
There is still much to daven for –the soldiers, the injured, the hostages– and we are far from finished with this war. But one year later, it’s clearer than ever: Ain lanu al mi l’hishaen, ela al Avinu sh’bashamayim.
By Faygie (Orbach) Slotkin