Celebrating in Darkness

The vice tightens. This long war feels endless while the hatred of Israel and Jews around the world deepens. I stopped watching the news as my cup has overflowed with tragedy and sorrow. I just can’t take any more devastation and brokenness. 

At first, I felt it was my obligation to know. But how much sadness can I hold inside? It has been six days since I have read a news update, yet I still know the situation is grim. I understand that Israel has become a pawn in the upcoming Democratic elections and is a pawn of Iran who nefariously glides its pieces around this fiery board in a game of death. 

Living in the north, I also know this war is getting hotter, closer, testier. Despite grim and forboding news, I insist on being outside. I plant kale, lettuce, and garlic out in the sunshine while above, groups of cranes fly over en route to Ethiopia. During this quiet and focused time, I feel like I have no worries in the world.

On Wednesdays, we are up with the sun harvesting, then off to market in a car packed with cartons of fresh organic veggies bursting with antioxidants and flavor: the perfume and taste of Eden. This is my oxygen, my energy, and my hope.

This month, we also greeted hope in a new and surprising way - the night before Chanukah, with smiles, happy tears, and song, we danced our son to the chuppah. It was beautiful to see a young couple building a new Jewish home in Israel and was just what we all so desperately needed. He and his bride were engaged and married within 27 days. Although some couples are postponing weddings due to the war, many more are rushing to tie the knot. 

They pulled off a beautiful wedding with over 250 people in no time at all. It was truly uplifting to celebrate in a time of darkness and everyone who came was euphoric. 

Some friends declined the invite, saying they were not in the right place to celebrate, but as the wedding drew nearer, I understood that in spite of our difficulties, we must celebrate life, every ounce of it. I will not take any celebration for granted and when there is so little of it around, I will embrace it. 

A rabbi came under the chuppah to sing a prayer for the safety of the hostages and soldiers. Those words emerged from a place deep in his heart and penetrated every person attending. There was not a dry eye in the place. 

Homemade gingerbread reads 'United we will win.'

Three weeks post wedding, I am honestly finding it hard to keep going day in, day out. Our nation cries and mourns its precious losses daily with funerals and shiva calls, newborn orphans, and young widows.

They talk about this going on until Pesach and they talk about another war front opening in the summer.

I do not know what will be and have zero vision for a peaceful end. I look at this unknowing as a test that forces me to reach inside deeper and deeper in a search for strength, love, and compassion.