Oh, how time flies …
Waking up from childhood into the reality I live in…
Amen, amen, amen for my kids…
Even from the abyss, even from the sky
I’ll drop everything to be there
Just embrace each other
May you be healthy forever, Amen
(Hanan Ben Ari, Amen al Hayeladim)
It is early morning, or is it night? All is quiet, a heavy deep silence. From somewhere I hear the cries of a baby. And then once again, absolute stillness. Surrounded by darkness, I try to get out of bed, but am met with a concrete slab.
I reach out my hand, and touch its coldness. Confused, I try a different direction. The feeling of cardboard. Am I above, or below?
I drift back into a sea of calm confusion, where darkness meets dreams and fog. The last I recall was a chaos of alarms and explosions, the roar of warplanes. And then, blackness…. And now, I reach out again. Yes, there is definitely a slab of concrete here.
In the midst of total darkness, one ray of light is coming in from somewhere. I focus on the beam, its whiteness, purity, hope.
I attempt to rise again from a different angle. Here the path is clear. I sit up, and reality takes the place of bewilderment. I am in the safe-room.
Light is streaming in through a crack in a steel-covered window.
All is silent, peaceful, calm. A serene, absolute stillness and quiet.
For You saved my soul from death, even my feet from stumbling, to walk before God in the light of life (Psalms 56:14).
I check the news. Apparently cluster missiles exploded above us in the sky last night. A haze of disbelief mixes with gratitude and bewilderment.
Night’s fog has lingered for over two years now, unrelenting. Once again we are in a time of turmoil. Night blends into day, hope and fear are intertwined, and we find ourselves suspended between faith and confusion.
And yet, despite the surrealistic quality of our life, there is an awareness of the miraculous. Of the Divine blessing of our vey existence, of our waking in the morning to streaming sunshine.
For we are now ending the month of Adar. The month that is a preamble to a new beginning, as it is the last month of the year, the last month before our liberation from slavery in Egypt. It is traditionally the month of joy, of transition from winter to spring. “When Adar enters, we increase in joy" (Taanit 29a).
The word “Adar" itself contains the word “dar" which means “dwell". In this month, this year, the presence of the Lord is almost physically palpable.
“Lord, You have been our dwelling place in all generations." (Psalms 90:1)
We will yet rise. We will yet celebrate the daily miraculous. If only we can maintain our inner strength and joy. Despite.
I prepare a warm cup of coffee, and step out onto the porch. Gloom and darkness are instantly dispelled by the softness of early morning’s light. Flowers are cheerfully blooming in their pots. Merry bursts of pink, orange and red. Optimistic, faithful, they apparently waited patiently, confidently, for my return after a week’s absence.
The ground in which they are planted is absolutely dry. And yet. Not a single flower has wilted. Happily, confidently, in a glorious profusion of lively color, they patiently awaited greeting the sustenance which surely will arrive.
Would I could share their absolute certainty. The patience to wait for the salvation which certainly awaits us, if only we have the faith, the calmness, the fortitude.
We are now in the time between Purim and Passover. Both holidays begin with the letter “p" which in gematria is 80, symbolizing power “Ben Hei Hei would say: According to the pain is the gain. He would also say…Eighty for power" (Ethics of the Fathers 5:21-22).
There is an inner strength, an inner wisdom which provides one with power. The power to endure, the strength to bear life’s challenges with faith and hopefulness. With the inner knowledge that, one day, Life will be as it could be, as it should be. A life of beauty, joy, kindness. If only….
As we read each Passover in the Haggadah, as we will soon read once again. “In each and every generation they rise up against us to destroy us. And the Holy One, blessed be He, rescues us from their hands."
This seems to be stated as a fact. As the river flows toward the sea, as the sun shines each morning, as waves roll in and out on the seashore.
In every generation there are those who try to destroy us.….
We are living through that time again, today. A time when our existence is once again threatened. As faith battles fear, and courage battles the desire to just go to sleep and wake up in a different world. A world of kindness and respect, a world of peace and serenity. A world where we can just calmly awake in the morning and admire the Lord's Handiwork. Delight in the murmur of water as it flows in the stream. The lively music of birds singing. The magic of the flowers. The touch of the wind, drifting down from Heaven as a touch of angel’s wings, reminding us of the Holiness of Creation.
“One thing I ask of the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life…" (Psalms 27:4)
Perhaps that is our challenge, right now. To maintain a touch of the angelic, of purity and holiness, in the midst of chaos and destruction. To keep alive the knowledge of the sacred spark which expresses itself daily in Life’s revelation, in the existence of our personal selves, in the existence of Israel. To appreciate the miracles of Divine protection we witness daily.
We cannot offer a promise of peace and tranquillity to our children and grandchildren. We can only promise them the strength, the faith, the courage. The collective caring of the people of Israel for each other. We strive together toward a world of holiness, of goodness, in which the essence of the Divine will be expressed, not only in the beauty of Nature, but in our lives as Man.
“Happy is the man whose strength is in You; in whose heart are the highways. As they pass through the valley of tears, they make it a place of springs…."(Psalms 84:6-7)
It is nighttime now, as I conclude writing this, and a lone bird is singing. I wonder at her confusion. For the call of the bird is usually heard at dawn, not at night. But yes, she is unmistakably singing. A persistent, insistent song of hope. A cheery voice in the midst of a black, ominous night.
I listen, and my spirit fills with the song of life, with a prayer for Peace and a return of the simple joy and beauty of Life.
Perhaps I will return now to sleep. Not in fear of what the night will bring, but with a hope and a prayer.
Another rocket alert is sounding.
I remember the days of long ago; I meditate on all Your works and consider what Your Hands have done.
I spread out my hands to You…
(Psalms 143:4-8)
May we awake in the morning to find that our prayers have been answered.