Six Months

I remember the moment I found out about the Oct. 7 massacre.

It was right after kiddush, on Shabbat/Shemini Atzeret. I was talking with my husband and a few friends when our shul’s security guard walked in to tell us the news. 

“There was an attack in Israel,” he said. 

“How bad was it?” I asked, since I don’t check my phone on Shabbat.

“A lot of people were killed, and some were taken hostage,” he said. 

“Oh, no,” we said in unison. 

I hoped and prayed that the news was wrong, that maybe this was just another attack in a long line of Hamas attacks, that Israel was already defending itself and wiping out the terrorists, like it always did.

It wasn’t until after Simchat Torah ended the next day that I checked my phone and saw the extent of what had happened.

There were dead bodies all over the Nova campgrounds and in the kibbutzim. Heartbreaking footage of families sheltering for their lives. Videos of young people taken hostage by terrorists. 

The next month was filled with anxiety, nightmares, depression. Being unable to function. Feeling like I was living in “The Twilight Zone.”

And now, it’s been six months. Can you believe it?  

Six months of screaming into the void, wanting the world to validate what the Jewish people went through, but instead being met with violence and hate.

Six months of waking up and checking the news right away, seeing if the hostages were released, seeing if we finally eliminated Hamas.

Six months of fighting online, ignoring the antisemitic bots and trolls spewing hate in the comments section. 

Six months of being appalled by the media coverage, of wanting to write a thousand letters to the editor about all the inaccuracies and bias and errors. 

Six months of feeling scared that the fight would come to all of us in the Diaspora, and that we were the next target.

It has also been an uplifting, inspiring and encouraging six months in so many ways. 

Six months of feeling united as Jews, no matter our backgrounds or religious affiliation.

Six months of providing food to the soldiers and care packages to the displaced and thinking about them from afar.

Six months of fearlessly defending the Jewish people and giving each other hope and strength to soldier on. 

Six months of finding out who our real friends are and appreciating their love and support now more than ever.

And six months of praying and becoming closer to Hashem, because we acknowledge that He is in control, and He knows what He’s doing.

This is a time of mixed emotions, when we can simultaneously feel sad and anxious, but also joyous and hopeful. We must not let those negative emotions render us helpless. We must keep on fighting, supporting each other and praying for a better tomorrow.

We know that a brighter future is ahead. Just look at our history. All you have to do is read the Haggadah.

Pharoah and the ancient Egyptians tried to wipe us out. The odds were completely stacked against us. The Jews had lost hope, so much so that they stopped trying to have children.

Pharoah and the ancient Egyptians tried to wipe us out. The odds were completely stacked against us. The Jews had lost hope, so much so that they stopped trying to have children. It took Miriam convincing her parents to try to have another baby for them to eventually have Moshe. He took the Jewish people out of slavery and into the desert, where we received the Torah and were free to serve Hashem.

This Pesach, just past the six-month mark, you can replace Pharoah with Hamas or any number of antisemites – from Amalek to Isabella and Ferdinand to Hitler – who tried to wipe us out.

It’s important to remember our history to give us hope for the future. 

These past six months have been some of the most challenging of our time, but our redemption is coming. I know it. 

Next year in Jerusalem, my friends.

Kylie Ora Lobell is the Community Editor of the Jewish Journal. You can find Kylie on X @KylieOraLobell or Instagram @KylieOraWriter.