We live in a world where a thirteen-year-old’s throat was slit in her bed.

We do.

We live in a world where a day later, a few hours before the Shabbat began, a father of ten was gunned down, brutally murdered in front of his wife and two of his children.

We do.

But what I find absolutely terrifying is that we live in a world where the routine of our nation, AS A WHOLE, does not seem to be interrupted. Don’t get me wrong. We may have added an extra chapter of Tehilim (psalms) after prayers, we may have read or written an expressive post online, but what has consciously changed in the heart and soul of the Nation as a whole? Our lives may have been temporarily shattered, but somehow we are under the impression that the collective WE has woken up.

Yes, we are hurting. While watching/listening to this week’s eulogies we cried rivers. We could have sworn that the whole world was about to turn over. That WE would be the ones to turn the whole world over.

It’s now a few days after, and the righteous souls of the world continue to wait for us Jewish people to remember that which we cried over for 2000 years.

We prayed not only to return home, we prayed to live our lives in the only place where we could be true to our inner nature. We prayed that when we would eventually come home, we would feel at home in our home.

Does anyone ‘feel at home in our home’ when you read the first few lines of this piece?

In the past, we were under the assumption that being awake was having the courage to stick to routine. Wash away the blood. Sweep up the broken glass. No, they won’t stop our daily lives. Let’s build some houses.

This old tune is rarely sung today, however it’s infectious echo from the past hovers over our precious today and tomorrow.

Before offering additional temporary solutions- let’s once and for all burst open the illusion of the routine game, as painful as it may be.

Only then do we stand a chance of remembering what it is we cried for.

Only then do we have a right to feel at home in our home.