In the blink of an eye

My eyes had just closed when the loudest, longest stream of aircraft I have ever heard flew over and shook our entire house. I sat up in bed.

“Something big is happening,” I told my husband. “I think we are attacking Iran.”

An hour later, the entire country was awoken by an “EXTREME ALERT” on our phones and told to enter safe and protected spaces.

Within a few seconds, we were thrown into a new, unknown and daunting reality.

Throughout the ups and downs of dating, during dry spells or after painful breakups, my father would always remind me that “ישועת ה’ כהרף עין” – “The salvation of God is like the blink of an eye.”  In a moment, life can turn around, and the very thing that seemed beyond our grasp just a minute ago can suddenly be within reach.

My father’s words gave me strength.

One night, years ago, after a particularly difficult date, I called my parents in tears, full of despair, frustration and pain. The phone rang as soon as I hung up. A friend asked if I was available, as a young man who had caught my attention at an earlier point now wanted to know if I was interested in a date. My spirits were instantly lifted, and my life forever changed.

Sometimes, we experience the darkest part of night before the new day begins.

The past week in Israel has been an exhausting whirlwind. With little sleep, we have done our best to absorb the steady flow of news and developments while navigating our ever-changing emotions: immense fear when sirens sound, elation over our numerous achievements, devastation over the loss of life and vast destruction, hope and excitement about the future of our country.

The pace at which things are changing is terrifying and exhilarating, all at once.

People have been killed, entire apartment buildings are gone, lives have been changed forever. And at the same time, our eyes are beholding images from Iran that we never thought we would see. The achievements of the IDF are beyond what even they themselves seem to have imagined.

Ever since we made aliyah 14 years ago, the threat of Iran has always loomed in the background. How many days will we be locked in our safe room? Will thousands be killed? How awful will it be? Will Israel survive?

For the first time, we have allowed ourselves to consider what life may look like if we were to awaken to a day when Iran is no longer the regional menace it has been.

Come what may, it has been a gift to remember how quickly a situation can evolve and how crucial it is to never lose hope.

If God wants to save us, He can do so in the blink of an eye.

Whether or not we are worthy of that salvation, however, might depend on how we use our eyes.

In a mishna in Avot (2:9), we are told that having an “עין טובה” – “a good eye” – is sound advice for those who want to live an upright life.

“A good eye” is usually interpreted as the ability to see the good in others, to give those around us the benefit of the doubt and to maintain a positive outlook.

But I would suggest that “a good eye” might also describe someone who can see the bigger picture, someone who has clear vision, someone who can see beyond what is in front of them, someone who observes life through a wider frame and with a broader sense of perspective.

In this week’s Torah portion, we read about the twelve spies who were sent by Moses to scope out the Land of Israel. Ten of them come back with a frightening report:

“The Land through which we have passed, to spy it out, is a land that devours its inhabitants. All the people that we saw in it were huge. There we saw the Nephilim, the sons of the giant from among the Nephilim; we were like grasshoppers in our eyes, and so we were in their eyes.” (Numbers 13:32-33)

The eyes of those ten spies were only able to see what was before them. They lacked the ability to see anything beyond that moment. Their fear prevented them from stepping back and taking a wider, deeper look.

Only Joshua and Caleb pause to breathe deeply and assess the situation. They tell the people:

“If God desires us, He will bring us to this Land and give it to us, a Land that flows with milk and honey.” (Numbers 14:8)

Joshua and Caleb are able to see past the moment and know that if God wants it to happen, the Jewish people will thrive in the Land that is “very, very good.”

Already in the days following October 7^th, when most of us could only see the striking devastation all around, I was struck by a few, special individuals who somehow could see more.

“Something big is happening,” they told us.

“There is a bigger story playing out here. God has big things in store, if we should merit them. We should not minimize the pain of right now, but at the same time, we should try to see beyond it. What we are currently living through is only one, small piece of the picture.”

At the time, it was hard to appreciate their outlook. Our eyes were blurry. But their vision was clear.

The last few days in Israel have reminded us again of what a privilege it is to live here. We are a generation that has merited to see enormous miracles: the birth of the State, the flourishing of its people, the successes of its small but powerful army, the vast accomplishments of a driven and resilient society, the incredible ways in which Israelis are there for each other and come together in times of need.

With prayers that we continue to see the best in each other, and that we find the strength to continually view our current circumstances through a wider lens.

This war is not yet over; there might be difficult days ahead. But with God’s help, we remain deeply hopeful that big and meaningful things can happen.

All within the blink of an eye.