The Blogs: Light and Darkness: A Father’s Reflection on Duty

This past year has brought immense suffering and grief, especially in the aftermath of the terror unleashed on October 7th. The horrors have been overwhelming — families torn apart, people of all ages taken as hostages into Gaza by our relentless enemies, soldiers wounded or killed defending our homeland. The stories continue to unfold daily, and the pain lingers, with so many lives still in the balance.

In the midst of this turmoil, I find myself confronting a deeply personal mix of emotions. Yesterday morning, our son left for his third tour of duty this year. He, like so many others, is stepping forward to defend our people, even as we prepare for the joy of his upcoming wedding. I am filled with pride in his commitment, yet equally weighed down by concern for his safety.

As a parent of eight children — five of whom are sons, all of whom have served Israel in some capacity — I’ve often wrestled with a balance of pride and fear. It’s a moment of extraordinary tension, knowing that while we pray for the safety of our loved ones, we must also confront the harsh reality that danger is ever-present. This time, the fear isn’t abstract; it isn’t about someone else’s child. It’s my son.

The complexity of these emotions mirrors the confusing times in which we live. The prophet Zechariah spoke of a period where light and darkness would coexist, where clarity would elude us, leaving us disoriented:

“וְהָיָה יוֹם-אֶחָד, הוּא יִוָּדַע–לֹא-יוֹם וְלֹא לָיְלָה; וְהָיָה, לְעֵת עֶרֶב יִהְיֶה-אוֹר”
“And it shall come to pass in that day, that there shall not be clear day nor dark; but it shall come to pass, that at evening time there shall be light.” (Zechariah 14:7)

We seem so close to a time of great light, yet still enveloped in deep darkness. On the one hand, we witness tremendous acts of unity and resilience — Israelis from all walks of life standing together, embracing their heritage, and supporting one another. On the other hand, the brutality we face daily reminds us that no one is immune from the reach of evil.

Even our national leadership appears unified with a newfound clarity and resolve, determined to defeat our enemies once and for all, irrespective of international opinions and the wavering attitudes of world leaders. In this moment, our mission as a people is finally clear — to protect our future, no matter the cost.

Miracles, large and small, remind us that despite the darkness, there is still hope. Two barrages of hundreds of deadly missiles were launched into Israel, yet miraculously, almost no one was harmed. Tragically, in each attack, an Arab was among the casualties. These miracles, however difficult to comprehend, offer glimmers of light even in the most trying times.

As I reflect on these challenges, I offer this prayer for my son and for all those who are serving to defend our people:

יִשְׁמֹר צֵאתוֹ וּבוֹאוֹ מֵעַתָּה וְעַד עוֹלָם. שֶׁיִּגָּלֶה רַחֲמִים עַל כָּל חַיָּלֵינוּ, יִשְׁמְרוּ מִכָּל צָרָה וּפֻגָּעָה, וִישֻׁבוּ בְּשָׁלוֹם לְבָתֵּיהֶם.
“May he be watched over in his going and coming, from now and forever. May mercy be shown to all our soldiers, protecting them from harm and injury, and may they return safely to their homes.”

I close with this fervent hope: May our son return safely, and may we stand together at his chuppah in six weeks’ time, surrounded by family, gratitude, and the blessings of peace.