Hello, old friends!
I know, I know, it’s been quite a while since you’ve heard from me, so let’s catch up. A lot has happened in the last few months.
For starters, I moved out of Russia. When the war broke out, I was 36 weeks pregnant. We really didn’t know what we were going to do. Initially, we thought we’d stay and see what happened — we really thought the fighting could be over in a week. Then, over the course of that week, things started to get scary. Airlines were pulling out of Russia every day and businesses were doing the same. If we waited and things got much worse and I was either even closer to 40 weeks pregnant or with a newborn baby, then I really wouldn’t be able to leave — or it would be much harder to do so. If we wanted to get back to the States, the time was right then.
So, after a few rescheduled flights, baruch Hashem, we got tickets going through Israel. The feeling I got when we touched down in the Holy Land was euphoric. When the passengers clapped as the plane landed, you could truly hear the relief everyone felt in that sound.
During that layover in Israel, which was just a couple of hours, I saw strangers come to welcome Ukrainian refugees with large, colorful signs and homemade cookies (photos below!). I’m always grateful to be Jewish, but in that moment, I felt it with a newfound depth.
There is so much more I could say about that experience, but we’ve got other things to discuss! (If you want to learn more about the journey from Russia, click here.) When we landed in America, we stayed with family for two weeks and in that time, found a house to rent, located a new daycare/school for my son and got settled with a new OBGYN practice. It was a whirlwind, but Hashem really took care of us.
Then, at 40 weeks and 3 days, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, who we named Noach Avraham (we call him Noah). He is the sweetest, cutest little ball of mush I’ve ever seen (besides my firstborn, Ezra, of course), and I am so grateful that he came into this world surrounded by family and friends here in America.
Since then, I’ve been spending my time getting used to new motherhood x2, helping Ezra adjust to being a big brother, settling into our community in New Jersey and trying to make new friends here, building our home, the day-to-day to-dos and really just processing all that’s happened.
(If you have more questions, comment below!)
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Now, in what seems like the blink of the eye and an eternity all at once, Elul is here again. This month on the Jewish calendar is a pretty momentous one. It’s the month leading up to the big holidays of Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Sukkot. It’s filled with a fluttering excitement as a new year is approaching — the same one I would always get when a new school year was about to begin. But it also includes a touch of fear. What will this year bring?
These days, it seems like every time I open Instagram or do some sort of news search, I’m met with a tragic attack in Israel or antisemitic stabbing somewhere in the States. Religion aside, there are shootings in America and devastating events around the world being reported constantly. If you want to stay informed, there’s rarely an escape.
It’s confusing to know what to do with that news. You want to feel and empathize with the deep pain around you. You don’t want to shut yourself off. But to fully feel everything that goes on would mean I’m lying in bed sobbing my eyes out all the time and that doesn’t seem like the right answer either.
Further, the more I hear about bad news, the more I fear it could happen to me. How do we live calmly, constantly hearing about tragedy? How do we continue on without worrying all day every day that it could happen to us?
I think that’s why there’s a bit of fear lurking when Rosh Hashanah is around the corner. What will our decree be?
Despite the anxiety, I’m not one to give into fear and just say, “Hey, okay, I guess this is where we’ll stay.” I need to try and find a way out of it — a place of comfort, something that can give me chizuk (strength) and rejuvenate me.
One recent Shabbat, I was starting to spiral, so decided I needed a serious dose of Torah. I picked up “Torah Wellsprings” by Rav Elimelech Biderman and the entire first page was dedicated to the need for the Jews to have hope.
Moshe Rabbeinu in Parshat Va’eschanan told the Jewish people not to be afraid, that Hashem would help them conquer Eretz Yisrael. Because of the hope he gave the Jewish people, he prayed with fervor for Hashem to permit him to enter the Holy Land. Rav Biderman writes, “Moshe Rabbeinu’s merits are countless. He brought the Torah down to the Jewish nation, he saved the nation many times with his tefillos and he led them out of Mitzrayim and through the desert for forty years. Who can compare to Moshe? Yet, he didn’t ask that Hashem answer his prayers because of all these merits. His only request was that Hashem answer his tefillos because he gave hope to the Jewish nation.”
It is through this that we see the importance of hope. We need to believe in others, work to instill hope in ourselves and know that a better future is coming. Yes, there are a lot of scary things going on out there, but there’s also so much good.
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I recently subscribed to a newsletter called “Nice News,” which has been helping me ingest positive news instead of just the scary. It’s been a practice in balancing out my mind to know that often, the good or inspiring news just doesn’t get reported.
Plus, I’ve become empowered by the fact that we’re not just passive bystanders in all of this. While we don’t have control over everything that will happen to us, we do have control of our actions and choices. On Tisha B’Av, I listened to a podcast (scroll down at this link to see it) with Maya Namdar and Dalia Oziel. In it, Maya talks about how she wakes up every single morning with an active mission to bring Moshiach. If she can do it after all she’s been through (you can learn more through the podcast), I thought I could definitely try too.
Every day, we really can make some sort of small difference and bring us all one step closer to Moshiach’s arrival. I used to think it was about doing something really big, but now I realize it’s about bringing your best self to the daily life that already exists for you. Creating shalom bayit in our homes, being kind and patient with our kids, reaching out to a friend, giving tzedakah, resolving a conflict, praying — there are so many ways we can add a brick to the third Beis Hamikdash. Adding that thought into my day creates so much more focus, and ultimately, hope, because it means I believe that a better world is coming and can come at any second.
So, this Elul, instead of being dragged down by the fear, anxiety and terror that is shared around me. I’m doing my very best in those moments to acknowledge it, feel the pain, and then choose hope — to know that redemption is coming and instead of just worrying, to put the pain into action.
Let’s bring Moshiach together this year.
xoxo, Alex
About Alexandra
