My daughter finished her year of seminary this week and was supposed to fly back on Tuesday and spend a few days at home before jetting off to Texas to run a Chabad day camp there.
She’d said her goodbyes, packed her bags, and was excited to come home, eat her favorite foods, hang out with her family, and adjust to being back stateside.
But with Israel launching Operation Rising Lions to save itself from a nuclear attack, all flights in and out of the country have been canceled.
So now, instead of preparing for the camp in Texas that begins on Sunday, my daughter is stuck. Grounded in the Holy Land.
Nearly every hour, she calls me with a fresh escape plan. She’s like a one-woman Mossad escape unit.
“Tatty! What if I take a boat to Cyprus?”
“Maybe I’ll cross into Egypt and fly out from there?”
“I heard people are flying from Amman, Jordan!”
“Tatty, I found a guy who knows a guy who knows a camel … ”
And honestly, I get it. She has my DNA. I also wouldn’t be able to sit still. I’d be on full-on shpilkes, pacing up and down the hallway, trying to book flights, buses, camels … whatever it takes.
And she’s not alone.
Tens of thousands of people are stuck in both directions. While thousands are trying to leave Israel, thousands more are trying to enter. There’s something uniquely Jewish about the coordinated chaos going on!
But at moments like these, when WhatsApp groups are exploding with flight hacks, border updates, “Someone heard from a cousin of a friend who managed to leave through Greece,” and “Tatty, do you think I can ride a bike to Istanbul,” we have to stop and remember: We are not in control.
There is only one pilot in this crazy journey, and it’s not El Al.
It’s G-d.
He and He alone knows exactly where we’re supposed to be, when we’re supposed to get there, and whether it involves four layovers, a border checkpoint, lots of kosher snacks, or a camel ride.
And as desperate as she is to leave, it seems crystal clear that G-d wants my daughter to stay in Jerusalem right now. Why? That, we can’t know. Perhaps there was a spiritual task she was supposed to fulfill this year that she hasn’t yet completed. Perhaps someone there needs her. Perhaps she needs to go through this experience. And maybe, just maybe, Moshiach is coming today and she won’t need a flight at all! She’ll already be exactly where she needs to be.
So until then, we wait, we pray, we check the news, we refresh the airline app, we exchange memes, we stay in touch.
And we laugh, because sometimes, the only thing more unpredictable than war is a determined 19-year-old Jewish girl with Wi-Fi, a dream, and a now half-unpacked suitcase.