A Different Type of Preparation - How my stay in the hospital got me ready for Rosh Hashanah

What a difference a year makes.

Last year, at this time, as we approached the time for selichos, I was ready. I'd spent time going through Pachad Yitzchak on Rosh Hashanah, Rav Amiel's Yamim Noraim derashos, and some of Rav Kook's Orot HaTeshuva. I. Was. Ready.

This year, I did not prepare. I'd wanted to, but hadn't followed through as the trip to Israel I took with my son approached, and became a major focal point. I kept telling myself that I'd get around to learning and preparing (I sometimes mistakenly see those two as the same), but it didn't happen. The trip came along, went remarkably well, and I figured I'd get back into things during the week leading up to Selichos. I figured it would be a bit jarring to go from the high of trip to the mundane reality of "normal life", but I was ready for it. God had other plans for me.

If I thought that the difference between a trip to Israel and being home would be a bit challenging to navigate , going from my return home to the hospital in less than ten hours, was over the top. I had no time to come down from the high of the trip, or even to see each of our children who were home. Before I knew it, I was being rushed to the hospital by Hatzolah, as I writhed in pain.

When I was told that I had a large kidney stone, which would require me staying over in the hospital, and a medical procedure in the morning, I was rather devastated. I didn't have much time to process what made it so hard, but now that I'm home recovering, I do. 

Beyond sleeping in a noisy hospital room, shared by a stranger on the other side of a thin curtain (with a mouth like a truck driver, and a predilection for fantasy football), and the pain of the procedure, there was something deeply humbling in realizing how little I truly control. Having researched and planned the trip to Israel, I felt good knowing I could put together such a meaningful and fun experience for my son and I. Now, I wasn't even in control of my body, or even where I slept. As I've recovered, simple tasks feel overwhelming. I continue to feel somehow let down by my body. Beyond the physical healing, it will take me time to get past this. 

So here I am a year later, ready for Selichos in a very different way. Without the cerebral experience of opening a sefer, I'm aware of how little I control, and how much I depend on Hashem for everything. It's not the preparation that I would have chosen, but apparently it's the one I needed. 

Justice for David Gordon z"l- Putting an end to sexual-abuse in the Jewish community

There’s a famous quote from Golda Meir that “Peace will come when the Arabs love their children more than they hate us”. Perhaps we can paraphrase this quote in talking of sexual-abuse within our communities. Child abuse will end when we, as a community, love our children more than our institutions and those who work for, or run them.

Perhaps that sounds overly harsh to you, but if so, I challenge you to read this article by David Gordon z”l, the Israeli soldier whose life ended under circumstances that are being investigated. If your heart does not break, check yourself for a pulse. We rightfully cry over every soldier who is killed in war, and Gordon deserves no less. The fact that his enemies live among us and work at our institutions makes things even worse. “But what can we do?”, you might ask. It needs to be made clear to every person who works in our community that our number one concern is for the safety of our children, and that no institution, no matter how vital, and no individual, no matter how “choshuv” will be allowed to escape responsibility, both legally and financially. How can it be that there are heads of schools, shuls and institutions who ignored claims of abuse, who still hold their jobs? How can it be that money is donated to mosdos that covered up abuse within their midst? The fact that our community has, perhaps, gotten better at dealing with this, is not enough. The movement is too slow. Too often abusers hold onto their jobs, or are allowed to move on to another community, without facing criminal charges.

How many more boys and girls have to have their lives destroyed, unable to fight the demons and nightmares, while seeing their abusers walk around freely, before we get serious? How many more lives must be permanently altered before we take this issue of pikuach nefesh seriously? How many more families have to mourn for young people, who have so much to give and so much life to live, before we take this issue seriously?

Rosh Chodesh Elul begins (or has already begun) this evening. In less than six weeks we will be standing before HaShem confessing our sins, as individuals and as a collective. It is time to act so that we no longer have to say an “al-cheit” for standing idly by while lives were destroyed.