A Glimpse of Redemption After Two Years in Captivity

Outside, the cool air has finally swept away the haze and humidity that lingered for months, bringing with it the feeling of a fresh beginning. The scent of freshly cut s'chach still hangs in the streets, while the last traces of Sukkot are quietly packed away, making room for a new routine.

A new season leaves a new taste in the air.

Children return to school with pounding hearts and the purest hopes. Mothers return to their schedules, carrying countless errands and even more silent prayers, asking simply that their children be happy, healthy, and blessed.

And then there are all the promises we made to ourselves that would begin "after the holidays": the diet, the exercise routine, and the evening walks.

I have not counted myself, so I cannot verify it, but someone recently told me that from Rosh Hashanah until now we have celebrated thirty three Shabbat and holiday meals.

Thirty three times we stood in the kitchen, pulling out meat and chicken, onions, garlic, and vegetables. Thirty three times we sautéed, chopped, roasted, baked, simmered, stirred, frosted cakes, leveled layers, piped decorations, and prepared festive meals. Countless hours spent in the kitchen.

I do not know about you, but in my home, the kitchen and I have practically become one over these past weeks, like Siamese twins. I hardly remember what life looks like without it. Perhaps it is time to rediscover that.

A Miracle That Defies Explanation

Alongside all the prayers, the festive meals, the holiness, and the spiritual gifts of these precious weeks, something happened that none of us can fully explain. Against every expectation, all of the living hostages who had endured two years in Hamas' tunnels were finally released.

How could our cruel enemy surrender the most valuable bargaining chip it possessed? All of it.

Nothing short of a miracle.

I think about someone emerging after two years in captivity, suddenly free to eat what they want, see whom they want, and simply live again. It feels like the words of Psalm 126 coming to life: "We were like dreamers... Then our mouths were filled with laughter."

Perhaps this is Hashem allowing us to glimpse, if only for a moment, what redemption feels like.

One day, we too will be freed from the inner captivity that binds us, from the pain and sorrow that define exile. Suddenly we will understand what our sages meant when they taught, "Only the servant of Hashem is truly free." Real freedom. The quiet certainty that Hashem alone is King, that there is nothing besides Him.

"On that day Hashem will be One, and His Name One." The Hebrew word echad, "one," shares the same numerical value as ahavah, "love."

How much love, peace, and reassurance are contained in the knowledge that Hashem is One. How comforting it is to know that everything comes from Him, and that He holds the entire world securely in His loving hands.

The Soul Cannot Always See the Whole Picture

There is something about the human soul. When we are living through a great upheaval, we cannot fully understand it. The soul folds inward, narrowing its focus to survival.

Hours spent with people in my therapy clinic tell the story of an emotional exile unlike anything I have witnessed before. Twists and burdens of the soul that words can barely describe. So often the suffering is invisible: anxiety, obsessive thoughts, painful relationships, and inner anguish that feels impossible to contain.

Last week, my daughter looked at me and said, "Mom, when Mashiach comes, you won't have a job anymore."

I smiled and answered, "I hope you're right. I cannot wait to speak the language of redemption instead of the language of exile. To sit and learn Torah with my sisters from every part of the Jewish world instead of spending my days treating the wounds of exile."

When redemption comes, we will look back in disbelief at the world we lived in. Only after leaving captivity does a person begin to understand what the soul could never process while it was still trapped inside it.

Everything will suddenly fit together, like the final pieces of a thousand piece puzzle. You struggle over it for so long, and then, in a single moment, the last pieces fall into place and the entire picture becomes clear.

Did You Anticipate Redemption?

Our sages teach that after one hundred and twenty years, one of the questions every person will be asked is: "Did you anticipate the redemption?"

Not, Did you believe? Not, Did you hope? Not even, Did you wait? But, Did you anticipate it?

Anticipation is reserved for something sweet. No one is commanded to eagerly anticipate something that may ultimately harm them. If Hashem asks us to anticipate redemption, then it must be the sweetest and most beautiful reality imaginable.

I recently heard that a special kitchen was established at Tel Hashomer, where chefs from across the country volunteered to prepare whatever the newly released hostages wished to eat.

It struck me as a powerful parable.

Perhaps Hashem sent us this image to steady our hearts. To remind us that redemption is drawing near. Just hold on a little longer.

And then, suddenly: "Blessed is He Who releases the captive."

Mashiach will come.

And we, too, will be embraced from every direction. Every word we utter will be heard with love. The Creator Himself will wipe away every tear. He will nourish our hungry souls with exactly what they need.

Mashiach will listen to every horror we endured throughout this long exile. He will understand us to the deepest corners of our hearts. He will restore clarity after generations of confusion. He will tell us:

"It is over. You are home. There are no more tunnels. There is no more Hamas. There are no more captors. The nightmare has ended. You are safe. The world has changed. You are free to live. You are free simply to be."

The beautiful thing about goodness is how quickly we grow accustomed to it.

What Sustains a Person in Captivity?

In the meantime, one question remains: What gave the hostages the strength to survive those endless days underground? What kept their souls from breaking?

More and more testimonies continue to emerge.

Matan Angrest put on tefillin and prayed three times a day.

Bar Kuperstein repeatedly whispered, "Thank You, Creator of the World," and presented Israel's Defense Minister with a bracelet engraved with the words, "I am only in the hands of the Creator of the World."

Former hostage Segev Kalfon shared, "My dream was to shout Shema Yisrael in front of the terrorists."

Rom Braslavski said that what sustained him was the knowledge that he was a Jew, and that this alone explained why he was there. He refused to convert to Islam even when food was offered in exchange.

There are countless stories of faith, courage, and an unbreakable connection to Hashem.

Only the Spirit Endures

And what will sustain us?

Only the spirit.

Only faith.

Only the ability to recognize that the picture is infinitely larger than what our eyes can presently see, and even while living through the captivity of exile, to feel ourselves held securely and peacefully in the loving hands of the Creator.