Greetings from our beautiful Land of Israel, shaken and shattered by our tormentors who hate us with never ending enmity, and take vengeance on us with malice of heart, paying G-d back for having returned us to our own Land1.
“For,” said the Lord, “Israel is about to enter into a ‘mortally dangerous window of time.’ You know how to pray and voice My Word2. Stand in the gap, make up the breach, with fasting, in sackcloth and ashes, weeping and mourning, wailing and making bitter lamentation as for an only son on behalf of my people Israel, lest their backslidings and refusal to turn to me crash down upon their heads.”
So I got myself again a large sheet of burlap and cut from it a shirt that covers front and back, and thought at Lag B’Omer I will get plenty of ashes to make a heap for myself. But all I could find was blackened wood and charcoal, no ashes. The next morning the Lord told me, rather sternly, not to waste any more time with looking for ashes: “Put on the sackcloth, begin the fasting and pray, with weeping, lamentation and bitter mourning.”
I began at once praying every morning, in sackcloth and with bitter weeping, VOICING His Word as the Holy Spirit lead me from Scripture to Scripture. Then it began, bombing after bombing, mortar shells after mortar shells, and the bombing in Netanya at the shopping mall. None of the bombs succeeded with killing and maiming people except for the bomb in Netanya. Even the mortar shells did not achieve the death and damage they can cause but for two little ones, who got seriously wounded.
On Thursday, May 25th, I omitted to pray because of the many errands I had to do; and on Friday I momentarily forgot I was not to eat until well after sundown. But I did not consider it making much difference, thinking meticulous observance was not required. That weekend the third floor of a big hall hosting a wedding banquet gave way under the weight of happy dancers and crashed through second and first floor down to the ground, burying celebrants and maiming and injuring others.
In one instant, in the blinking of an eye, without any prior warning or sign of impending disaster, a joyous wedding celebration was turned into bitter lamentation, weeping and mourning.
Then the Lord spoke to me again and said, “Just so shall my visitation be upon those who call themselves by my Name. For twenty years I have sent my messengers to alert of my impending visitation, admonishing them that it will be very sudden and unexpected. Last year I sent you to alert my people about the winds of change, about the upward and downward ‘vortex’ of my visitation, that it will touch down as suddenly, as powerfully and unexpected as a tornado does. But as there are those who watch for the signs of a coming tornado to give the people an advance warning, so have I sent you and others of my messengers to warn my people, lest they be taken by surprise.”
“Have you seen, have you understood the joy of a wedding turned into mourning? They did not even have time to call out my Name, so suddenly did this calamity come upon them. Just so sudden shall be my visitation, and my Coming for my own when I shall take them out of the earth. Have I not said that ‘if the owner of the house had known in which hour of the night the thief was coming, he would have kept awake and would not have allowed his house to be broken into?’3 As suddenly as the floor gave way under the weight of the dancing celebrants, not leaving them any time to realize what was happening, so suddenly shall be my coming. For I shall come for my own in the twinkling of an eye, suddenly, when they least expect it.”4
“And you,” the Lord continued, “do not let down with fasting, with weeping and bitter lamentation, with praying my Word and wearing sackcloth.” He did not rebuke me, but He sounded very serious. That Shabbat, however, I did not wear sackcloth and did not fast, because Shabbat represents the joyous promise of the coming Messianic Kingdom. Yet disaster followed after disaster; even the soccer game in Haifa turned chaotic, something that had never before happened in Israel.
But I did not connect it with myself, with what the Lord had commanded me to do.
On Yom Rishon, the first day of the week, which begins in Israel on Saturday after sundown, I put the sackcloth on again and re-entered the fast, praying G-d’s Word morning for morning, with bitter tears and lamentation. There were other terror attacks, but none succeeded in killing or causing great damage.
On Thursday evening, May 31st (actually it was already Friday, June 1st), my husband and I attended a wedding we had promised we would. I told the Lord I would not dance, nor participate in the rejoicing, nor drink alcohol, but only eat the meal. The next morning I did not manage to get up in time for the prayer. Instead my husband and I had to keep an important appointment, after which I went about my usual errands and cooking our Shabbat dinner. I did not wear the sackcloth all day, for it was hot.
That evening a suicide bomber succeeded in taking 18 young lives with him into his mad death at a beach front discotheque in Tel Aviv, injuring scores of others, maiming some for life. It was a scene of utter horror, the ‘mortally dangerous window’ having opened up upon youngsters who just wanted to live and enjoy life a little before they have to go into the army.
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