Fortunately, I recalled Rav Itamar Schwartz's words during covid, that Hashem had shifted the world into a dimension called Keter d'Keter, which raised the world to a new level called reisha d'lo isyada (The Unknowable Beginning):
It Ain't Over Yet.
As Rav Schwartz explained it:
Since we are in the unknown right now, now that we have entered into the period known as “Reisha d’lo isyada” [The Unknowable Beginning], a higher mode of conduct from Heaven, it is therefore not possible for the world to even return to normal again.
It has risen to the level of Reisha d’lo isyada, and from there it will go to the realm of “Atik” and then to the “mouth” of Adam Kadmon. It will never again return to the lower realm of until now.
Bilvavi.Corona.Q.and.A.pdf, page 60
***
There will never be calmness and peace in the world again.
There will be a lot of extreme changes in the world, from all different directions.
Some of these changes will be totally unexpected.
Last year of 5779 was a ‘bridging point’, and now in 5780 we have actually entered into a changed world.
Anyone who isn’t so affected by the tumah of the world today is able to see it clearly, just as clearly as the sun in mid-day.
Bilvavi.Corona.Q.and.A.pdf, pages 58-59
During the school day, afternoon classes might suddenly be canceled.
Other times, bus routes suddenly changed due to a sudden fire (which never happened before). And many more smaller incidences.
We saw this also on a much more tragic and severe level, like the annual celebrations in Meron on Lag B'Omer, which had occurred in one venue or another for centuries, suddenly became the location of a mass death via crushing (with many bizarre and suspicious details leading up to this terrible tragedy).
And then the horrific attack from Gaza, which lacked logic from beginning to end, like how the terrorists predominantly targeted the communities that loved Gazan Arabs the most and had been most devoted to the Gazan Arabs or how the army to an incomprehensibly and unforgivably long time to do anything to help the Jews under attack.
(Regular police officers, civilians, security guards, and off-duty soldiers came in unofficial capacity as first responders.)
So with reisha d'lo isyada in mind, I realized we didn't really know how much time we had, how many rockets, exactly from where, nor any other attack that might happen.
I put our 9-year-old to sleep, then our son in the army came home and headed straight for bed. He didn't have anything to add, except for some black humor jokes already making their way around social media.
Then my husband came home and we discussed the situation. He's Israeli and remembers the Yom Kippur War of 1973, has been through every war since, and doesn't get excited over these things.
He stayed up to say Tehillim, then said a particularly heartfelt Bedtime Shema, then went to sleep.
I stayed up even more, not sure what to do with myself. Until that point, I'd wasted time, but also readied the mamad (bomb shelter room). Now I sat to talk to Hashem and recite Tehillim in the living room, keeping in mind also the promise of protection from Rav Menachem Menashe, as described in a post published the night of the attack here:
ome-positive-omens-for-am-yisrael-regarding-fires-around-the-world-plus-the-earthquake-and-solar-eclipse-in-the-usa.html.
Around 1:30 AM, I just started thinking I'd better get to bed when I heard a BOOM.
"What was that?" my husband called out, still partly asleep.
"A boom," I said.
We remained silent, then I suggested it might have been a sonic boom from a speeding jet, as happens occasionally.
He didn't answer, but I could tell we were thinking the same thing: That didn't really sound like a sonic boom.
Then we heard another BOOM.
I wasn't sure what to make of it. We're hearing booms, but no siren.
There could be several reasons for that (the missiles are exploding overhead from the defense system, but aren't actually on their way to our area). But knowing about reisha d'lo isyada and how Hashem has signaled loud and clear how much He DOESN'T WANT us relying on the IDF, I figured this could be an attack without the sirens.
(And anyway, shrapnel falling from the Iron Dome defense system offers danger, as my army son's experience in Sderot proves, when crouched near a cement wall, shrapnel from an exploded rocket came within inches of hitting him twice.)
I got up to turn off the gas and lock all entrances.
Then, not knowing how our Philistinian locals would respond to the situation, I went about closing all the shutters, making it harder for anyone to see in. (We have bars on our windows, but nothing is foolproof except God.)
A third BOOM sounded and my husband said, "Let's go to the mamad."
I agreed and continued securing the home while my husband got our 9-year-old out of bed to take him to the mamad, where his older army brother lay sleeping (but not for long!).
The 9-year-old still hasn't figured out that incoming rockets and missiles are actually life-threatening, so he sees BOOMs and sirens as fun.
From the mamad, my husband called for me to come. I was just closing the shutters in our bedroom when I spotted in the sky a round orange explosion the size of a full moon. And another BOOM.
That was it for me. One must learn to prioritize in life and so I left the shutters and headed to the mamad, where I found 2 beds pushed together and our 9-year-old happily ensconced between his father and his older brother.
I sat on the foot of the bed, preferring to sit up anyway, when finally, a siren went off.
"Nu, thank you very much!" said our 9-year-old with an ironic giggle. "Now you tell us to go to the mamad!"
And then all our cell phones rang with RED ALERT.
Better late than never!
We spent our time in the mamad cracking jokes, davening, and speaking to another son, who was spending the night in Beit Shemesh with friends.
Via the speaker phone, he laughingly described what was going.
They'd all been relaxing on the porch together when they started hearing BOOMs and feeling the building shake (more extreme than our scenario) and seeing missile trails and explosions in the sky.
They retreated to the mamad, then said, "Wait a minute — there aren't even any sirens! Why should we sit closed in the mamad for no reason?"
They (foolishly) went back to the porch to watching the shooting missiles.
(This bizarrely reminded me of certain August nights of my childhood, in which we would lay out sleeping bags across our back deck to watch the shooting stars until we fell asleep. Shooting stars...shooting missiles...I guess that's what triggered the fond memory.)
Anyway, they trooped back out to the porch to watch the "show," filming it too, which he sent to his brother's phone and showed us later.
As I heard from another son who lives there too, there never was a siren in Beit Shemesh that night, "only" powerful explosions in the sky.
Later, we found out hundreds of missiles sped toward Eretz Yisrael, most destroyed before impact, and the few that impacted hardly caused any Jewish deaths.
But listening to a real talmid chacham, Rav Itamar Schwartz, prepared me to get ready for an attack at ANY time and not just the predicted 8 hours, plus realize anything can happen.
This acceptance of unexpected and unpredictable events, part and parcel of the new level of reisha d'lo isyada, helped me tremendously — mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.
And a lot indeed remains unclear, like exactly how many missiles, exactly what kinds, and from where?
For sure from Iran, but the Houthis in Yemen either shot one or many, and I heard vague reports referring to missiles from Hizbullah in Lebanon too.
Also, we apparently had unexpected (to me) help from the USA, the UK, and Jordan in destroying missiles en route.
And one missile apparently fell on the Iranians.
But again, nothing seems clear. Who to believe and about what?
The Morning After
(Not sure why just those two grades. Could be that's all they could manage staff for.)
I don't the reasons for each authority who cancelled school in the frum institutions, but I wasn't planning on sending our son anyway.
I really didn't feel comfortable having him far from home in such a potentially dangerous situation, plus needing to rely on public buses or taxis for transportation, which also seemed unreliable under the circumstances.
The schools also face limitations, especially if at least some of their staff lives out of town, and don't feel like leaving their city to go to work in this situation.
Also, transportation is a problem because most families do not own cars.
Many of us also felt exhausted after a sleepless (or partially sleepless) and stressful night.
I myself was not fully functional until around 1 in the afternoon.
So if there had been school, I can't imagine I would've sent him anyway.
The Birur (Sifting) Intensifies
To my shock, many believe don't even believe missiles entered Israel.
(So what were those booms and that orange explosion I saw in the sky? And what about my son's experience and video recording?)
Others claim it was a test run. Everyone who wanted to test their defense missiles got their chance.
Even if it was a "test run," which might explain why the USA administration goaded it to happen and also partially explain why nations who don't really like us (like the UK and Jordan) assisted, the nearly 100% success rate is statistically improbable.
After all, what is the likelihood of hundreds of missiles either destroyed mid-air or landing on places where they don't injure anyone (almost)?
The hundreds of miracles that happened last night with every missile likely cannot be repeated outside of Eretz Yisrael or outside of Am Yisrael (especially the committed Am Yisrael).
Many Israelis just think IDF defense is really awesome: "Hey, we learned our lesson from October 7th and now were back on top of our game!"
(Which is what many Israelis said after the terrible failure of the Yom Kippur War: "We've learned our lesson and NOW..." How many times do they need to learn their lesson?)
Here in Eretz Yisrael, we get very used to relying on miracles.
What happened last night was a series of major miracles.
Because there were almost no casualties and very little damage, I believe no one wants to see it for what it is: nisei nissim – miracles of miracles.
Hashem was doing us a massive chessed.
And the Jew-haters coming out of their closets since the Great Horror from Gaza has only intensified with this latest attack.
I really see how much we're despised, even by those we originally thought of us friends.
Most irrationally, the same people who rage and weep over any "civilian" deaths in Gaza (not the great many injuries & deaths caused by their fellow Muslims, but just the ones from Jews) express tremendous glee and satisfaction over the potential myriads of Jewish deaths meant to have occurred with the Iranian missile attack — expressing their belief that the targeted Israeli assassination of an Iranian military official completely justifies the mass slaughter of Jewish civilians in Eretz Yisrael.
What terrible hypocrites with such wicked hearts.
We are a Nation that sits alone.
And that's a GOOD thing!
And it's good for us to know who our friends AREN'T.
After all we have the Best Friend in the world, Who created us and the whole Universe.
And that's all we ever need.
Ein od milvado.