This week, our team stood in Bat Yam, at the very spot where a missile fell just days ago.
The destruction was staggering—an entire apartment building torn in half by a single rocket. The explosion didn’t just punch a hole in the skyline—it shattered lives. Concrete lay in twisted piles. Curtains blew through the open air where walls used to be. What was once a place of laughter, morning coffee, bedtime stories, and Shabbat dinners was now an open wound.
One of our team members said it plainly:
“It’s devastating to see. Honestly, there are just… no walls. Nothing left.”
But this isn’t just about broken buildings.
This is about broken hearts. This is about people.
A Woman With a Suitcase
While filming in the wreckage, we encountered a woman evacuating what little remained of her home.
She clutched a suitcase—the only thing she could manage to take with her. Volunteers moved around her, helping carry whatever could still be salvaged from the dust and debris.
Her eyes told the story her mouth couldn’t.
Grief. Disbelief. Exhaustion.
She had just finished the seven-day mourning period (shiva) for her mother when the rocket struck. The very same apartment where she had wept, prayed, and said her last goodbye now stood in ruin.
Two tragedies in one week. Two goodbyes, too close together.
She didn’t have to say much. We all felt the weight of it.
“Like Refugees”
All around us, people were returning—not to homes, but to memories.
Suitcases in hand, backpacks slung low, they picked through the ruins of their lives. Looking for photo albums, important papers, the dress their daughter wore to her Bat Mitzvah. The kind of things insurance can’t replace.
“People are walking like refugees in their own city,” one local said.
That sentence hit hard. Because it was true.
They weren’t fleeing to foreign lands. They were sifting through the ashes of their own streets—still hearing the sirens, still unsure if the next strike would hit even closer.
The War Is Still Ongoing
Even as we write this update, the air-raid sirens continue to blare across the country.
No one knows where the next rocket will fall. Families sleep in stairwells, in shelters, in their clothes—just in case they have to run again.
One rocket is all it takes to change everything.
And right now, there are hundreds of thousands facing that risk every day.
The emotional trauma. The practical losses. The overwhelming uncertainty. It’s more than any one person can carry.
But We Are Not Powerless
In the face of all this heartbreak, we are not helpless.
Because you send us—we go.
Because you give—we give.
Because you pray—we see miracles.
Our teams are on the ground every day, distributing food baskets, clean water, hygiene supplies, baby formula, and comfort. We bring more than physical aid—we bring prayer. We bring God’s Word. We bring His shalom into the chaos.
And we stand firmly on this promise from Zechariah:
“I will be to her a wall of fire all around, declares the Lord, and I will be the glory in her midst.”
Zechariah 2:5
That’s not poetic language. That’s the reality we are witnessing.
God is present in the rubble. He is near to the brokenhearted. And He is using His people—you and us—to wrap arms of compassion around those in despair.
Please Keep Standing With Us
This is not over. But neither is our calling. From the deepest place in our hearts, we ask you:
- Pray for the families who’ve lost everything—their homes, their loved ones, their sense of safety
- Support this urgent work. Every gift helps us reach farther, faster, with more hope
- Declare God’s promises over Israel. Speak His Word into this darkness
- Stand with us—not just in this moment, but in the days and weeks to come
Here are details of our War Relief operation:
- Supplying 100 fans ($27 each) and 50 AC units ($347.49 each) for public bomb shelters
- Distributing food baskets to families under fire ($50 each)
- Delivering care packages to elderly people who are isolated and scared ($35 each)
Any amount of help—financial, prayer, or even just spreading the word—makes a real difference.
With deep love and unshakable hope,
The Team at Beit Hallel Congregation
