Today was a low day. I didn’t have a particularly good reason to feel gloomy, except that the sadness and outright horror of the terrorist attacks on Israel nearly three weeks ago still lingers. Now that Israel is defending herself, the expected anti-Zionist and antisemitic attacks are proliferating, which also is dispiriting.

My facebook feed is full of memes, photos, and stories from Israel or about the war, each sadder than the last. Today I was brought up short by a photograph:

I’m sure it’s photoshopped, but that doesn’t make it any less true. When I saw it, I felt as if a little piece of my heart broke off and fell to the floor. I may not live in Israel or have close family there, but these are my people, my family.

I feel broken in a way I’ve never felt before, and sometimes quite alone. I work from home, and unless I’m teaching or leading a service, I’m alone with my two dogs. Whose language skills are woefully deficient.

In the midst of my self-pity I took the dogs for a walk this afternoon, and saw one of the upbeat signs that were posted at a nearby construction site: “You are not alone.” (I wrote about these signs a couple of weeks ago; you can find it HERE.)

It’s true. I am not alone. Indeed, I am surrounded by a supportive and strong Jewish community. I have non-Jewish neighbors and friends who care and have begun reaching out with concern, prayers, and love.

Strangers can be surprising in good ways; I was in the grocery store this week and a voice behind me asked, “Are you Jewish?” I realized that I was wearing my kipah (yarmulke) and turned and said, Yes I am. The man told me that his church is praying for Israel and the Jewish people, and they’ve begun holding a special service on Friday evenings, so that they’re praying when the Jews are.

The idea of loneliness led me to think about our ancestor Abraham, who was given a cryptic message from God in this week’s Torah portion: Lech l’cha. “Get yourself up from your native land and from your father’s house, and go to a land that I will show you.” (Genesis 12:1)

But Abraham didn’t do exactly as God commanded. Yes, he did leave as instructed, but he brought his wife Sarah, his nephew Lot, all his wealth, and “all the persons that he acquired” which indicates that he brought his entire household with him.

In other words, Abraham was not alone. He took an entire community with him on his quest. And ever since, we Jews have clung to our communities. We understand that community is necessary for each person’s mental, physical, and spiritual health. We create communities wherever we go, holding close to one another in times of joy and times of sorrow.

I am blessed to be an active part of a strong Jewish community. I teach Hebrew school at one synagogue and lead services at another. I still belong to Kol HaNeshama. I volunteer at the Jewish Federation when I can, and I teach online. I serve a small Jewish community in my neighborhood and an even smaller group at an assisted living facility. I joke that although I retired last December, I earned an F in retiring.

And yet, there are days like today when I feel sad and lonely. I think, especially in stressful times, that’s not unusual. I’m glad the sign was there to remind me that I’m not alone.