I’m shaken. I may live on the other side side of the country, may never have wandered the streets of Malibu or Brentwood or the many places my friends remember so fondly, but these fires are terrifying. Apocalyptic.

The truth is that I like my comfortable, safe life. But if there is one thing we have learned it is that no place is safe, no one is immune from danger. It whispers in dark corners, slips down the sidewalk in broad daylight.

It is a sleep-deprived driver, a crazed person with a gun, a bolt of lightening, a brick teetering on a ledge. It is a wayward spark, a Hamas lackey who kidnaps and murders civilians. It is everywhere and nowhere.

I was supposed to be in Los Angeles this past weekend. I canceled my trip, although the synagogue I planned to attend stayed open and wasn’t near the fires. The friends I was going to stay with were relieved, because by canceling I enabled them to leave town. Which in turn made me feel a little less like a coward.

I cannot help but ask: Where is God? And while I’m asking impossible questions, I wonder: Where was God for the hundreds of years that the Israelites suffered in Egypt, before God finally heard their cries of despair? During the Inquisition, the pogroms, the Holocaust? When my father’s identical twin died at age 25, forever etching grief onto my dad’s face?

This week we Jews began reading the book of Exodus, in which God stepped forward and rescued our people, boldly claiming us as God’s own. God and Moses, partners in the grand rescue of 600,000 people. Together, they led us to freedom. But not to safety.

We have never been entirely safe, never completely secure. That has remained our reality for more than 2,500 years. It’s remarkable that we are still here.

So why do we still worship? Still tell our ancient stories, still thank God for the many kindnesses showered upon us?

Because we believe in possibilities. In hostages who need to be rescued. In hope. And yes, even sometimes in a Higher Power.

We believe in the power of our own hands, our own minds, our own strength and resilience. Whether we believe it comes from God or not is irrelevant. We are the Jewish people. Despite those who would destroy us, we are blessed.

The Hebew on the flag says, Am Yisrael chai! The Jewish people live!