Esah Einai (I Lift My Eyes Towards the Mountains)

"Is there anything other than praying that you know of that we can do? Thank you for any leads." *Question posted by a parent on a Jewish day school listserv. 

I lift my eyes toward the mountains, from where will come my help?

He was only gone a short time Bike riding in the neighborhood with a friend Enjoying the freedom of almost being finished exams Feeling the healing warmth of the almost summer sun on his back

My help is from Hashem, Maker of heaven and earth.

But he is just sixteen years old And so is his best friend Both of them innocent, emerging adults On the brink of stepping out into the world

He will not allow my feet to falter; your Guardian does not sleep.

So when I hear that door shut behind him Feel the presence of his hungry teenage body opening the fridge Listen to the sound of his voice, his laughter ringing in my kitchen Filling up my spirit with the music of his being, mercifully lifting my soul

Behold, he neither slumbers nor sleeps, the Guardian of Israel.

The relief washes over me Both as a comfort and then, sickly, as a tidal wave of Guilt I feel blessed… I feel lucky…I feel my cup runneth over I know where my baby boy is

Hashem is your Guardian; Hashem is the protective Shade at your right hand.

My heart fills with bottomless gratitude At the simple joy of being able to hug him tight To gaze at his blond hair and beautiful eyes To feel the warmth of his soul and to know the beat of his heart (by heart)

By day the sun will not harm you, nor the moon by night.

The powerful tears begin to flow A week of waiting, grief and prayer take their toll I stand with her in her empty kitchen There is no slamming of her screen door

Hashem will protect you from every evil; He will guard your soul.

When I try, for a moment, to imagine her fear It is impossible to place myself in her nightmare My heart aches for the emptiness she must feel Not knowing where her baby boy is, not holding him in her arms

Hashem will guard your departure and your arrival, from this time and forever.

I stand at my sink, my back still to him As the tears fall from my eyes into the warm soapy water I stand with her, my sister, waiting for her screen door to slam, for her son to return home. My kitchen is not yet safe until I hear her screen door shut behind him. Until he is in her arms, safe and sound.

I lift my eyes toward the mountains, from where will come my help?