"Balak said to Bilaam, ‘What have you done to me? I took you to curse my enemies, but you have blessed them!’ ” (Bamidbar 23:11)

The Gemara in Berachos (12b) states that Chazal wanted to include parshas Balak in Krias Shema. To teach us that a person needs to be strong in serving Hashem, to teach us to believe that all evil-doers fighting kedushah will have their will subdued to the Will of Hashem. (Sfas Emes)

Summer 2014.

Residents in the south were being bombarded with rockets, and the Arabs kept upping the ante, threatening Tel Aviv and beyond.

It was summer vacation, but the atmosphere was tense. I tried to keep the kids occupied at home, but there were still groceries to buy and appointments to keep. Every time we left the house, I kissed the mezuzah and davened that all Klal Yisrael make it safely home.

Yet home didn’t feel safe, either.

I stocked my sealed room with water and crackers, but deep down, I didn’t believe it would come to that. War was for other places. Not my home.

It was Friday night. Despite my need to keep my family close, it never occurred to me not to send them to shul. I was feeding the baby when the sirens began to wail. My heart froze.

It was a mistake. Not here. Not on Shabbos. Not ever.

Grabbing the baby, I dashed to our miklat, trembling. Where was my husband? My children? No phones! No contact! This wasn’t supposed to happen!

Even after the all-clear sounded, I was still shaking, waiting… willing my family to be safe, the Shabbos candles standing silent sentry behind me.

We see this concept with Bilaam, when he blessed Bnei Yisrael against his will. As it says in Shabbos (119b): “Against his will he will answer Amen.”

So began the new normal. While we weren’t subject to a constant rocket barrage, the danger was all too evident. That Friday night attack had seen a missile fall in an empty field right outside my city. And while the Hashgachah pratis was clearly evident, the panicked voice in my head kept demanding, What about next time?

To complicate matters, I had tickets to America to visit my mother. Still in the year of aveilus for my father a”h, I’d been desperate to go home again. But now it was out of the question. I needed to be here for my kids.

Surprisingly, when I posed the question to my rav, he said unequivocally, “You should go. Your mother’s looking forward to it. And it’s important for you too.”

I gaped. “But there are rockets falling! I can’t leave my family!”

“Your husband’s home. It’ll be fine. Go.”

Emunas chachamim. How many times had I stressed this to my children? To my students? I’d followed my rav’s advice unerringly in the past. But now? Yet my husband and children were confident that this was right for me. I packed my bags without my usual anticipation, wrote my lists, gave my instructions.

“And if there’s a siren—”

“We know what to do, Ma!”

I couldn’t look them in the eye when I left. I felt like I’d betrayed them.

While I was waiting for my flight, an air-raid siren sounded. Huddled with my fellow passengers, I heard the crash as the rocket made contact not five miles from Ben-Gurion. The ground shook and I shook along with it.

When I called, my kids assured me that they hadn’t heard a siren and I should stop worrying. I took a deep breath, boarded the plane. I was doing the right thing. Hashem would take care of the rest.

This concept is true for every member of Klal Yisrael at all times, whenever someone is thinking of harming him, as long as he walks the path of truth, Hashem will protect him.

For the two weeks I was in America, one hand was always resting on my phone, one ear always attuned to the news. For two weeks, all was silent in my city. Not a siren wailed. Not one attack near my house.

I landed in the airport, desperate to get back home.

Twenty minutes after I walked in the front door, the screech of the siren wailed. But I was there to hug my children and they hugged me back. I’d done the right thing and Hashem had watched out for my family. As He always does.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 598)