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Processed aliyah paperwork is like manna falling from the heavens, except it is inedible.

Today, my sister brought up a David Ben-Gurion quote:

“In Israel, in order to be a realist, you must believe in miracles.”

David Ben-Gurion

Joshua stopping the sun and Daniel in a den of lions are pretty remarkable, but in my personal life, they don’t compare right now to the fact that the Jewish Agency and Nefesh B’Nefesh scheduled me a shaliach (immigration coordinator) appointment just eleven days after I first applied to make aliyah.

If you knew the long list of paperwork and official documents, seven hundred thousand different things to submit and be processed before they’ll agree to that appointment, you’d be as amazed as I am right now.

I spoke to a Jewish Agency rep in Israel today. He set up my appointment to meet the NBN shaliach for the Pacific Northwest region, based in San Francisco:

ME: I’m so relieved she’ll be in Seattle.
JEWISH AGENCY REP: It’s easier to get to than San Francisco, I’d assume?
ME: Yeah, it’s three hours away instead of about fourteen.
JEWISH AGENCY REP: (pause) Your country is very big. You won’t have that problem here.
ME: (laugh) Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.

Seriously, the walls of Jericho are falling down around me. I have crossed the Paperwork Mountains (הרי ניירת) and emerged whole on the other side.

If you consider the Jewish people stomping around Jericho’s borders for a week, I couldn’t reliably tell you that was more clamorous than my filling out and acquiring and begging and thanking and submitting and processing those mountains, speaking to doctors and rabbis and US government workers and NBN workers and Jewish Agency workers. My mind was in chaos. And now, we burn the city down. 

Wait. Bad metaphor. Ignore.

Did God take time away from preventing the zombiepocalypse and levitating Tibetan monks and creating Joss Whedon and, um, probably helping the needy, and come into my life to bless my application?

(One thing’s for sure: He wasn’t in the writers’ room of Glee this season. Those poor souls, who still watch and wait and hope.)

We don’t need to be singled out by something above us to help create something wonderful. Miracles today are more grassroots than federal.

This week, the water didn’t turn to blood. A donkey did not speak.

Dozens of people worked together to one purpose, were efficient, were kind and supportive.

Every single one exists in their own personal world, and they helped me.

Some were paid salaries. Some were just good people wanting to help. Often both were the case. 

Although no one owes me anything, I’ve already experienced so many people reaching out to me and giving their support, and each gesture meant something to me.

I look at my ancestors’ legacy and at everyone who continues to contribute today to the land of Israel. The fact of its existence, of our people’s continued existence, is one of the greatest wonders I’ve encountered in my life, and it is due to these people.

I doubt I could ever live up to their impressive example, but I’m going to take a chance. I am going to try to make something amazing out of my life, living in my people’s land.

Just the fact I will be living there is enough miracle for me.

Dayenu; it’s absolutely enough.

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