March 3, 2026: Just a few days ago, at eight in the morning, my wife and I were awakened by the sound of alarms.

It was the very morning we had planned to celebrate the biblical holiday of Purim at our congregation. Our five children had spent weeks creating a claymation film on the book of Esther, set to premiere that afternoon. Costumes were laid out; a message had been prepared; we were ready to rejoice.

Instead, Israel’s air-raid sirens went off across the country, and we ran to our family’s bomb shelter.

This happened on the 11th of Adar, a meaningful date in the story of Esther and in Jewish history. It is the very date that the Jewish people, exiled in Persia, rose to defend themselves against those who wanted to annihilate them. And now, in our own time, an attack had been launched against Israel by the Iranian regime, located in what was formerly known as Persia. Israel had stepped into a historical moment that felt eerily familiar.

For generations, we have lived under threats from Iran and others who have vowed to destroy us. And yet even as events unfolded, we found ourselves praying not only for protection but for the Iranian people. We asked the Lord that they would be freed from bondage and encounter God’s grace through Jesus as we have.

Just two days later, we were supposed to celebrate our daughter’s 11th birthday. Instead, we spent those long days and nights in the bomb shelter. Every hour or so, we would hear the sound of missiles and explosions.

In just those two days, thousands of alarms were triggered, warning of missiles on their way toward Israel from Iran. We thank God for his protection. Without his promises, this would feel unbearable. And yet even with that protection, civilians have died in or near their own homes. In fact, one of our Jews for Jesus cafés (that also serves as a church plant space) had its windows shattered by a nearby missile strike.

There are no easy wars. Living with the knowledge that a missile could fall on your home is neither normal nor comfortable. You think about it at night while your children are asleep and during the day while you sit down for a family meal at your table. But this has become part of our daily rhythm.

And yet, even in the midst of it all, something else is happening in Israel—something you will never see on the news.

People in Israel are finding their Messiah!

Just last week, two young adults from secular backgrounds were baptized in our congregation, and three more have asked to be baptized. In just the last eight weeks, more than 300 Israelis have requested we send them a copy of the New Testament in Hebrew!

Congregations and ministries are partnering together to take care of the families who have lost their homes. Instead of closing down our missile-damaged ministry center, our team quickly boarded up the windows and opened the doors again the next day.

Meanwhile, my older children are boldly sharing their faith at school, and God is moving in the hearts of their classmates. Just recently, one of their friends asked for a New Testament. Our home group has grown to 18 people. And last week, just before our meeting began, another young adult professed faith in Yeshua (Jesus).

All of this is unfolding at the very same time: war and worship, sirens and salvation, fear and faith. We feel the tension of both realities.

Your Jews for Jesus missionaries in Israel deeply need your prayers. Please pray that God will strengthen us, guard us, renew our energy, and keep our hearts steady. Pray that we will remain focused, joyful, grateful, and kind to one another—even in these perilous times.

And please pray that in the midst of a unstable world, many more would find the unshakable hope of Messiah.