Tonight I took a yoga class… and instead of leaving feeling relaxed and refreshed and rejuvenated, I felt despondent and depressed and disillusioned…feeling the weight of the world on shoulders that shook, yet persevered to be strong in the moment.

I worked harder in that class tonight than I ever had – drenched from more sweat than I would have thought possible to release from my body.  I struggled to hold each and every pose longer than I had the strength to bear, all the while imagining the massive power it would take others to simply survive.

But this was not a moment to feel pride in my personal accomplishment, it was an hour that shook me to the core as I realized that no act of discipline could have saved the three young men in Israel that lost their lives to the whims of terror and hatred – and during these 60 minutes, intended for one to release all outside issues and contemplations, this heinous crime remained the only thought I could invoke.

Today we heard the words no parent should ever have to hear – that their child had not just died, but was murdered – and it was three families that took this on as the world had waited in hopes of a positive outcome.  Innocent boys, not even soldiers… barely through childhood… at the pilgrimage of their future – but never to be.

This loss is not just a mother’s, grieving for a child —

Nor is it felt simply as a Jew, re-living our historic pathways and wondering “why?”

It’s not even the sorrow that is felt for humanity.

This loss creeps into our hearts and bones and fears for the retaliation that is sure to come, while an entire country and world pray for peace.  Unfortunately the days ahead may become more restless than the nights of waiting since June 12^th for these boys to come home.

Yet, we pray for strength and compassion.

Tonight my yoga class embarked on loving kindness, preaching the ability to choose our reactions to life’s challenges in more thoughtful ways.  But tonight, as I light three memorial candles in my home, my head reminds me that we can’t always live through our heart.

Tonight I hope for extended peace – and I give my heart to the families that have lost their own.