Right after the war broke out and mothers online confessed to seeing the news and breaking down, I wrote this article about not following the news.

I know the counter-argument: "Imo anochi b'tzara! I must read the stories and suffer alongside my brethren.”

The thing is, those words were said by Hashem when He symbolically appeared in a thornbush. (And didn't get scratched, obviously.) He was empathizing with the Jews suffering at the hands of Pharaoh.

But Pharaoh, who bathed twice daily in the blood of 300 infants, did not livestream it. Antiochus, who killed 4,000 Jews in one day in one city, did not post it to TikTok.

These stories aren't new to our people. It’s just the first time we can see them and read the gory details up close in our handheld devices.

And we shouldn't.

Because I am not G-d. I am a human with a nervous system that's not designed to be able to handle this.

I am a mother with kids who need to be served breakfast tomorrow. I need to protect my energy so I can function.

In other words, not let the bad guys win. Because that's what happens when we spiral into despair, terror or anger.

We can wallow, rage and feel helpless. Or we can take action where we do have control.

Do you cry thinking about the babies? Does your heart break for the hostages released with no families to return to? Let the pain move you towards productivity. Hug your children. Strengthen your own marriage. Build your bayis ne’eman.

Instead of thoughts and prayers (or ribbons and hearts), be constructive.

“An empty chair?” responded the Lubavitcher Rebbe when approached by the Jewish Federation in the 1950s. They proposed an initiative to remember the millions lost in the Holocaust by leaving one chair empty at every Seder table, symbolizing the Jew who wasn’t alive to attend. The Federation wanted the Rebbe to get on board and spread the idea through his network of shluchim.

“The extra chair should not be empty,” said the Rebbe. “It should be filled. Invite another Jew to the Seder.”

Those of us alive to carry on the legacy need to carry it on. You gotta be a grounded presence to raise the next generation. If they’ll kill us for being Jews, let us be Jewish—and make sure our homes are happy so our children feel the beauty, not the burden, of being a Torah Jew.

That’s how the Jewish people have survived until now. And that’s how we’ll keep going, until Moshiach comes.