One Family in the Land:
Standing Together with Nof HaGalil

Most people think of arrival as the beginning of a story—the moment a plane lands, a family steps into a new country, and a new life begins. But what we are seeing here in Israel is something different, something deeply meaningful. For many of the Jewish immigrant families preparing to arrive in the coming days to Nof HaGalil, their story is already being shaped before they even set foot in the land—because of you.

Right now, in Nof HaGalil, there is a quiet kind of preparation taking place. It doesn’t look dramatic, and it won’t make headlines, but it carries real weight. There is movement—intentional, thoughtful, full of care. Mattresses are being set in place, blankets folded, food baskets prepared ahead of the Passover season, and essential items carefully gathered and organized. Every detail is being considered not just as logistics, but as a welcome. Because these are not just new arrivals—they are families. Many are coming from India, stepping into a completely unfamiliar world with a new language, a new culture, and new rhythms of life, all in the middle of a season that already carries tension and uncertainty across the nation.

Imagine arriving somewhere new and not knowing what waits for you—and then discovering that someone has already prepared a place for you. That, before you ever walked through the door, someone thought about your needs, your comfort, your dignity. That is what you are making possible.

Recently, we had the opportunity to stand together with the mayor of Nof HaGalil, Ronen Flot, and what took place was more than a meeting. It was a reflection of something God has been building over time—a relationship rooted not just in shared projects, but in trust, consistency, and a willingness to show up again and again in every season. He spoke about this openly, how in times of crisis, during the pandemic, and now as new immigrants arrive, this partnership has remained steady and faithful. Hearing that from the leader of a Jewish city is not something we take lightly. It speaks to something deeper than cooperation—it speaks to a relationship.

This is part of the calling we carry here in the land: to stand in the gap, to build bridges where they don’t naturally exist, and to serve both Arab and Jewish communities with the same heart—not in theory, but in practice, in ways that people can actually see and experience. “For He Himself is our peace…” (Ephesians 2:14). We are watching that peace take shape in real time, not through big statements, but through shared work, mutual respect, and a growing sense that we are not separate—we are connected, standing side by side for the good of people in this land.

What stayed with me most from that time together was something simple, but deeply meaningful. The mayor expressed his hope that one day many of you would come and visit—that we would sit together in Nof HaGalil, share a meal, raise a glass, and simply say thank you face to face. That kind of invitation doesn’t come from formality; it comes from relationship, from trust, from a sense of family. And that is exactly what you are part of.

This is not distant work. It is not abstract. What you are doing is already waiting for someone. A mattress that will hold a tired body on the first night in a new country. A blanket that brings warmth in an unfamiliar place. A food basket that meets a need at just the right moment. Before they arrive—you are already there.

As more families prepare to come, the need continues to grow, and the opportunity in front of us is not only to respond, but to prepare well—to welcome with dignity, to reflect the heart of God from the very first moment someone steps into this land. And we get to do this together. 

Thank you for standing with us—not just in moments of urgency, but in moments of preparation. Thank you for your faithfulness, your generosity, and your willingness to be part of something that is quietly changing lives before those lives even begin here. There is more ahead—more families, more opportunities to serve, more moments where love can go first—and together, we will be ready.