Prayer for the Land

Everything I see in the Land of Israel is a gift You place into my hands. 

The cliffs of Masada rising over the Dead Sea — mine. 
The almond blossoms bursting white in the Galilee — mine. 
The red kalanit flowers igniting the fields of the Negev — mine. 
The olive groves of the Judean Hills twisting under ancient sun — mine. 

Not because I claimed them. 
Not because I conquered them. 
But because Hashem gave them. 

All the Land of Israel I see belongs to me — and to every Jew. 

Not because a politician signed a paper. 
Not because a general drew a border. 
Not because a coalition survived another vote. 

Not Benjamin Netanyahu. 
Not Naftali Bennett. 
Not Yair Lapid. 
Not Avigdor Lieberman. 
Not tycoons. 
Not elites. 
Not the powerful or the praised. 

The Land was not handed to us by men. 
It was promised by Hashem. 

Every tree rooted in the Land of Israel. 
Every wildflower breaking through her ancient rock. 
Every stream carving its path through her hills. 
Every dune shaped by her desert winds. 
Every fig ripening under her sun. 
Every stalk of wheat bowing in her valleys. 
Every olive grove twisted with memory. 
Every vineyard clinging to her mountains. 
Every stone warmed by the same light that warmed our fathers. 

This is not politics. 
It is covenant. 

The Land of Israel is not a trophy. It is not a headline. It is not a negotiation. 
It is a gift — fierce, sacred, and alive. 

It belongs to every Jew. 
To the scholar bent over his books. 
To the soldier on the border. 
To the child running through her fields. 
To the exile who still whispers, “Next year.” 

It belongs to me — not because I earned it, but because my Father gave it. 
A birthright sealed not in ink, but in eternity. 

I am part of the Land of Israel, and she is woven into my soul. 
Her dust clings to my prayers. 
Her wind carries my name. 

This Land is not granted by governments. 
It is given by God. 

I stand on soil promised before I was born. 
Her dust rises with my prayers and settles into my soul. 
This Land is not claimed by my strength, but granted by His word. 
This is my home, bestowed by God’s promise, sealed by God’s command, secured by His eternal word, and placed into my hands as an eternal inheritance. 

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David Ben Horin lives in Afula with his family, 60,000 passionate Israelis, and Matilda, our local camel.