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Listen on Spotify: Behind the Music: The morning of October seventh, a Saturday morning, changed our lives forever. The brutal and murderous attack against Israel, our sovereign state, left many (myself included) feeling astonished, heart-broken and deeply concerned. The very next morning we were already thinking of ways to help, even just small ways. Since I’m not a reservist anymore (they don't take old man who has nine grandkids…), I realized that the most efficient way to help was to get into my car and drive whatever could be gathered to soldiers and civilians wherever it was needed, including close to the front of the battle. And like many of my fellow countrymen, I began doing all that I could do. To that end, we, at the Bible College rented a car and started locating and purchasing the necessary equipment to deliver, delivering to both civilians and soldiers. On the ninth of October, a Monday, I found myself driving to the south. The atmosphere was hard as roads were completely bare, excepting for vehicles of the security forces. No one was walking around in the south. The windows of the military and police vehicles were open and bordered by protruding rifle barrels. Every few minutes the shouts of alarm and explosions were heard, and from time to time gun shots, evidence of encounters between the Israeli soldiers and the Hamas terrorists, who were still roaming the area. The feeling was hard. My soul experienced the difficulty and the pain. When I entered Sderot, it looked like a ghost town, although all of its inhabitants were still there. I looked at the houses and could see people looking through the closed shutters. The scene was terrible, like something you’d see in a movie. From time to time, I had to stop on the side of the road and write these feelings. Writing, “Oh, there is no life here,” “Sderot will never recover”; “Alas for us, everything fell apart”. Continuing on to Kibbutz Reim, I witnessed the devastation. The kibbutz was closed, but my eyes were able to see more than was needed. I left there and left a part of me. I found myself stopping again on the side of the road and writing about the experience; the loss my eyes saw, the smells that filled my nose, the worry that encompassed me. I felt the feelings surround me and I wrote, “We will never come back here”. On my way back I saw a few of the survivors of the Nova party. They looked shocked. We didn’t speak but I left for them some boxes with sandwiches before driving away. Day after day, I traveled this way. And as I traveled back and forth, I wrote. Writing was how I consoled my soul, which was troubled and plagued by the terrible feelings of pain. Doubts about the future of the south and the future of the country flooded my head. The shooting towards the south continued, the sounds of the clashes did not disappear and the agony prompted questions of, “What will happen to us? Will one day the villages of the south return to prosper and flourish?“ After almost a week of this, I met a man. On his shirt were the words, “Kibbutz Reim”. He told me that he is in the kibbutz and every day he waters the pots in the houses of those who are left. He told me, “When they come back, they will be happy to see their flowers blooming.” I felt full of hope. I got into the car and wrote: “There is a ray of light, we will overcome everything. Israel will win. The south will prosper for the God of Israel lives and exists!” After a while I looked at the lines written down. The first lines were written with a trembling hand and a broken heart and while I could hear sounds of missiles and alarms. However, the lines after were written to express hope, faith, and security of our confidence in the Rock of Israel, which never changes. God promised to be with us, with his people. Indeed He is, “Immanuel” – God with us. Slowly my thoughts turned into rhymes and melodies were added to them. The final result is the song “Woe to my country.” I would like to thank, with the deepest appreciation, all of my partners, those who encouraged me, supported me, enlightened my perspective. This song has been a journey of my heart and an outpouring of my soul. Thus so, I owe a debt of gratitude to all those who helped bring this project to completion. Most importantly, I would like to thank God, again, for His unreserved faithfulness to me, to His people, to His promises and to this land. Eitan Kashtan Credits: Lyrics and Music: Eitan Kashtan Arrangement: Gal Padeh Singing: Yuval Vahav Voices: Gal Padeh, Yuval Vahav Classic, Acoustic and Electric Guitar: Avi Singolda Bass Guitar: Avi Ifrach Strings: Maria's Quartet Recording and Mix: Gal Padeh – Studio 39 Mastering: Jonathan Danino
