Imagine getting shot seven times in the neck and spine.
Imagine being chained up and tortured for eight months as a hostage.
Now imagine feeling grateful through all of it.
Last night i met two men do.
And yet most of us can’t even feel grateful because someone drive a nicer car than us.
Last night I heard these 2 perspectives that emerged as radical gratitude - One from a volunteer soldier who got shot seven times and was in a coma for two months.
One from a 23-year-old hostage who was held in chains for eight months.
Both had every reason to be filled with hate. Neither of them are.
Before I continue, I want to acknowledge something.
I know this Israel Palestine is an extremely divisive topic. I know there’s a lot of anger, pain, and strong opinions on all sides.
I’m not here to make a political statement.
Just sharing the stories what these 2 individuals endured and what they learned about gratitude, hope, and the refusal to let hate rot their hearts.
Ben’s Story
Ben is a volunteer soldier.
He’s from Cape Town. Barely Jewish. He went to catholic school. He just went to Israel to serve and fight and try to save people’s lives after a bunch of young people were murdered, taken as hostages on October 7th at a house music festival.
Ben got shot seven times. In the neck. In the spine. And was semi paralyzed.
He was in a coma for two months.
This is a big guy - about 6’4”. And he wasn’t able to walk for almost a year, going around in a wheel chair. Now he walks with forearm crutches.
When he woke up from the coma, his dad told him he was lucky.
Ben said, “What do you mean I’m lucky? I was shot seven times.”
His dad said, “There’s a soldier next to you who lost his leg. There’s a soldier next to him still in a coma who lost both legs. And there’s a soldier next to him who lost both arms.”
At that moment, Ben realized how much he still had.
You look at what you have and you really have nothing to complain about… especially if you have four working limbs.
He jokingly added that the first thing he asked when he came out of the coma was whether his dick still worked.
Thank God for him, it did.
But beneath the humor, the point was clear: gratitude is about your perspective on your circumstances, not the circumstances themselves.
Almog’s Story
Then Almog told his story.
Almog is 23 years old. He went to the nova music festival on October 6. He was having the time of his life with his friends.
Then bombs appeared in the sky. Gun shots, RPGs. And the terrorizing green uniforms of Hamas terrorists emerged shooting festival attendees down.
Almog got in a car with friends, driving as fast as they could. He watched Hamas fighters with RPGs blow up the car right next to them.
Soon they were surrounded. Fifty or so Hamas soldiers blockading the road, shooting at them.
They ditched the car and ran.
Almog dove into the bushes and lay there, silent, trying to hide.
He heard everything. Gunfire. Screams. The slaughter of unarmed friends around him.
Then silence.
That’s when he texted his mom that he loved her.
Minutes later, a Hamas soldier found him and said, “If you want to live, you will come with me.”
They took him in the car and chained him up. That’s when the abuse began.
He was brought into Gaza, where he saw civilians celebrating in the streets.
He said he was actually more afraid of the civilians than the terrorists. Almog saw Hamas soldiers with him in the car having to shoot at civilians to keep them from killing Almog. They needed him alive as a hostage.
Almog was then held for more than eight months.
Chained by his arms and feet for three of those months.
His captors told him if he converted to Islam, they’d give him more food.
They taunted him. Cocked loaded guns to his head, only to pull the trigger and reveal it was unloaded.
What Almog Learned in Captivity
Almog said what kept him sane was that every single day, no matter how bad it got, he found something to be grateful for.
He counted his blessings every morning when he woke up.
Whether it was the fact that he got to tell his mom he loved her, or some other small thing—he kept his mind focused on what he still had.
The terrorists constantly told him he had no hope.
They fed him false news that Hamas was winning the war.
They told him that even if Israeli forces came, they’d just shoot him in the head.
He had every reason to live a depressed existence.
But he didn’t.
He said he focused on manifesting that he would get home safe, visualizing being home.
He visualized it every single day.
And that brought him solace.
The Return
Eight months in, he was saved in a miraculous operation.
The Israeli army pulled off an operation that was next to impossible. Somehow they found him and got him and the other hostages he was with out.
He was brought to a hospital to recover.
And that’s when he learned his father had died the night before he was rescued.
The night before.
He also learned how many of his friends had been killed in the October 7 massacre.
Even still, he held onto what he’d learned in captivity.
He said, “At least I was able to go to my own father’s funeral. At least I came back alive when so many of my friends didn’t.”
He found blessings even in the darkness.
The Message That Stayed With Me
I didn’t sleep well last night. My heart was very unsettled and traumatized by the evil we had heard about from first hand witnesses.
But then I remembered something they said I haven’t been able to shake.
At the end of their talk, they had said they have no hate in their hearts. Not even for Hamas.
Because when you hate someone, they said, it takes up space where you could be holding love for the world. And making it better.
I think that’s the lesson here.
If these two… who endured what most of us can’t even possibly imagine… can choose not to hate, maybe we can examine the hate we’re holding onto for far lesser reasons.
Gratitude, forgiveness to our enemies.
Love over hate.
No matter what side you’re on.
Talk soon.
-Arlin
