By RABBI BARRY COHEN
Much of the training during my chaplaincy residency was devoted to developing a sense of empathy: finding a way to feel what patients/clients feel. One of the strategies is to listen to their words, notice body language, pay attention to tone and facial expressions. And then try to find a memory that is comparable or similar to what I witnessed.
The goal: feel what they feel.
Most of the time, I am able to use this technique to feel what patients and their families and friends feel. That is … most of the time.
But right now, we continue to learn the horrors Hamas inflicted upon Israelis: the shootings, beatings, executions, assaults, kidnappings, and much, much worse.
Have I successfully empathized with Israeli grandparents, parents, siblings, children and friends with what they have endured?
No.
I may try, but whatever I feel is but a shadow of the severity of what Israelis have felt and continue to feel.
So what now? I can keep responding in the way our people has responded to tragedy, horror and terror for generations: I can say Hineini, “I am here.” Collectively, we can say Hineinu, “We are here”
At the Oct. 9 Israel Solidarity Gathering, we said, Hineinu. Every day, in small and big ways, as we support and strengthen Israelis, we say Hineinu. Every day, in small and big ways, as we support and strengthen family and friends, whether locally or halfway around the world, we say Hineinu.
Who knows how long this war with Hamas will last. Who knows whether it will expand against other terrorist groups, whether in Gaza, the Galilee or the West Bank. Who knows what terror and horrors await Israelis and their extended families.
We must continue to say Hineinu by giving of our time, resources, money … by giving our strength, compassion, love and hope. We must continue to say Hineinu by taking care of ourselves spiritually and physically. 
For me, the past days have been emotionally, spiritually and physically overwhelming and draining. I have struggled to maintain boundaries between keeping in touch with what is going on in Israel and taking care of family and myself. I welcomed Shabbat like I have never welcomed it before. I desperately needed rest and respite.
But I knew that after Shabbat was complete, I would need to say Hineini, “I am here,” in various and unanticipated ways again. In order to do so, I am going to have to pace myself. I am going to need to limit the time I devote to keeping in touch with the latest updates from Israel. I am going to have to be vigilant about the stories I read because the web and social media are filled with false information and false reporting. 
Equally as important, I need to eat well and sleep well, and guilt-free enjoy personal indulgences. 
I need to ensure I have enough energy, creativity and patience to share with co-workers, colleagues and community. And I need the resources to be present for my children and my family.
In the coming days and weeks, let us all remember to be kind, forgiving and compassionate to ourselves. I imagine the stresses, emotions and strains of the war in Israel will test our resolve. We are allowed to make mistakes. 
Let’s also ensure we are kind, forgiving and compassionate to family, co-workers, friends and even strangers.
The only way to weather this storm is by facing it together. I end with my favorite quote from Winston Churchill: “If you’re going through Hell, keep going.” 
May we all take these words to heart.