Almost every single day, I wake up before dawn and walk outside. I look outside at my stunning view of Jericho, the Judean Desert, the Jordanian Valley, the Jordanian Mountains, and up until Amman, Jordan.

I walk through my small town – you might call it a settlement – and wonder at the fruit trees, especially the citrus trees, that bloom in the desert. I commute on the bus to Jerusalem, passing the Temple Mount to my West, and am fascinated that, unlike thousands of my ancestors, I live in a flourishing Jewish state in the historic homeland of the Jewish people, Israel.

I am a proud Zionist living in the Land of Israel, and I couldn’t be more excited about my life. I frequently tell people, echoing financial guru, Dave Ramsey, that I am doing great, and thank God, I have much more than I deserve. I have raised six impressive children in this wonderful land, and I am watching two grandchildren grow up in Jerusalem. My wife is the well-known mayor of our town, I am blessed to teach people about Israel, Torah, and Zionism every day.
It is an exciting time to be a Zionist living in the Land of Israel.

There’s something deeply special about finally being at home in the Jewish homeland. Israel is the one place on earth where Jews aren’t just a minority trying to fit in: we’re the majority, and that changes everything. Jewish culture, festivals, and the whole weekly rhythm aren’t add-ons that a select minority observes – they simply shape everyday life. Jews don’t have to ask permission to leave early on winter Shabbats or for extended days off for two days of Yom Tov.

I walk the ancient streets of Jerusalem, and it feels familiar in my bones. Lighting candles for Shabbat or hearing the shofar on Rosh Hashanah doesn’t feel like an observance: it feels like coming home after a very long exile. After centuries of living as guests in other people’s lands, there’s this quiet, profound relief in belonging somewhere completely. It’s not just about safety, it’s a feeling of being rooted.

A general view of Jerusalem's Old City shows the Western Wall, Judaism's holiest site, in the foreground as the Dome of the Rock, located on the compound known to Muslims as Noble Sanctuary and to Jews as Temple Mount, is seen in the background.
A general view of Jerusalem's Old City shows the Western Wall, Judaism's holiest site, in the foreground as the Dome of the Rock, located on the compound known to Muslims as Noble Sanctuary and to Jews as Temple Mount, is seen in the background. (credit: REUTERS/AMMAR AWAD)

Living in Israel often feels like stepping into the pages of the Torah and watching the ancient promises come true in real time. For so many of us, it’s not just stories from thousands of years ago, the promises of a rejuvenated Eretz Yisrael under Jewish sovereignty are happening right here, right now. You see Jews returning home from every corner of the globe, the ingathering of the exiles unfolding before your eyes. The land itself is being reborn. The deserts are turning green and places barren for thousands of years are blooming again after centuries of neglect.

There are moments of divine providence that touch daily life, some quiet and hidden, others impossible to ignore. Miracles, whether seen through stunning Israeli victories against all odds or witnessing astonishing innovations that change the world, make faith concrete, tangible, and deeply personal. The Jewish people brought back to their own land isn’t theory anymore – rejuvenated Jewish people in its own land is the heartbeat of everyday existence.

Jewish identity woven into everyday life

Raising Jewish kids in Israel feels like the most natural thing in the world. Here, Jewish identity doesn’t need to be taught as something separate or fragile: it’s woven into everyday life. My children speak Hebrew fluently – much better than I speak it. Torah isn’t just stories in a book: they learn it in the very places where those events unfolded. School trips take them to sites that feel like family history, not distant landmarks.

Shabbat shuts down the country, so rest and family time are simply what everyone does. And when the time comes, serving in the IDF or national service becomes part of their shared national story, a real way to protect the homeland they already cherish. In this atmosphere, love for the Jewish people, our heritage, and our values grows deep and unapologetic: no dilution, no hesitation, just quiet, confident pride.

Even with all the debates and differences of opinion – and trust me, Israelis love to debate – there’s this deep, almost instinctive sense of being one big extended family. When a crisis hits, whether it’s rockets, terror attacks, or wildfires, the whole country snaps into action together. Strangers become brothers and sisters overnight. People drop everything to help others. Volunteers flood in, donations pour out, kids organize drives, and complete strangers open their homes.

That shared destiny, that feeling we’re all in this together no matter what, creates a support network you just don’t find anywhere else. It’s not perfect, and we bicker plenty, but when it really counts, the Jewish people here show up for each other in ways that still move me every time. It’s powerful, it’s real, and it’s uniquely ours.

Israel isn’t a completed masterpiece sitting under glass – it’s an ongoing, messy, exhilarating project that early Zionists launched with raw determination. A generation of Jews finally said, “No more waiting, no more exile: we’re building this ourselves.” They did it on their own, with tremendous opposition. They started from almost nothing. Swamps had to be drained, cities were built from scratch, and a sovereign state born.

Israel is still very much a work in progress. The economy pulses, startups spit out world-changing tech, medical advances reach every continent, the desert turns green again, and that stubborn, resilient spirit carries us through every challenge. Living here puts me right in the middle of it. I’m not just observing history – I get to help write the next chapter. I’m adding my own small effort to keep this Jewish homeland strong and vibrant for the generations coming after us. It’s hard work, no question, but nothing has ever felt more worthwhile.

I recently asked my students if they thought it was time to stop using the term “Zionist.” After all, the state is older than half the countries in the world and one of the most successful nations on earth. When it was my turn to share my opinion, I told them Zionism wasn’t a movement to begin a Jewish state, it is a movement to ensure a Jewish state. I am excited and privileged to be a part of it.

The writer is a Zionist educator at institutions around the world and recently published a new book, Zionism Today.