Ahuva’s Story: Finding Strength in Suffering, Light in Darkness

When Ahuva Eliyahu, 45, former editor and manager of the “Shabbat in Netanya” newspaper, began taking her first steps toward a Torah-observant life, she did it with complete dedication. She left a secure position as a reporter in a mainstream paper and found herself unemployed. Unsure of what to do next, she turned to Rabbi Yitzchak Zilberstein, told him her situation, and asked for guidance on how she would now earn a living.

“The rabbi sent me to the Yated Ne’eman newspaper and told me to say that he sent me,” she recalls. “But I hesitated. I told him I didn’t understand the language of the Haredi world. He just smiled and said, ‘No problem. Start your own paper in Netanya. Give everyone a voice and make sure to spread love among all Jews.’”

Ahuva’s journey into journalism began shortly after she finished her army service, where she served as a military photographer. “I always knew two things,” she says. “That I could write and that when I grew up, I wanted to be a reporter.” Right after her discharge, she chased job opportunities at various newspapers, though no one was eager to hire someone young and inexperienced. But she didn’t give up. With determination and inner fire, she finally landed her first reporting job.

Her talent quickly led her to a position as a municipal reporter for Netanya. At the same time, she completed her studies at Wingate College and worked part-time teaching aerobics at fitness centers. At 26, she married Ran, a trained photographer. Together, they raised four children.

When she first began drawing closer to Torah observance, she already had two sons. Her spiritual awakening took her by surprise. Although she came from a traditional home and had three siblings who had already become religious and prayed for her to follow, she never imagined that she, too, would become observant. “I always told them, ‘There’s no way that’s happening.’ My husband had no interest at all. But deep inside, I always felt like something was missing. No matter how much I accomplished, I had this nagging feeling that I wasn’t really living.”

At the time, did you connect that feeling to anything spiritual?

“Not at all,” she admits. “It took time before I understood what was really missing. And even when the answer came, it caught me by surprise.”

It began when she “accidentally” found herself at a Torah lecture given by the outreach organization Lev L’Achim. “From the moment it ended, I knew. This was it. This was what I’d been searching for all along.”

From there, Ahuva began her personal journey of discovery. She went to more Torah classes and eventually decided to attend a seminar on Judaism. “Through a miracle, I convinced my husband to join me for four days. All we did was relax, eat delicious meals, and listen to inspiring lectures from incredible rabbis. By the end, I left with certainty, I was ready to change my life and live as a proud Jewish woman, in every way.”

And she did just that. “Right after the seminar, I started wearing skirts, strengthening my prayers and blessings, and taking on more mitzvot.” Her husband, still hesitant, asked her to slow down. But she couldn’t.

“My soul was crying out for Torah. I couldn’t hold back. I spent a fortune buying Jewish books, studying them, soaking in every word.”

By the time her third son was born, she felt deeply grounded in the truth of Torah. She enrolled her children in religious schools, began covering her hair partially, and continued growing spiritually.

Even her writing began to shift. She felt it was no longer right to wear a head covering while still writing articles that sometimes included gossip or inappropriate content. So she resigned.

Unemployed once again, she returned to Rabbi Zilberstein. “That’s when he told me to either write for Yated Ne’eman or start my own paper,” she recalls. “And shortly after, the boss who had previously opposed launching a religious paper called me and offered me the job.”

That’s how “Shabbat in Netanya” was born. It quickly became a voice for the observant community. “Following Rabbi Zilberstein’s guidance, I made sure to get rabbinic approval for every article. And with Hashem’s help, we saw real success.”

For six years, Ahuva built a beautiful Torah home, gave birth to her fourth son, and thrived in both family and career.

But everything changed on the second night of Chanukah.

“I was home with the kids and suddenly felt a strange dizziness. I was exhausted and started dropping things. I couldn’t even type a sentence without mistakes. I told myself it was just typical exhaustion that every mom feels.”

But her body had other plans.

“Without warning, I collapsed. My husband wasn’t home, and my kids were terrified. I was conscious, but I couldn’t speak or move. They were crying and yelling, ‘Mom, what happened?’ I felt like I was dying. That’s how it felt.”

Inside her heart, Ahuva began praying silently.

“I said, ‘Hashem, please don’t take me before my time. I haven’t done enough teshuvah. I have nothing to bring You.’”

Even though she had built a Torah home, dressed modestly, and ran a religious newspaper, she still felt like her connection wasn’t deep enough. “It all felt like it was from Him. And if He didn’t help me do real teshuvah from the depths of my heart where would I go?”

Eventually her husband arrived, and with help from neighbors, they called an ambulance. “On the way to the hospital, I asked him to call rabbis to pray for me. But deep down, I felt a strange sense of peace.”

A CT scan revealed the shocking news: two tumors in her brain. Immediate surgery was needed.

How did you react?

“Honestly, I felt calm. I kept repeating words of emunah (faith) in my mind. I truly believed I’d go into surgery, they’d remove the tumors, and I’d be back to normal soon. But I also used the time to do serious soul-searching. I knew that suffering doesn’t come without reason. And this pain, this fear and separation from my children was so great that it pushed me to cry out even more. I begged Hashem to help my kids grow up to be men of truth and Torah.”

Ahuva survived the surgery. But recovery was anything but easy.

“For the first time in my life, I began to see the pain of others. The people who suffer silently. The people who are far from Torah and still searching for meaning. I began to appreciate every small moment. Every opportunity to do good. Suddenly, doing laundry, changing a diaper, or even cooking, things I used to complain about felt like gifts.”

The surgery had been done, but the tumors remained. “I came home, but I couldn’t function. I couldn’t even care for my baby. He was raised by neighbors. I couldn’t change his diaper or hold him. I was physically stuck, and the sadness was overwhelming.”

Still, her neighbors rallied around her. They prayed, visited, called, and supported her with unconditional love.

So what kept you going?

“Faith. And the Torah classes of Rebbetzin Shulamit Fischer. I go once a week, sometimes more. From her classes, I learned that growth comes from greatness. If I wanted to return to life, I needed to tap into a deep well of inner strength. And I realized something powerful: Hashem is the one who writes, who raises my children, who breathes life into me. I’m just a vessel. Everything I have is from Him. There is nothing else.”

And what about writing?

“I recently had radiation and am still under constant monitoring. I can’t work full-time, but I write a personal column for the newspaper I created. I love writing and would love to return fully. But only Hashem knows what’s best. For now, I just want to live each moment fully, to strengthen my connection to Hashem, and to dedicate myself to loving others and doing good.

“This time, when the day comes, I want to arrive before Hashem with real spiritual baggage and no shame. I want to show that I used the life He gave me for something meaningful.”