Back to the Source: How Shabbat Brought Me Home

Losing My Shabbat, and Myself

I grew up in a Shabbat-observant family. As a child, I loved Shabbat. It wasn’t just something we did; it was part of who we were. But everything changed when I was 15. My parents divorced, and during that personal upheaval, I “divorced” Shabbat too, alongside everything connected to religion.

Slowly, it all slipped away. I disconnected completely from Judaism.

I moved to Tel Aviv, the city that never stops. There, Shabbat felt like just another day. There wasn't a gentle atmosphere. No serenity. No soul. Life in Tel Aviv was all about living in the moment and that moment felt empty.

I felt hollow inside. To fill the void, I chased after adventures and thrills, trying to drown out the echoing sense of nothing. For four and a half years, I lived like that.

Then one day, out of nowhere, a video of Rabbi Zamir Cohen popped up on my Facebook feed. His voice, his words, it all felt so familiar and comforting. I was captivated.

I started watching video after video. I couldn’t stop. Soon I was hooked and began listening to other rabbis too: Rabbi Shneor Guetta, Rabbi Yigal Cohen, and others. My mornings started with playlists of their teachings. Slowly, something inside me began to stir.

The Shabbat That Changed Everything

One week, I decided I was going to keep Shabbat again. Just one. I cooked chulent and fish and worked hard to get everything ready before candlelighting. It was winter, Shabbat came in early, and I was still working Fridays at a restaurant.

That first Shabbat wasn’t easy. But I pushed through. And I kept going.

Then came COVID. The restaurants shut down, and I left Tel Aviv and returned to my hometown of Be’er Sheva. There, keeping Shabbat was easier. My mother’s food, her Shabbat hotplate, and hot water urn — everything was ready. The rhythm of Shabbat was natural again.

And that’s when everything changed.

After just two weeks of keeping Shabbat, I met the man who would become my husband. I felt the blessings pouring into my life, unexpected, sweet, and constant. It felt like Hashem opened the gates of heaven, and everything began to flow. My whole life turned around in an instant.

This is my story. And my message is simple:
Keep Shabbat.
It truly is the makor haberacha (the source of blessing, as referenced in the Lecha Dodi prayer recited at the beginning of Shabbat).

Have a Shabbat Story? We'd Love to Hear It.

What inspired you to start keeping Shabbat? What moment changed everything?

We’re collecting stories from people like you—real, personal journeys to Shabbat observance. If you’d like to inspire others, share your story with us.

You can start by telling us about yourself (optional): your name, age, geographic location, family status, and profession. Then tell us what Shabbat means to you today.

Send us your story in writing (feel free to include a photo) or make a short video and send it to shuli@htv.co.il. Submissions will be published at our discretion.