What woke me up was the rapid pfhht! pfhht! of anti-missile rockets. It was 2:10 a.m. on April 14, and we’d known already about the possibility of Iran’s attack that night. But we were told that our area of Jerusalem should be safe: Iran wouldn’t risk doing any damage to Islamic holy sites in the Old City of Jerusalem.

Have you taken your place on the wall?

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I opened a curtain and peered out just in time to see a defense rocket strike an incoming drone. The explosion was at eye level, framed at the center of my ninth-floor window. A split second after the bright flash and bone-rattling whump, the building shook as the drone exploded. The alarm siren sounded, telling us we had 90 seconds to run down the nine flights of stairs to the hotel bomb shelter.

I breathlessly entered the shelter to find groups huddled around laptops, some people on phones, some in wheelchairs, and some laughing nervously. A few had backpacks containing supplies, while others had only their room keys, but we all had middle-of-the-night stares and were wearing whatever we’d happened to throw on before running out of our doors. After about 10 minutes without any further explosions, the hotel staff people said we could return to our rooms. Every little sound prevented any sleep that night.

The next morning was sunny and cool. The hotel staff members were friendly and relaxed. People were out walking their dogs, and traffic was brisk but not rushed. We had a meeting with author Joel Rosenberg at the King David Hotel and arrived to see people playing tennis, a family frolicking in the pool, and the hotel staff going about their jobs with casual efficiency. I had watched Joel report live at 4:45 a.m. Israel time, so I knew he’d slept as little as I had. I asked Joel how he was doing.

“Last night was historic,” he said. “For the first time in decades, rockets came at Israel from the east. I watched them explode over my backyard. I believe Israel must retaliate. That could potentially lead to a massive Middle East war. But when you live in Israel, you have to keep on living. You never get used to it, but you have to keep on living.”

We got reports that some flights were being cancelled. Frantically, we tried any option we could to find a way out of Israel. We prayed for a way where there seemed to be no way, as two of my rescheduled flights got cancelled. Meanwhile, we received texts from the U.S. State Department saying that all flights in and out of Tel Aviv were cancelled and that we should consider driving to Amman, Jordan, because there would be no diplomatic evacuation flights.

My wife, Jill, spent hours on airline websites that kept crashing, as well as trying to speak with reservation agents who abandoned her while she waited on hold. She finally found a small regional airline with flight openings to Rome within two days. But would they cancel? Joel and I had dinner the night before my flight, and part way through the evening he got a text: “You’re not going to like this. I’m getting reports that Israel is going to retaliate soon. This will probably result in an all-out war. I don’t know if you’ll get out tomorrow.”

My heart sank. We’d come to Israel to see how evangelicals could tangibly stand with Israel during this time of war. We were repeatedly asked, “Why are you here?” We’d reply that we loved Israel and the Jewish people and that we’d come to see how we could help. Servers and cab drivers; friends and strangers — all were moved to hear that evangelical Christians from America would come to Israel not as tourists, but as friends; not to sight-see, but to serve. Still, my nerves were on edge. I could feel the concussive thud of the explosions and the deep rumbling of our building. I wanted to go home. I told Joel that I didn’t want to leave just because things might get hard, but that I also didn’t want to stay, because things might get really hard! Joel graciously said: “It’s OK. Your job here is done. You’ve experienced the reality of our lives. You felt a little of what we feel every day. Go home and tell people our story.”

We have an unprecedented opportunity right now to love Jewish people because we believe in the Jewish Messiah. The entire nation of Israel remains in trauma since the attacks of October 7. There are still 137 missing hostages, five of whom are Americans. Some 500,000 people have been displaced from their homes in the north of Israel. That’s the equivalent of 30 million people in America losing everything and trying to keep on living.

Jews all over the world are living with a heightened sense of fear because of rising antisemitism. Conversations about life and faith and why we love Jewish people are easier than ever to have now because Jews want to talk about what is going on. As a messianic friend in Israel said: “I just listen to their pain and let them ask questions. And if they ask me why I care, I tell them I love them because a Jewish Man saved my life once.”

Additionally, Muslim friends are seeing the mask of Islam being pulled off and an expression of their faith that they want no part of. And many are having dreams about “The Man in White” who talks to them about their worth. His love gives them a reason for hope, unlike the relentless demands of an angry Allah. And imagine what will happen when someone with a Muslim background begins to love someone of a Jewish background because a Jewish Man saved their life once.

I’m writing this on the plane as I finally fly home. Joel had told me: “Once you get 50 miles outside of Israel, you’ll finally begin to let down, because the spiritual warfare here is so intense.” I feel that. As intercessors, we can stand with the purposes of God for Israel from wherever we are. He longs for all of Israel to return to Him, to repent of idolatry and dead religion.

Many Jews have no knowledge of what they believe, and they live a completely secular life. But many of them believe that Jesus is bad and that Christians hate them. We can pray that the Lord would reveal Himself to them. We can pray for our messianic brothers and sisters throughout the world who are often rejected by their Jewish families and misunderstood even by their Christian friends. This could be their hour of leadership within the Body of Christ. And we can pray for the millions of Muslims as the satanic rage against “the Little Satan” (Israel) and “the Big Satan” (America) continues to cause unspeakable horrors.

This is what we were made for, intercessors. We have to tell the story, because a Jewish Man saved our lives once.

Pray for Israel, Jews, and Muslims, and shout out praise for the Jewish Man who saves lives.

Luis Cataldo is an intercessor with a heart to pray for Israel and for the Jewish people, as well as for Muslims and the Middle East. Photo Credit: Myriam Zilles on Unsplash.