Sirens wailed. Trails of fire streaked across the night sky. Other pinpricks of light meandered toward them, flashed and became clouds, then smears in the sky, slowly descending and dissipating. I should have been in a safe room. Instead I was mesmerized watching ballistic missiles from Iran, Israeli interceptors, and flaming shrapnel raining down above Jerusalem. The few missiles that evaded the Iron Dome that night finished their deadly flights in the streets of Tel Aviv, Ramat Gan and Rishon LeZion. Iran was exacting revenge on the people of Israel for strikes against its nuclear facilities earlier that day.

Just the night before, I had stood on stage at the International Convention Center in Haifa, singing “Vision on the Horizon.” Our troupe was performing Celtic Throne, an Irish dance show, sponsored by the same organization that publishes the Trumpet. My wife and three children, along with several dozen other dancers, musicians and crew, had performed more than 60 shows across America over the past five years, and this summer was our first tour overseas, starting with Israel. After performing twice in Tel Aviv and once in Haifa, suddenly the tour in this country was over.

Being in Israel before the Iran conflict had been surreal, instructive and moving. Israelis were already at war. Their hearts are with the 49 hostages, living and dead, still captive to Hamas terrorists since Oct. 7, 2023. Everywhere—on buildings, bridges, fences, T-shirts—are yellow ribbons and signs with their pictures and pleas to “Bring them home now!” A mother of two small children told me how traumatizing the previous 611 days had been. Her children’s favorite game, sadly, is to make air siren noises to try to get Mommy and Daddy to hide. Our troupe marveled at the Israelis’ resilience and sober optimism.

We performed for 5,000 people over those three shows. We were unsure how we would be received. The answer, it turned out, was: with untrammeled enthusiasm. The Israelis were so grateful that a dance troupe from America would come, especially under the shadow of danger and despite a world that opposes the victims of October 7 more than the perpetrators. In fighting Hamas, they have demonstrated impressive will to defy those irrational critics and stand alone. But they still deeply appreciate a hand of friendship. Audiences that, we were told, “never stand” gave us raucous standing ovations. Reviews brimmed with praise and poetry.

Celtic Throne actually evokes a complex mix of emotions. This show celebrates family, filling the stage with siblings and cousins (and one dad/uncle: me) who genuinely love each other. Seeing children, teens and young adults executing intricate dance steps in kaleidoscopic formations movingly testifies of discipline, hard work and joy in accomplishment. Set to a stirring orchestral score, the spectacle depicts hope and vision, good conquering evil. The experience is more poignant for its contrast with our hopeless world, which is hostile to family, filled with unhappy youths, unjust in its condemnations, and murderous in its warfare. Many Israelis thanked us for providing much-needed refreshment amid turmoil and tragedy, for sharing our joy and hope.

Our scheduled shows in Beersheba and Jerusalem were preempted by the Iran conflict. We somberly watched footage of lethal missiles striking civilian buildings in Tel Aviv and Haifa, whose streets we had just walked days before. With the airports closed, our priority became finding a way out of Israel so we could continue our tour in Britain.

The lessons we had learned in the conflict zone were amplified by the lessons of our exodus. As one option after another failed, we prayed and fasted for deliverance. Then a series of miracles cleared our path. It began with reversing the steps of ancient Israel, traveling from the Promised Land to Egypt—and then a modern-day parting of the Red Sea to draw us back out, dealing with hotheaded and even crooked workers and officials. (Reporters Without Borders ranks Egypt in the bottom 6 percent of all nations on its corruption index.) Biblical injunctions to leave spiritual Egypt and sin, and promises to deliver by way of miracles as with the Israelites anciently, had fresh resonance.

Over a journey of some 45 hours, our 56-member cast and crew, carrying more than 150 bags with costumes and equipment, traveled 9,250 miles, crossing dozens of checkpoints, some in Saudi Arabia and Turkey, before we all arrived in the English Midlands. The voyage was instructive, unpredictable, exhausting, exhilarating, unifying and faith-building. The hostilities we escaped are only a tiny foretaste of the warfare about to engulf this world. The protection we beseeched God for and that He provided, dramatic as it felt, was nowhere near as dramatic as what He promises to provide for His people in the time ahead (e.g. Revelation 12:14-16).

Reflecting on that experience, I think of the Israelis still in the war zone, still fighting for survival. The flash of joy we provided feels so ephemeral, so inadequate. The warmth of their hospitality and enthusiasm showed that they are hungry for hope. And God wants to give it to them, and not just through a show. Isaiah foretold a most inspiring message God will proclaim to the Jews in these final days of man, telling His prophet: “[S]ay unto the cities of Judah, Behold your God!” (Isaiah 40:9). There really is a spectacular vision on the horizon for Israel, and for the world.

The two canceled Celtic Throne shows—one in Jerusalem, the city God has chosen (2 Chronicles 6:6)—symbolize a much larger job unfinished … for now. We yearn to return.