Naomi Limor Sedek | Jewish News

A journey of hope:reflections from my trip to Israel

Naomi Limor Sedek — Thu, 18 Sep 2025 16:44:28 +0000

This summer, I traveled to Israel for my niece’s wedding. It was a joyous occasion, full of laughter, dancing, and the kind of celebration that reminds us what it means to live fully and proudly as Jews. Surrounded by family, I felt the timeless bond that ties us to our people and our homeland.

But my trip was not only about joy. I had visited the site of the October 7 attacks on previous trips to Israel, but this time I went with my husband and our adult children. The experience was profoundly different. Standing together before the photographs of young lives cut short, we felt the weight of unimaginable loss in a new way. My children were deeply moved, realizing these were peers, young people who should have been building futures filled with promise. The grief was overwhelming. Yet, even in that place of mourning and remembrance, we found hope. The people of Israel, resilient and courageous, remind us that while tragedy leaves scars, it does not erase our spirit.

Over the past 24 months of war, we have witnessed a wide range of emotions and opinions from family, friends, and strangers alike. Israel is a complicated society. There are protests in the streets, solidarity with hostage families, and communities suffering deeply during wartime.

Conversations wrestle with what needs to be done, what has already been done, and what everyone wishes could be. There are no black-or-white answers, only the complexity of a reality where grief and hope live side by side. What unites us is that we are a people who grieve together, who share values rooted in Jewish tradition, and who remain committed to investing in the future of our families and our people.

As Jewish people, we carry the legacy of our ancestors within us. Our history is marked by hardship and exile but also illuminated by perseverance and triumph. We continue to build, to dream, and to live with meaning. That strength comes from community and from legacy, the knowledge that our story stretches back thousands of years and is still being written today.

Now, more than ever, it is important that our children and grandchildren experience Israel for themselves. Programs such as the Simon Family Passport to Israel make that possible, giving young people the chance to touch the land, meet the people, and carry those memories into their own Jewish journeys. I encourage families to apply and give the next generation the gift of connection that will last a lifetime.

As we enter this season of renewal, may we carry forward resilience and joy, and may we walk confidently into the future, rooted in our past, connected in the present, and filled with hope for what lies ahead.

Naomi Limor Sedek is president and CEO of Tidewater Jewish Foundation.

Itzik and Simon Sedek laying tefillin at the Nova memorial site.

Itzik, Tali, Naomi and Simon Sedek at the wedding.

Five years in: A reflection on resilience, readiness, and relationship

Naomi Limor Sedek — Thu, 07 Aug 2025 18:50:18 +0000

When I began my journey with the Tidewater Jewish Foundation in July 2020, I walked into a world unlike anything we had known. It was the height of the pandemic.

Introductions were made over Zoom and relationship-building required more persistence, patience, and heart than ever before. In a time when it was difficult to be together physically, our community found ways to remain spiritually and philanthropically connected. That resilience became my first glimpse of what makes this Jewish community so extraordinary.

With the unwavering support of the TJF board, partners, and professional team, and anchored by a clear strategic plan, we began to build. Year by year, step by step, we expanded grantmaking opportunities, introduced new programs, and created innovative ways for people to give with meaning. Our fund balance remained strong, even as the markets fluctuated.

And then came October 7, 2023.

When crisis struck Israel, this community mobilized like I have never seen before. Within hours, TJF was not just ready; we were built for this. Our systems, our people, and our mission aligned in real time to support the homeland and provide security, dignity, and care for our people in need. It wasn’t just about responsiveness. It was about readiness. And that readiness came from years of legacy-building, fueled by values that have guided the Jewish people for centuries. Looking back, I am in awe, not of what I’ve done, but of what we’ve done together.

Over these five years, I’ve had the privilege to witness something remarkable: the philanthropic journey in action. From a baby naming to a bar or bat mitzvah, through weddings, business transitions, and memorials, we’ve walked alongside families at every milestone. I’ve seen parents, children, and even grandchildren work together across generations to create legacies that reflect their shared values and vision for the Jewish future. These are not just transactions. They are moments of intention, of memory, of purpose. We have worked hard to meet our donors on their timeline, with no pressure. Just open doors, open hearts, and honest conversation.

As we look ahead to the years to come, our focus remains clear: to build and deploy exponentially greater resources that empower Jewish life in Tidewater and beyond.

At TJF, we believe that legacy belongs to everyone, and that meaningful conversations are where it begins. We’re here to help individuals and families align their values with the evolving needs of our community, whether that means supporting security, Jewish education, advocacy, connection to Israel, or innovative Jewish experiences. Legacy isn’t only about endowments. It’s about the choices we make today to create a stronger, safer, more vibrant tomorrow.

If you’re curious about what your own legacy might look like, let’s talk. The first step is simply starting the conversation.

Naomi Limor Sedek is president & CEO, Tidewater Jewish Foundation.

Weary, yet resolute: Reflections from ‘Stand Together – an event of Unity, Strength, and Resilience’

Naomi Limor Sedek — Thu, 12 Dec 2024 20:48:40 +0000

I stood in Nationals Park on November 10, 2024, gazing across the vast expanse of empty seats. While we hoped for a crowd of tens of thousands to gather in unity, the turnout of closer to 5,000 felt like a stark reminder of the challenges we face. The energy was markedly different from last year’s rally when hundreds of thousands came together after the October 7 attacks to unequivocally stand with Israel. This year, the stadium’s emptiness felt heavy, a reflection of waning engagement and attention.

The celebrity headliners, who had brought so much anticipation, gave heartfelt performances. Their presence was appreciated, but their voices could not fill the gaps in the stands—or the weariness in our hearts. Over a year later, the conflict with Hamas persists, and the yearning for resolution grows more desperate. Hostages remain in captivity, and the urgency for steadfast support from Israel’s allies is palpable.

Standing there, I felt a small measure of relief that my three young adult children were not with me. They are passionately fighting their own battles for Jewish identity and Israel on their college campuses and in their social circles. To see the empty seats and feel the muted energy of the rally would have been deflating and discouraging for them. They are already navigating a world that often feels unkind and unwelcoming to their voices. I want them to carry the hope and determination that sustain us, not the disillusionment that an event like this could invoke.

At the same time, here in the United States, we’re grappling with a troubling surge in antisemitism. Communities that once stood with us now feel distant. The silence of major organizations we have supported through decades of shared struggles is deafening. Many of us feel isolated, questioning who will stand with us as we continue this fight.

The Jewish community is weary—so deeply weary. We’re tired of fighting the same battles, decade after decade. We’re tired of witnessing history repeat itself in ways that strip us of our dignity, our safety, and our hope. And yet, as I stood there in that echoing stadium, one truth was clear: We cannot afford to stop standing.

We must stand, even when the world turns away. We must stand for our people, our homeland, and the principles that sustain us as a global community. We must stand because to sit down would be to give up, and giving up is not an option.

As we face these challenges, I am reminded of a truth that strengthens my resolve: securing the future of the Jewish community must remain at the forefront of our efforts. Securing assets for the Jewish community through legacy gifts is of paramount importance. These gifts demonstrate that we are standing together, not only for today but with those who will follow after us. By empowering future generations to live, thrive, and never give up, legacy giving becomes a powerful testament to our enduring commitment. It is our way of saying, We have not given up, and neither should you.

The fight is hard, but our resolve must be harder. Our history is one of resilience, and our future depends on that same unyielding strength. Weary as we may be, our survival—and our legacy—demand that we remain resolute.
We will not grow tired. We will stand.

Naomi Limor Sedek is president and CEO of Tidewater Jewish Foundation. She may be reached at 757-965-6109 or nsedek@tjfva.org.

Reflections from Israel and my 50th birthday

Naomi Limor Sedek — Thu, 14 Mar 2024 19:38:04 +0000

My family’s winter visit to Israel was a gift for my 50th birthday. This trip held special significance as my mother, born to Holocaust survivors, accompanied me, along with one of my brothers who hadn’t set foot in Israel for 31 years. Our journey was not a typical vacation but a poignant trip, joining a small group to witness the aftermath of October 7th and engage in volunteer work.

I find myself still grappling with the profound experiences that unfolded before me. Navigating through the emotional landscape, we visited families connected to my grandmother’s survival story, explored the Nova Festival massacre site, spent time in the ICU with soldiers injured in Gaza, toured kibbutzim destroyed on October 7th, and contributed through tasks such as picking grapefruit and cleaning kohlrabi. The hotels where we stayed were still housing internally displaced families from the south and north, unable to return home due to safety concerns for what is now five months. It was evident that this was not a typical tourist experience but a necessary journey for diaspora Jews in the current challenging climate.

This was my most meaningful experience of my lifetime in Israel and it will be a visit that I won’t forget and will haunt my memories.

An experience in Israel usually charges my Jewish communal battery and my soul. This was not that trip. This time I needed to travel to Israel with a fully charged battery ready to give more of myself than ever. This was like no other visit to Israel – it was a mission to help, volunteer, and provide strength and solidarity. Immersed in the emotional tapestry of this resilient nation, the heart of my journey lay in absorbing the impactful stories of individuals dating back to October 7th and its aftermath. I will share just a few of those accounts here.

Venturing into the realm of personal narratives, I visited families in the ICU, sharing in the struggles of soldiers who were critically injured. Some had faced near-death situations in January but now exhibited progress, able to perform daily tasks independently, such as showering. It became apparent that the soldiers of the Tik Tok generation, often underestimated, surprised everyone with their resilience and exceptional response to the challenges of war. I will continue to pray for refuah shelma for Eran Ben Elka, Oded Ben Chaya, Raphael ben Elana, and Ori Yehuda Ben Tziporah Esther. May their families continue to feel the love of all the people of Israel from around the globe.

One poignant stop included the site of the Nova Festival massacre, where the fields were carpeted with my mother’s favorite flower, the Calaniot, anemones, and wildflowers of white and yellow. It was the time of Darom Adom, the Scarlett South. This bloom happens every year naturally, but this year they have sprung up from the blood and ashes of the 365 mostly young concert goers, murdered, tortured, mutilated, and raped. While walking through the makeshift memorial, the sounds of war could be heard from over the border in Gaza. It was so close. I could understand how the concert goers were trapped in the space surrounded by hundreds of terrorists. Survivors hid in ravines, garbage bins, and clumps of trees, they pretended to be dead scattered among the bodies of their friends. These images from the videos shot by Hamas terrorists themselves and those visuals from the testimony will never leave my memory. The memorial is now a makeshift pilgrimage site for all Israelis: secular, religious, army recruits, the friends and families paying respects at the last known location of their loved ones, and for those coming to Israel from around the world to bear witness. This experience underscored the unsettling reality that such tragedies were never supposed to occur within the Jewish state. A modern-day pogrom was not supposed to happen when we had an Israel Defense Forces, let alone inside Israel. The rawness of these emotions lingers within me, and I am still processing it all, emphasizing the importance of being present in the moment.

In Kfar Azza, we met with Zohar, a survivor, who shared with us the efforts of Israelis on the kibbutzim surrounding Gaza, particularly those who were peace activists. These individuals worked tirelessly towards peace, organizing programs to support Palestinians, employing Gazans, and promoting coexistence. However, the shocking revelation on October 7th changed everything. Those whom they were helping, seemingly innocent Gazans, played a role in planning the attack, gathering information, and aiding terrorists. The harsh reality has shattered the dream for many, revealing a truth that challenges the values believed to be shared among all humans. Until the world wakes up from its fairy tale, true peace remains an elusive goal. The actions on October 7th and the treatment of hostages by those on the other side provide a stark reminder to open our eyes to the reality before us.

After our visit to Kibbutz Kfar Azza, we met up with my friend, Elisa. Our friendship was forged through Israeli folk dancing, road trips to NYC, and surviving Sylvia Barak Fishman’s American Jewish Literature class together at Brandeis. This time, my visit was not just about catching up but delving into the profound experiences that Israel offers. We strolled through familiar streets of Jerusalem, seeking Magen David necklaces and Kiddush cups as souvenirs. Our dinner in a bustling restaurant accompanied by live music, provided a welcome sense of normalcy amid the profound experiences of the trip.

For Elisa, our visit acted as a countermeasure to the unsettling messages she had received while sick in bed the previous week. Battling bronchitis, fever, and vomiting, she found solace in the normalcy we brought. The messages detailing antisemitism, reluctance to stand with fellow Jews, and the constant qualifying of statements about Israel were overwhelming for her as an American Israeli. Elisa said that our visit was the medicine she needed – a dose of people standing on the right side of history. As we recounted our experiences at dinner, it became clear how crucial it is for people worldwide to hear these stories and meet individuals on both sides of the border. The citizens of the world need to understand the reality, not just rely on memes and social media posts.

Even while in Israel, students’ experiences of being harassed on college campuses since October 7th were at the surface. In fact, parents of one of the students on our trip had to meet with the college president while we were in Israel to discuss plans for the student’s safe return to campus. Against this backstory, we prayed and spent time together at the Kotel bringing in Shabbat. The singing and dancing at the Kotel on Shabbat night on both the women’s and men’s side brought the college students on our trip to tears because unlike being ostracized on their campus since October 7th, they belonged and once again felt at home. The power of Israel continues to unite our people.

Reflecting on the sentiments of the people I encountered, I found myself fielding questions about their reactions to the unfolding events. Our dialogue delved deeper, resonating with the gravity of the situation. I believe that a new normal in supporting Israel is emerging, a need to invest in the rebuilding of both country and infusion of support in the healing of trauma and loss. It is a necessary endeavor and will require that each of us digs deep for this effort. The overwhelming reaction from Israelis, so thankful to see people coming to Israel, underscored the reality that they feel they are fighting alone. They see what we in America are now struggling with on college campuses and the rise of antisemitism around the world and appreciate that in this moment of global challenges, Jews from the diaspora are coming to lend a helping hand in Israel.

I encourage others to partake in a meaningful Israel journey, either through the United Jewish Federation of Tidewater’s Solidarity Mission in June or any other experience now. Personally bearing witness can help our Jewish family in Israel usher in the initial steps of healing.

Am Yisrael Chai – the nation of Israel lives.

Naomi Limor Sedek with her mother, Susan Limor, among trees planted on Tu B’Shevat as a memorial to victims of Oct 7.

Picking grapefruit.

Naomi Limor Sedek’s volunteer travel group at Soroka Medical Center.

The site of the Nova Musical Festival.

Packing non-perishables at Jaffa Institute with American college students.

Naomi Limor Sedek, her mother, Susan Limor, and brother, Josef Limor, picking kohlrabi.

Tidewater Shinshinim Alma Ben Chorin with Naomi Limor Sedek.

Naomi Limor Sedek and Tidewater Shinshinim Aya Sever visit at the airport.

New section of Har Herzl, Israel’s national cemetery, for soldiers killed since Oct. 7.