On Rosh Hashana, I wasn't in shul. I didn't pray for acceptance, forgiveness, or anything of the sort. Ok, so my body was there. But it wasn't a vessel for my own desires. JobShuk had taken over.

Like a newborn child with a 1-in-10 chance of survival (lo aleinu - we shouldn't know from such things), JobShuk was terrified for its life. As we said the prayer recognizing G-d's role in deciding who will live and who will die, who will be rich and who will be poor, JobShuk shed tears.

On the eve of Yom Kippur, I ask G-d to allow me to pray for myself and on behalf of JobShuk. Though I have few merits of my own, may He grant me, my family, and JobShuk much success in hope that we will all walk in His ways, be honest and hard-working in business, working with Him, and not against Him. And may our pure intentions for a modest livelihood and the rebuilding of Israel and the Temple be accepted as a bride for our future success.

I's also like to spend these last few minutes before Yom Kippur to thank all of those who have helped so far, and all of those who will help in this effort.

Have a great year.