I wear two watches. The watch on my left wrist is set to local time. The watch on my right wrist used to be set to Israel time, eight hours ahead. Now, it is set to Jewish time — stuck at 6:30 a.m. indefinitely, the exact time that Hamas invaded our homeland on Oct. 7, 150 days ago today.

It’s a relatively standard watch, with a shiny metal frame and a white face. But in the place of numbers at the hour increments, there are Hebrew letters, counting up numerically from aleph for one, bet for two, and so on. 

On the right side, there’s a date dial, and just below that are three Hebrew words: “Yevarechecha Hashem Veyishmerecha,” the first line of the Priestly Blessing, a prayer for the well-being of the Jewish community. In English, it means “May G-d watch over you and guard you.”

When I bought my watch during my Birthright trip to Israel last May, it was a symbol of my connection to my family, my people, and my people’s history. When it was set to Israel time, a glance at my right wrist immediately connected me with my five cousins and aunt and uncle in Beit Shemesh, 45 minutes west of Jerusalem. 

Initially, I didn’t feel as connected to the Priestly Blessing. I didn’t feel like I necessarily needed to be guarded.

That changed 150 days ago, on Oct. 7.

Over 1,100 innocent Jews and other residents of Israel were murdered in cold blood. Hamas terrorists intentionally targeted civilian infrastructure such as schools and youth centers in small communal villages known as kibbutzim, populated by civilians. Kibbutz Re’im, for instance, hosted a music festival promoting peace before it was attacked and over 360 attendees were murdered. Re’im itself has not a single active-duty soldier, according to survivor Gal Cohel-Solal, who recently spoke at Washington University.

Over 250 more were kidnapped by Hamas. Over half of them remain captive 150 days later. That includes one-year-old Kfir Bibas, who has now been held captive for over one-third of his life.

On Oct. 7, time for the Jewish people stopped.

In November, my watch stopped, too. Whether it was a battery issue or a mechanical issue, I don’t know. But curiously, the second hand still tries to tick along. Always at the 58 second mark, ticking every second into the 59th spot before springing back.

But I still wear my watch. I’ve reset the time to 6:30 a.m. and the date dial to the seventh of the month. The second hand continuously tries to tick forward — and continuously fails.

The watch has a new meaning now — it’s a reminder that time for my people stopped on Oct. 7, and it hasn’t restarted.

So today, 150 days after the single deadliest day for the Jewish people since the Holocaust, I ask you to take a few minutes to remember the 1,200 innocent souls we lost and the dozens who are still held captive in Gaza. 

To those still captive, I think of you when I read the words on my watch: Yevarechecha Hashem Veyishmerecha. May G-d watch over you and guard you.