I was imagining myself living in Israel while lighting the first candle on the first night of Hanukkah. If I would meditate on that flame in the holy land, what would come to mind?

First, of course, there would be the hostages. Their flame burns more urgently every minute, a reminder that we are not allowed to forget them; that we must do all we can to bring them home as soon as possible.

Then there is the flame of gratitude; gratitude for the scores of soldiers who have sacrificed their lives and bodies for their country; the doctors and nurses who are caring for the wounded; the countless volunteers who have rescued refugees and those in need; the spirit of solidarity that has sustained the Israeli flame in the most vicious of winds.

That first Hanukkah flame would also bring to mind Jews and others around the world who have come to Israel's aid since Oct. 7. That includes everyone from volunteers on farms and community centers to philanthropists and Jewish groups opening their hearts and pockets to activists and social media influencers defending Israel and making its case to the world.

Finally, that first flame would land me on what I consider the Israeli miracle of 2024. That miracle can best be described as extreme complacency being replaced with extreme vigilance.

Who knew that "extreme complacency" would ever be words associated with a country born and raised on vigilance; a country surrounded by existential threats where complacency was the one luxury it could never afford.

Indeed, everything about Oct. 7 was extreme, from the inexplicable and unprecedented invasion of a terror army to the savagery of the attacks to the bravery of those who fought back on that day- and, yes, to the level of complacency from the leadership that contributed to that day of horrors.

But if the eternal Jewish will to survive revolves around our ability to learn and grow from our blunders and tragedies, the past year lives in that spirit.

"We'll never be surprised again" seems to be the new Israeli mood.

"Almost 15 months after Hamas invaded," David Horovitz writes in Times of Israel, "a catastrophic Israeli political and military complacency regarding this country's fundamental safety in the region has now been replaced by a recognition that every front is potentially unstable."

That means every front, even those we think have been decimated. That means hyper vigilance in Lebanon, where Hezbollah is down, but, as Horovitz writes, is "regarded as emphatically not out."

That means Syria, where "Israel is not merely wary, but has been proactive in minimizing the military consequences should the rebels' ostensible congeniality prove only as superficial as their suits."

In the wake of Oct. 7, every front and potential front -- from Yemen to Iran to Iraq to Jordan to Turkey to Egypt and others- is now a threat to be taken seriously, no matter how encouraging the news.

We all thought Israel was already at that level of vigilance on Oct. 6, 2023, but it wasn't. It needed a shattering lesson- a lesson that would force it to rekindle the flame of extreme vigilance.

Israel's survival depends on that vigilance.

So, on this first night of Hanukkah, as I imagine myself lighting candles in the holy land, that flame of vigilance is my Hanukkah miracle.