Living Emunah

There are moments in a person's life when Hashem is calling upon him to elevate himself to true greatness. At times, Hashem will give a person an extremely difficult test, one that requires him to summon every ounce of inner strength to withstand it. Some people fail the test and never realize the tremendous potential that lay within them. Others seize the moment, rise to the challenge, and are catapulted to heights they could never have reached otherwise. The sefer Even Sapir brings a powerful story that illustrates this idea. There was a young man, seventeen years old, named Shalom, from Teiman. He was already a budding Torah scholar and was exceptionally handsome. To earn a living, he worked as a spice merchant, going door to door selling his goods. One day, a non-Jewish woman called out to him and asked him to bring in some spices so she could look at them. Shalom stepped just slightly inside, making sure to leave the door wide open. Suddenly, the woman shut the door and told him that her husband was the head of the city. She threatened him that if he did not sin with her immediately, she would have him put to death. In that moment, Shalom was faced with a test similar to that of Yosef HaTzaddik. He asked the woman if he could use the restroom, and she showed him where it was. The apartment was on the third floor of the building. Inside the bathroom, Shalom noticed an open window. He turned to Hashem and said that he would rather jump out of the window than commit the aveirah. He vowed that if he survived, he would make aliyah to Eretz Yisrael. He jumped. Miraculously, he landed on his feet, unharmed, and immediately began running. From there, his journey took him through India, Baghdad, and Damascus, until he finally arrived in Yerushalayim. Once there, he went to Rav Gedaliah Chayon, the head of Yeshivat Beit El, the great yeshivah for Kabbalah, and asked if he could serve as the caretaker. He asked for nothing in return other than a roof over his head and food to eat. His thirst for Torah was so great that he wanted nothing more than to hear the holy words of Torah spoken by the great chachamim of the yeshivah. As he cleaned the bet midrash and served the rabbis, he listened carefully to the shiurim and absorbed every word. One day, the rosh yeshivah posed an exceptionally difficult question. None of the rabbis in the beit midrash could answer it. There were scholars there in their sixties and seventies who had devoted their lives to Torah, yet no one could offer a satisfactory response. That night, before the rabbis returned to learn at chatzot, Shalom, the caretaker, took out a pen and began writing a detailed teshuvah to answer the rosh yeshivah's question. He quoted numerous sources and wrote a masterful explanation. He quietly placed the paper inside the rosh yeshivah's sefer and returned to his work. When the rosh yeshivah opened his sefer to begin his shiur, he was astonished. After reading the teshuvah, he asked who among them had written it. No one answered. He said that such writing could only have come from a sage of earlier generations—perhaps even from Eliyahu HaNavi. A week later, the same thing happened again. Another brilliant teshuvah appeared. Again, no one claimed authorship. The entire yeshivah buzzed with speculation about the mysterious Torah giant in their midst. The rosh yeshivah lived across from the yeshivah, and his daughter, aware of her father's deep curiosity, began watching the bet midrash late at night. One evening, she saw Shalom, the caretaker, writing a teshuvah. She told her father what she had seen. Rav Gedaliah approached Shalom and demanded the truth. Shalom admitted that he was the one writing the teshuvot. The rosh yeshivah was stunned that someone so young possessed such mastery, especially in the hidden wisdom of Torah. Although Shalom tried to conceal his greatness, it was now revealed. He eventually married the rosh yeshivah's daughter, and when Rav Gedaliah passed away, he appointed Shalom as the new rosh yeshivah—at the age of twenty-seven. This Shalom was none other than Rav Shalom Sharabi, known as the Rashash, one of the greatest mekubalim who ever lived. Rav Chaim Palachi wrote that the Rashash possessed the neshamah of the Arizal. Rav Yitzchak Kaduri said that one who has not learned the writings of the Rashash has not yet entered the true realm of Kabbalah. When Rav Shalom Sharabi was later asked about the source of his extraordinary greatness in Torah, he attributed it to that moment of test with the woman. After overcoming it, he said, his mind opened, and Torah began to flow from him like a wellspring. When Hashem sends a person an especially difficult test, it may very well be His way of calling that person to greatness. The test may feel overwhelming, but if a person perseveres and follows Hashem, he will reap rewards that last for all eternity.

When a person has been waiting for a shidduch, or for parnassah, or for refu'ah shelema, the hardest part is not the difficulty itself, but the fear that maybe it will never come. Years have passed, doors seem to be closed, and the person begins to think: if nothing has happened yet, who says it ever will? That way of thinking might make sense if Hashem needed time to gradually bring a salvation. But we know that Hashem brings the yeshu'ah כְּהֶרֶף עַיִן , in the blink of an eye. An older single may think, I am doing everything right. I am praying, working on myself, improving in so many areas, yet it feels like nothing is moving, like I am never going to get married. But every single thing that this person has done has made a real impact. When everything comes together and the moment of salvation arrives, it will come so quickly that the person will not believe how fast it happened. Many people who waited ten, fifteen, twenty years, or even longer, will tell you the same thing. For years, nothing was happening. It felt like things would never change. And then suddenly, a name was mentioned casually, a phone call came from an unexpected source, something nobody could have predicted—and the yeshu'ah arrived. A man called me, overflowing with gratitude to Hashem. He told me that shidduchim had been so painful for his daughter over the past five years that he honestly thought she would never get married. The pain and agony they endured were indescribable. And then, literally כְּהֶרֶף עַיִן , a new name surfaced. A boy younger than her, someone they never would have thought of on their own. Today, they are preparing for her wedding. It is the perfect shidduch—the kind of boy she had always hoped for, from the type of family she had always wanted. In one moment, they went from the depths of despair to the greatest heights of joy. The same pattern exists with parnassah. People can struggle for years to earn a living, and then suddenly one opportunity opens. One deal, one connection, one idea. The same mouth that once said, "I don't see how I will ever manage," now says, "I can't believe this didn't happen earlier." Someone told me about his friend who had to borrow money from his in-laws just to cover basic expenses, and less than a year later, he became a multimillionaire. It didn't make sense—but it didn't have to. The moment Hashem decides to give, it happens in the way He chooses. A man told me that for many years he dreamed of opening a store selling a certain type of merchandise. He had customers and demand, but he could never afford the rent. Renting a store required first month's rent, a security deposit, and key money—tens of thousands of dollars he simply didn't have. So for years, he sold everything from his home. Recently, he attended an event, and someone casually asked him if he knew anyone looking to rent a store. He asked for details. It turned out to be on the exact block he had always wanted. The owner was desperate to rent the space and said he was willing to waive the security deposit and the key money. Just like that, the man finally got the store he had dreamed of for years. For so long, it seemed like it would never happen. But the moment Hashem said it was time, He sent the right person directly to him with the opportunity. Yeshuat Hashem is always כְּהֶרֶף עַיִן . Our job is to continue praying, to continue growing, and to never give up hope—even when nothing seems to be moving. Because when the moment arrives, everything changes at once.

This week's parashah, Vayechi, is known as a parashah setumah —a closed parashah—because there is no space in the Torah between the end of Vayigash and the beginning of Vayechi. Rashi explains that one reason for this is that the eyes and hearts of the Jewish people became "closed" when Yaakov Avinu passed away, from the pain and pressure of the bondage. The mefarshim ask a powerful question. Rashi himself writes elsewhere that the actual slavery in Mitzrayim did not begin until after the last of the Shevatim passed away. If so, how can Rashi say that immediately after Yaakov's passing their hearts became closed because of the slavery? The Be'er HaParashah, citing the Ma'agalei Tzedek, explains this beautifully. We know from other pesukim that the Shevatim originally came down to Mitzrayim only because of the famine. Once Yaakov passed away, and they went back to Eretz Yisrael to bury him in the Me'arat HaMachpelah, the famine was already long over. Logically, they should have stayed in Eretz Yisrael. Yaakov himself had been commanded to go down to Mitzrayim, but his children had not been given such a command. So why did they return to Mitzrayim? The answer must be that Hashem closed their eyes and hearts from even considering the possibility of staying in Eretz Yisrael. Hashem wanted the decree of slavery to unfold, and therefore He guided them back to Mitzrayim in a way that felt natural and unquestioned. It didn't have to make sense to them, because it was Hashem leading them where they needed to be. This, explains the Ma'agalei Tzedek, is what Rashi means when he says that their eyes and hearts became closed. Not that they were already enslaved, but that Hashem closed off certain lines of thought so that the process He willed could move forward. This is a lesson that repeats itself constantly in our lives. Many times, years later, a person looks back and asks himself: Why did I choose that path? From where I stand now, I never would have made that decision. The answer is often that Hashem wanted him led in that direction. Hashem guides us not only through clear signs, but through closed doors, missed opportunities, delays, and distractions. What looks like nature is pure hashgacha. Rabbi Elimelech Biderman shared a remarkable story that illustrates this idea in a very tangible way. In Brooklyn, there is a man named Rabbi Yosef who learns regularly with another Jew who, until about a year ago, was very far from Judaism. They learn together by phone several times a week, and slowly, with siyata d'Shmaya, this man has been growing in his observance. A few weeks ago, on Erev Chanukah, Rabbi Yosef discovered that his learning partner had put on tefillin only once in his entire life. Rabbi Yosef spoke to him about the importance of the mitzvah and encouraged him to start wearing tefillin daily. The man replied that he didn't own his own tefillin. He only had an inherited pair—small tefillin of Rashi and Rabbeinu Tam, as was his family custom to wear both together. But the straps had faded from black to white. Rabbi Yosef immediately understood that the tefillin were almost certainly pasul. At the same time, he knew that this man was not yet ready to hear that he needed to spend a large sum of money on new tefillin. So Rabbi Yosef decided, quietly, that he would try to raise the money himself and buy him proper tefillin according to his custom. The very next day, Rabbi Yosef woke up early, as usual, and learned with a different chavruta by phone at six in the morning. After that, however, a series of unusual delays began. One thing after another went wrong, and he missed his regular minyan. He went to a different shul on the same block, but again encountered obstacles and could not pray with that minyan either. Finally, he walked to another shul a block away, where the minyan was much later than the time he normally prays. As soon as he entered the shul, his eyes were drawn to a small tefillin bag. Attached to it was a sign that read: "Anyone who needs this may take it." He opened the bag and could hardly believe what he saw. Inside were two small pairs of tefillin—Rashi and Rabbeinu Tam. He sent them to a sofer to be checked, and they were found to be completely kosher. At that moment, everything became clear. All the delays, all the missed minyanim, all the frustrations of that morning were not accidents. They were Hashem closing one door after another in order to lead Rabbi Yosef precisely to the place where those tefillin were waiting. Finding tefillin left for the taking is rare enough. Finding two small, kosher pairs of Rashi and Rabbeinu Tam was nothing short of astonishing. It was as if Hashem had prepared them in advance, custom-made for this man, and simply needed Rabbi Yosef to arrive at the right place at the right time. This is the message of the parashah. Hashem is constantly leading us—sometimes by opening our eyes, and sometimes by closing them. Our job is not always to understand in the moment, but to trust that every delay, every detour, and every missed plan is part of a precise Divine guidance. Shabbat Shalom.

One of the ways we bring down all the segulot that come from Birkat HaMazon is by saying it with true feelings of hakarat tov. When a person feels genuine appreciation, the power of his words becomes infinitely greater. When Rabbi Aharon of Belz was younger, he used to stay by a certain butcher. The butcher took such good care of the Rabbi, fulfilling his every request with great joy. Years later, the butcher's daughter suddenly became gravely ill, and the doctors were losing hope. Messages were sent to Gedolim to pray for her, and the butcher specifically asked that a message be sent to Rabbi Aharon of Belz. The messenger arrived by Rabbi Aharon on Erev Yom Tov, when there was already a long line of people waiting to see him. Because the matter was urgent, the messenger was allowed to enter immediately. When the Rabbi heard the news, he was just about to place a cube of sugar into his tea. He stopped, paused what he was doing, and began repeating over and over how much that butcher had taken care of him. He spoke at length about the kindness, the warmth, and the generosity he had experienced. Only when he felt a deep, intense sense of hakarat tov did he give the girl a beracha and pray for her refuah shelema. After Yom Tov, the messenger returned with extraordinary news. The girl had made a complete recovery. He added that they later discovered that at the exact moment the Rabbi had given his beracha, the girl appeared to be in her final moments. But then she related that she had seen, in what seemed like a dream, the Rabbi giving her a piece of sugar to eat while blessing her with the most heartfelt beracha. At that moment, everything changed. Baruch Hashem, she recovered fully. Words said with real hakarat tov are unbelievably powerful. In the first beracha of Birkat HaMazon, we acknowledge that Hashem is the One who gives us our parnasah. We need to understand what that truly means. The Gemara speaks about a Hallel called Hallel HaGadol, the Great Hallel. This is the chapter of Tehillim in which we say "Ki l'olam chasdo" twenty-six times. The Gemara asks why it is called Hallel HaGadol. Rabbi Yochanan answers that it is because it includes the words that Hashem gives food to all of His creations. Hashem, who is exalted beyond all comprehension, who resides in the highest heights, personally comes down and takes care of every single one of His creations, ensuring that they always have what to eat. Hashem does not delegate this responsibility to a messenger. He does it Himself, because He loves us so much. The question is asked: this Hallel mentions so many miracles—creating heaven and earth, the sun and the moon, taking us out of Mitzrayim, splitting the sea, leading us through the desert, defeating Sichon and Og. How can it be that of all these miracles, Hashem giving us food is considered the greatest? The sefer Birkat HaMazon BeKavanah explains that all the other miracles were one-time events. But the miracle of feeding every person and every animal is something Hashem performs every second of every day, from the beginning of time until today and beyond. Hashem is "concerned" that all of His billions and trillions of creations have what they need to live. It is a constant miracle that never stops. They say in the name of the Chafetz Chaim that if a person forgot Al HaNissim in the Amidah, the tefillah still counts. But if he did not say in Modim ועל ניסך שבכל יום…שבכל עת , the Amidah does not count. Missing a miracle that happened once can be excused, but failing to recognize the miracles that occur every single day cannot. Hashem is personally taking care of us at every moment. That is why we emphasize in Birkat HaMazon that Hashem has never made us lacking and will never make us lacking. Once we truly recognize this, only then are we ready to say נודה לך -thank You. Only then can our words of gratitude come from the heart. And the more sincerely we feel that thank You, the more powerful it becomes—and the more blessing it draws down into our lives.

If a person is going through difficulties, the natural reaction is to ask, "Why me? What did I do to deserve this?" He then feels bad about the situation and remains in that state until it goes away. However, if he reacts that way, he is losing out on a golden opportunity. The purpose of this world is to utilize every circumstance that Hashem places a person into to its fullest, and thereby gain eternal life. The Chafetz Chaim writes that the main goodness a person will receive in the future depends on how he reacts to the ways Hashem dealt with him here. If he internalizes that Hashem is always doing the absolute best for him, even though it does not appear that way, he will rise to the greatest levels, and his table in the future will be overflowing with good. The Orchot Tzaddikim writes that if a person performs a mitzvah with joy, his reward is a thousand times greater than if he were to do it as a chore. That joy will give him the merit to have success in his endeavors and to rise in levels of spirituality, to the point that Hashem will reveal secrets to him from above. The joy a person experiences while doing a mitzvah is itself a mitzvah. If a person is experiencing difficulty, he has a mitzvah to accept that Hashem is doing this for his benefit, as stated in the Shulchan Aruch. If he fulfills that mitzvah with joy, it will earn him a thousand times more reward and elevate him tremendously. The Baal Shem Tov writes that when a person is in a state of joy and happiness, he can bring about great salvations. Being depressed and complaining accomplishes nothing, whereas being accepting and joyful can give a person everything. Rabbeinu Yonah writes in Mishlei (perek gimel, pasuk yud alef) that if a person gives much charity and is exceedingly careful in the performance of all the mitzvot, yet is unsuccessful in business and has great difficulty earning parnassah, or experiences other forms of suffering despite being so good, he must strengthen himself in bitachon and accept the way Hashem is dealing with him with love. He must understand that what is happening to him is truly for the best. He says, what the person is experiencing in his life is better than all the wealth, tranquility, and success this world has to offer, because all of that passes in a fleeting moment. This world is so temporary in comparison to the next world, and one moment of pleasure there is better than all the pleasure that can ever be experienced in this world combined. A person does not know what is truly good for him; only Hashem does. Sometimes tranquility is good, and sometimes difficulty is good. Therefore, a person should never be upset with Hashem. Rabbeinu Yonah adds that this attitude is a wondrous level to reach in bitachon, and the reward for it is incomprehensible. I once read a story of a man who was diagnosed with a serious illness. He went through years of treatments, hospital visits, pain, and uncertainty. His livelihood was affected and all of his plans were dissolved, yet no one could believe the attitude he maintained throughout the experience. When people visited him, they expected frustration and anger, but instead they were met with a smile and words of emunah. One day a friend could not hold back any longer and asked him directly, "How do you keep saying Baruch Hashem? You are in so much pain, you have lost so much—don't you feel broken?" He answered, "Yes, it hurts. But pain does not mean Hashem does not love me. It means He trusts me." The doctors and nurses were in awe of his demeanor, and he made a tremendous Kiddush Hashem. Baruch Hashem, he recovered and continues to live his life with joy and emunah. The levels he reached through his acceptance during those few years are levels people often do not reach in decades when everything is going smoothly. We do not ask for difficulties, but if they ever come, we do not want to waste the opportunity. The greatest thing we can do is accept them with love and emunah.

On Asarah B'Tevet Nebuchadnezzar laid siege to Yerushalayim, the beginning of the process that eventually led to the destruction of the First Beit HaMikdash. On this fast day, part of our avodah is introspection—looking inward and correcting the very issues that caused that destruction in the first place. The Gemara in Masechet Yoma teaches that the First Beit HaMikdash was destroyed because the people were steeped in the three cardinal aveirot. Yet the Gemara in Masechet Nedarim tells us something deeper. The Nevi'im and the Chachamim could not understand the root cause of the churban until Hashem Himself revealed it: the people had "left His Torah." And the Gemara explains that this means they did not say the berachot on the Torah before learning it. The mefarshim explain that this was not a technical oversight. If they had viewed Torah learning the way it is meant to be viewed, as something that truly warrants a berachah, then the Torah itself would have elevated them. It would have refined them spiritually and protected them from sinking to the point of committing those terrible aveirot. The Bach, in siman מז in Orach Chaim, explains the matter with great depth. Hashem's intention in commanding us to delve into Torah study is that our neshamot should become one with Him in this world. The Torah contains within it the kedushah of the One who created it. When we learn Torah with the proper intention, we become a place where Hashem can rest His Shechinah. Hashem desires to be down here with us, as close as possible. It is up to us to make ourselves into a vessel that can receive His Presence. That vessel is formed specifically through deep, sincere engagement with the holy words of Torah. But in the generation of the First Beit HaMikdash, Torah was being learned for other reasons. Some learned because it was enjoyable. Some learned only to know the halachot they needed. Some learned to demonstrate their intellectual ability. But they were not learning in order to absorb the kedushah of Hashem, to become a מקום להשראת השכינה , a place where the Shechinah could rest. Without that inner מקום , the connection to HaKadosh Baruch Hu weakened. And if there is no inner dwelling place for Hashem within the people, there is no reason for a physical dwelling place to remain standing either. The Bach concludes that when a person prepares to learn Torah and recites Birkat HaTorah, he should have in mind deep gratitude: that Hashem chose us to share His holy Torah with , and that through it He enables us to attach ourselves to Him. How fortunate we are that Hashem wants to be close to us. Because we are physical beings, it is difficult to attach ourselves to the spiritual. So Hashem gave us the Torah, which is spiritual, and through it we ourselves become elevated and spiritual, capable of clinging to Him. The deeper we immerse ourselves in Torah, the more kedushah it brings into us. But only if it is learned with the right intentions. When a person is truly connected to Hashem, he gains tremendous strength. He can overcome the tests that the yetzer hara places before him. The spiritual light of Torah provides the energy, motivation, and excitement to live a life of Torah and mitzvot. On Asarah B'Tevet, we are fasting not only for a siege that took place long ago, but for the loss of that inner connection. We are reminded that the Beit HaMikdash was destroyed not because Torah was absent, but because Torah was no longer serving its true purpose. Let us appreciate the gift of Torah and learn it as much as we can, with the intention of drawing closer to Hashem through it, and making ourselves worthy vessels for His Presence once again.

If a man is betrayed by someone he trusted, the pain can be overwhelming. Imagine he is told about a great business opportunity, and with complete trust he invests most of his life savings. Later, he discovers that it was all a lie. He was cheated. The money is gone, with no way to recover it. Beyond the financial loss, the deeper pain sets in. How could such injustice take place? It seems as if the thieves live happily ever after, while the innocent, unassuming person is left to suffer for nothing. But we know this is never the full story. Hashem is always in charge. No one can take a single dollar from a person unless it was meant for him to lose it, and no one can keep a dollar unless it was meant for him to have it. Hashem is the perfect Judge. No one ever gets away with anything in this world. It may look like evil prospers, but that appearance itself is part of the test. Every single action a person does is accounted for. Nothing slips through the cracks. When Titus HaRasha stabbed the parochet at the time of the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash and blood appeared to flow from it, he believed he had overpowered Hashem. It looked like evil had triumphed. But in the end, Hashem sent the smallest creature—a gnat—to eat away at Titus's brain until he died. Justice was exact, measured, and unavoidable. The Mitzrim seemed to have their way with the Jewish people in Mitzrayim for generations. It appeared as if cruelty and oppression ruled unchecked. Yet when the time for retribution came, every Mitzri received exactly what he deserved. Even those who drowned in the Yam Suf did not all die the same way. Some sank like lead, some like stone, and some like straw. Each death was calibrated precisely according to what that person deserved. Hashem's justice is exact down to the smallest detail. Every single thing that happens to a person, every minute of the day, is calculated with perfect precision based on his deeds. It is almost never obvious that something is happening because of what a person did. We label events as "natural," but those who understand know there is nothing natural about life. Everything is Hashem. The Yerushalmi relates that one Leil Shabbat, Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa was eating his Shabbat seudah when suddenly his table collapsed. He did not ask if a screw was loose or if the wood had weakened. Instead, he asked his Rebbetzin what might have caused this spiritually. She then remembered that she had borrowed spices from a neighbor and forgot to take off ma'aser. Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa immediately did what was necessary according to halacha to rectify it, and the table fixed itself on the spot. He knew that even if there was a physical reason, that was never the true cause. The cause was always Hashem. When Yosef's brothers were treated harshly by the viceroy of Mitzrayim, they did not say, "Look at this antisemitism." They said, "We are guilty because of what we did to Yosef." They understood that a viceroy has no power of his own. It was Hashem giving them kaparah. And notice how exact that kaparah was. Shimon, who wanted Yosef killed, was the only brother taken to prison. Levi, who was next in suggesting harm, was the one who found his money in his sack and had to endure additional agony. Yehudah, who suggested selling Yosef, suffered the torment of thinking Binyamin would not return and that he would be held responsible. Every detail was measured. Hashem is exacting. It may take days, months, or even years, but everyone always gets exactly what he deserves. Sometimes events happen to correct something from a previous lifetime. We don't know the calculations, but we know they are perfect. Hashem arranges everything so we can fulfill our mission in this world and live eternally with true bliss. The Shomer Emunim teaches that when something happens that appears to be a kaparah, a person should tell Hashem that he accepts it fully and knows he deserves it. That avodah elevates a person tremendously and can spare him from additional yesurim. We never need to worry about what others do or whether they are getting away with anything. That is Hashem's department—and He is the most righteous and perfect Judge.

A baal emunah is able to stay calm and composed no matter what type of adversity he is facing. The reason is because he knows for a fact that Hashem was the cause of it, and it is for his best. This attitude is much harder to have when it appears that he is in the difficult position due to other people. There, the yetzer hara tries to convince him that if it wasn't for that other person, he would not be in the position that he is in now. Yosef HaTzaddik, who was a master ma'amin, exemplified the great mida of this type of emunah, when he finally revealed himself to his brothers in this week's parasha, Vayigash . His brothers had planned to kill him, then sold him as a slave, taking him away from his father for years. He had been through so much hardship. And then he told his brothers not to feel bad about any of it because it was Hashem who used them as His messenger to bring him to the place He wanted him to be in. Yosef then hugged and kissed every one of his brothers. This is a tremendous level to reach. There are people who are able to accept the difficulties caused to them by others, but only after they see the benefits that came about as a result of them. The greatest rewards are reserved for those who are able to be calm and accepting even during the darkness when there are no benefits apparent. Rabbi Zilberstein told a story that he witnessed first-hand when he took his father to a clinic for a small procedure. There was a lot of commotion going on in one particular area and everyone realized it. When Rabbi Zilberstein inquired about it, he was told what happened. A man was there to get a couple of his teeth pulled. During the procedure, the doctor accidentally knocked one of his teeth and it went to the back of the man's throat. It was a sharp tooth which could have caused considerable damage to his lungs. The man's children, who accompanied him there, were horrified at what was happening. Specialists were called in and, eventually, they got the tooth out. Afterward, they did an x-ray on that area to make sure there was no damage and they found in the x-ray a very small, cancerous growth which was in its infant stages. They immediately took it out. The doctor said that type of growth is extremely dangerous and doesn't take too long to start doing damage. The fact that they caught it then saved this man's life. After we see the good in that doctor's "mistake" it's very easy to have emunah that it was Hashem who caused that tooth to be knocked out. But who would be able to stay calm and have full emunah that Hashem was the one behind it during the dark time, before they found the growth, when it looked like the patient was going to be negatively affected to no fault of his own? It's not good enough to believe it was Hashem only after the fact. We have to work on ourselves to believe it's Hashem the entire time. In the future, Hashem is going to show us why every single event that happened to every single individual was only because of Him for the best reasons possible. But then it will be too late to have emunah. Then it will be called ידיעה – not faith but knowledge. Now is our time to shine. We are never in any particular circumstance because of what somebody else did. We are only there because of Hashem. The more we are able to internalize this, the more peace of mind we'll have and the greater heights we'll reach. Shabbat Shalom.

There was a man who prided himself on being extremely careful with a particular stringency in halachah. One morning, he realized that in order to keep that stringency exactly the way he wanted, he would have to compromise in another area of halachah. At first, he hesitated. Something didn't sit right. But then he reassured himself that what he was doing was correct and well-intentioned. Later that day, he related what he had done to a rabbi. The rabbi listened carefully and then asked him a simple question: "Who were you trying to please by doing that stringency?" The man was taken aback. He paused and then answered, "Hashem, of course." The rabbi then asked him, "Do you really believe that the same Hashem who commanded you not to compromise that halachah is happier with you because you were extra careful somewhere else? Do you think Hashem says, 'I'm glad you ignored Me here because you were stricter there'?" The man immediately understood. He thanked the rabbi for setting him straight. The rabbi then continued, "Hashem does not want us to choose which parts of the Torah to protect and which parts to bend. If a stringency requires a person to trample another halachah, it is no longer a stringency. It may make the person feel more religious, but he is no longer serving Hashem. He is serving his own sense of what feels right." Sometimes a person becomes so focused on what he is accustomed to doing that he forgets who he is doing it for. This mistake often comes from good intentions. A person wants to grow. He wants to feel more connected. But somewhere along the way, the focus subtly shifts from What does Hashem want? to What do I feel is more meaningful? And once that happens, a person may feel very spiritual while actually drifting away from the true ratzon Hashem. A person may feel that it is so important to give large amounts of tzedakah that he justifies not paying back people he owes money to so that he can fulfill his tzedakah goals. Another person may feel that it is so important to keep a certain chumrah that he compromises on patience, derech eretz, or sensitivity along the way. Others may feel that mitzvot between man and Hashem are more important than mitzvot between man and man—forgetting that all 613 mitzvot were given by the same Hashem, who wants them all fulfilled properly. When a person compromises one halachah to enhance another, he may unknowingly be serving his ego rather than Hashem. The stringency may make him feel elevated, disciplined, or distinct, while the compromised halachah feels less visible or less emotionally rewarding. But Hashem is not impressed by how we feel about a mitzvah. Hashem is pleased when we submit ourselves to His will—even when it doesn't feel dramatic or special. Growth in Torah and mitzvot does not come from choosing which mitzvah shines brighter in our eyes, but from humbly accepting that every single halachah matters, because each one is an expression of Hashem's will. When we remember who we are serving, everything changes. The question we must constantly ask ourselves is: What does Hashem want from me? And very often, that question is not simple to answer. That is why it is so important to have a rabbi to ask. If we truly want to serve Hashem, we will never hesitate to ask questions—even if we are afraid the answer may not align with what we were hoping to do. We always want to do what the Boss wants us to do. When that mindset guides us, and we sincerely seek da'at Torah, we can be confident that we are truly serving Hashem—and that is real success.

When a person is in need of a yeshuah, whether big or small, he must remember one simple truth: Hashem can bring it in an instant, and He has unlimited ways of doing so. Our job is not to pressure the messengers, argue with the intermediaries, or become consumed with how it will happen. Our job is to speak to the Sender. Very often, it is our spiritual hishtadlut that opens doors that once seemed firmly locked. A man related that he was part of a kollel with several learning tracks. Each track had a different style and focus. Once someone committed to a particular track, it was extremely difficult to switch before a certain amount of time passed. This individual chose a track that he soon realized was not right for him. When he discovered another track that felt perfectly suited to his abilities and learning style, he strongly wanted to transfer. He approached the person in charge, but was denied and reminded of the rules. So he continued learning every day, accepting that Hashem had placed him in this situation. He understood that the test was to continue learning Torah even when it was difficult, even when it wasn't in the style that fulfilled his heart's desire. One day, he shared his struggle with a friend. The friend asked him a simple question: "Did you pray to switch?" He realized that he hadn't. Immediately, he began to pray. In addition to mentioning it in his regular tefillot, he began saying Tehillim every day, specifically asking Hashem to help him switch tracks to the one he wanted. Some time later, several people were allowed to switch into that very track. Encouraged, he went back to the person in charge and asked again. Once more, he was denied. This time, instead of becoming frustrated or pleading with the administrator, he made a quiet decision: I'm not going to argue with messengers. I'm going to keep speaking to the One truly in charge. Not long after, one morning on his way to kollel, a man pulled up beside him and offered him a ride. During the conversation, the topic of kollel came up, and he mentioned his desire to switch tracks. When he said the name of the person in charge, the driver replied that he knew him very well and would try to help. Within a few days, the switch was approved. This man didn't waste his energy fighting the messengers. He spoke directly to the Boss, and Hashem sent him exactly the messenger he needed. Another man, an electrician, related that he sat at home for two full days with no work at all. He and his wife sat together, trying to strengthen their emunah, when he received an email from someone asking for help with hachnasat kallah. They spoke it over and decided that tzedakah would be their hishtadlut. They donated $250, in addition to the $118 they had given someone else just an hour earlier. They said that the $368 they had just given would count as the ma'aser for the parnassah that Hashem would send them. The very next day, he received several job calls and earned a total of $3,675—almost exactly the amount that would require the ma'aser they had already given the day before. Hashem can bring the right messengers in a moment. A rabbi told me that a student flew him in from Eretz Yisrael to serve as the mesader kiddushin at his wedding. When the rabbi arrived at the airport, he briefly left his belongings to use the restroom. When he returned, he noticed his hat was gone. He searched everywhere, but it had vanished. The wedding was only hours away, and the city he was in had no stores that sold hats. On the way to the wedding hall, he called a relative who lived in that city and asked what he should do. The relative told him to come to his house immediately. When he arrived, the relative handed him a brand-new hat, still in its box. It was almost identical to the one he had lost and fit him perfectly. The relative explained that seven months earlier, his son had bought a hat in New York and gone straight to the airport afterward. When he got home, he realized the wrong hat had been placed in the box. It didn't fit him, and they had no idea what to do with it. The hat sat unused in their home for months. Now, at the exact moment this rabbi needed a hat, it was waiting for him. Hashem uses His messengers at all times, in all places, often long before we even realize we'll need them. Our main hishtadlut is always with Him.