You know those moments as a parent when you think you might lose it? The house is a disaster, the kids won’t stop fighting, homework isn’t done, it’s past bedtime, and you’re completely exhausted?
If you can picture that scene, think honestly about how it triggers you. What kinds of thoughts and reactions usually come up in those moments? Do you feel like you’re about to go crazy and give in to the voice in your head that screams: “I CAN’T. I’m done. I’m going to explode”? Or do you somehow float into a calm, gold-medal parenting response?
I’ll be honest — many times I’ve succumbed to the first choice. My response of yelling, getting angry, and losing my cool feels justified in the moment, but later, upon reflection, I always regret it deeply.
A few months ago, I found myself in one of those exact situations. It was the end of a long day. The chores weren’t done, the house was upside down, and the kids were arguing and ignoring me. I tried to gain control, but I couldn’t. I was outnumbered, overwhelmed, and every fiber of my body screamed: “They’re driving me crazy. I can’t handle this. I’m about to explode.”
But this time, I didn’t.
Because in that moment, I remembered what I myself teach to others. I paused amidst the hurricane. I zoomed out of the scene, took a few deep breaths, and stepped into my room to talk to Hashem. I poured out my heart: “Hashem, I feel myself losing patience, and I don’t want to. I feel like I can’t get through this without yelling, but that’s not who I want to be. Please help me. Give me strength. Give me faith. Help me stay calm and connected to You.”
Pull quote: Hashem, I feel myself losing patience, and I don’t want to. Please help me. Give me strength. Give me faith. Help me stay calm and connected to You.
Speaking to Hashem like this immediately shifted things. My heart began to settle. The storm inside me quieted, and I started to feel His presence steadying me and grounding me in emunah. Specifically — emunah b’atzmi, faith in myself.
Our sages teach that there are four components of emunah: faith in Hashem, faith in the Torah, faith in the tzadikim, and faith in ourselves. Most people are fairly comfortable with the first three, but the fourth often gets overlooked. Yet faith in Hashem and faith in ourselves are inseparable. If we don’t trust the soul He placed within us, our faith in Him is incomplete.
Emunah b’atzmi — faith in myself — isn’t about my parenting skills or personal strength. It’s about faith in the soul Hashem placed inside me. A cheilek Elokai mima’al, a piece of Him, infinite and limitless. To think, “I can’t handle this” — or even “I can handle this” — as if it’s all on me, is forgetting that it’s not about me at all. That’s where arrogance sneaks in.
Ironic, isn’t it? Me not believing in myself is not humility — it’s actually haughtiness, because such an attitude is built on the mistaken notion that this is solely in my hands. When I remember that it’s all in Hashem’s hands and I am a vessel to reveal Him to the world — then I unleash the enormous and unlimited power of the neshamah that He breathed into me. Believing in my capabilities because of what I am made up of is emunah b’atzmi, and is a crucial part of our emunah.
Since I believe that Hashem is great, and I believe that Hashem infused a part of Himself into me — cheilek elokai mema’al mamish — then how can I not believe in my own greatness?
Every morning we begin the day with “Modeh Ani,” thanking Hashem for returning our soul to us. We say “rabbah emunasecha” — great is Your faith. Not our faith in Him, but His faith in us. Before we even start the day, Hashem affirms: “I believe in you. I see your soul and your potential. I trust you to face the challenges ahead.”
True faith is remembering that Hashem is with us, that He trusts us, and that the soul He placed inside us carries His greatness.
Faith means believing before we see. And faith in ourselves works the same way. Believing in the soul He placed within us is believing in Him. When we tap into that, we draw from deeper reserves of patience, strength, and clarity. We rise above our instincts, overcome challenges, and act from our highest selves — in service of Hashem.
If Hashem believes in us, who are we not to believe in ourselves?
Of course, doubts creep in: “I’ve failed before. I’ve never done this. I don’t know if I can.” But that’s the essence of emunah — trusting before the proof appears. Hashem doesn’t ask us to wait until we’ve proven ourselves. He asks us to believe we can, and then we will see.
That night, I didn’t see how I could “pass the test” of parenting patience. But I trusted that I could, because Hashem believes in me and my strength comes from Him. So I said: “Let’s do this, Hashem. You gave me these children. You must believe I can do it. I know I can’t do this alone — but with You, I can.”
And with that, I stepped back into the storm — calmer, clearer, and grounded in faith. Patience and connection replaced frustration and anger. I spoke to my kids in a way that I knew would make Hashem proud.
And you can too. Whatever your “tests” may be — with Hashem’s faith in you, and your faith in the soul He placed inside you, you can rise above. You can meet the challenges of your day with presence, patience, and clarity. You can become the version of yourself that serves Hashem, your family, and your soul at the highest level.
This article was found in Nekuda Tova Issue 54 Sukkos 2025.
