I have a friend who is a “real-deal” avreich. He loves learning, and he takes it seriously. Whatever time he can carve out to learn, he does (with his wife’s support, of course).
But life has a way of multiplying on you. B”H, the family is growing. The kids are young and loud and genuinely demanding. Rent. Extended family. His wife’s work. Coordination, compromise, logistics. The weight was adding up, and my friend went to his Rav to try to get a handle on things.
The Rav listened and then said: “Gam zeh ya’avor,” literally, “this too shall pass.”
Initially, my friend took it as comfort, the way anyone would. That phrase is usually used similarly to “hang in there” or “keep your head up, it’ll get easier.”
But that’s not what the Rav meant. He explained himself, now with a sharper tone.
“T’fas’fes et zeh.” “You’re going to miss out. You’re going to look back at this period one day and want it back. The stress, the chaos, the feeling of being pulled in every direction, that’s an opportunity. When you have to fight to balance growing in Yiddishkeit and being there for a family that is small and completely dependent on you, that’s where you become someone. If you let it pass without squeezing something out of it, you’ve passed up something that doesn’t come around again.
My friend described his reaction to me in Yiddish: “Ikh hob gehat trern,” “I had tears in my eyes.
I don’t know how many of us can grab onto what the Rav is saying with both hands. Maybe we can grab on with one, though. When we find ourselves in those overwhelming moments (or hours, or days), we can remind ourselves: The resistance isn’t preventing our growth, it’s enabling it. A young parent who is stretched thin and still carves out a few minutes to learn, or who manages to show up for his kids even when he’s running on empty, is earning something that the easier years simply can’t offer.
This article was found in Nekuda Tova Issue 83.
