Certain nisyonos feel enormously challenging. It is normal to feel “This is too big for me, I just can’t go on.” Difficult challenges take us to the very limits of our endurance, and sometimes beyond.
Rivka Imenu’s pregnancy, for example, was unusually painful. She says: “Im kein, lamah zeh anochi — If this is so, why me?” Rashi says this means: “If this pregnancy is so difficult, why did I daven and want it so much?” Ibn Ezra says she asked other women who had given birth if they had experienced this intensity of pain, and they said no. She then wondered: “Lamah zeh anochi? This is not normal, why is it happening to me?” The Chizkuni brings down that she was saying: “If this is the extent of the pain of pregnancy and childbirth, it may be easier to die.” Ramban adds that it can also mean: “Lama zeh anochi – Lama zeh anochi ba’olam. Halevai eineni – Why am I in the world? I wish I did not exist.”
This is not normal, why is it happening to me?”
Rivka Imenu is very real about how hard her challenge is, but she does not stop there. Instead, her primary response to this experience is: “Vatelech lidrosh es Hashem.” She goes to seek Hashem. The Maharal says her quest was not “Why am I alive?” Rather, Rivka’s question was centered on the feeling of ‘Hashem gave me life, so there must be a purpose to my existence.’ “Why is this me?” meaning, “Why am I being given this experience? I must seek Hashem! I must seek the root cause of this and its connection to Anochi – to my essence.”
When we experience pain, we have a choice. We can say, “Why is this happening to me?!” in protest, or we can say, “Why is this happening to me?” as a deep inquiry. Pain and discomfort are catalysts for self-searching and spiritual development. We learn the empowered response to challenges from Rivka. She searches for a spiritual cause and an explanation of what this means to her and what she must do now.
The question to ask during a nisayon is: How can this propel me to greatness?
The question to ask during a nisayon is: How can this propel me to greatness? The Gemara (Brachos 5a) says that if something happens to a person, he must examine his ways and change. When a person understands that something has happened for a reason, pain and negative emotions diminish significantly.
When we are going through a tough time, we often naturally think, “It’s not fair! Why me?” Instead, we can try to ask ourselves, “What can I learn and how can I grow from this?”
Rabbi Moshe Shapira zt”l said the pasuk “Tzion sadeh techaresh — the field which had once been the site of the Temple was plowed” is describing the depth of the destruction. But, as Rabbi Akiva could discern, this was also the beginning of the redemption. The field is plowed, preparing the ground so new foundations can now be laid. This
is destruction, but on the other hand, when the ruins are cleared, you can build. Rabbi Simcha Wasserman used to point out that plowing is the preparation for planting.
Huge, challenging experiences can be unnerving because it is completely new territory for your self- development. The old rules do not apply here; you need new ones. You can hold onto the “old you,” or you can acknowledge that this is beyond anything you have experienced, but now that you are here, Hashem must want you here, and there must be a message in the challenge— something to be gained when you make peace instead of fighting it.
Hashem is challenging you because He knows what you are capable of. You may not sense that until you arrive. It is like standing on a ladder; on your present rung, you are stable. You know that standing on the rung above you will be safe too. But taking your foot off this rung of the ladder to get to that next rung is scary. However, if you allow yourself to try, you will find Hashem is there and holding you tight, bringing you higher than you could have planned or envisioned. Hashem wants you to get to a place way beyond your present level. He knows what you can achieve, and He is inviting you to strive for it. Transition and transform!
Pain is an invitation to grow. Hashem is challenging you to find Him, to trust Him, and to embark on a deep and intense journey. Your journey to yourself. This is where Hashem is to be found: “Ani” – “I” is one of Hashem’s names. Your access point to Hashem is through your essential self. Hashem is right here, right now, in this experience with you. This may not be intuitively true – pain is very isolating – but if you naturally felt connected to Hashem, you would get no credit for finding Him.
I remember Rabbi Falk zt”l in Gateshead Seminary teaching us about checking lettuce for bugs. He said there are two ways you can check leafy green vegetables. One approach is to say, “Let’s see if there are any bugs here.” That is not the correct approach. Leafy greens are usually highly infested. He taught us the correct attitude is to check the greens with the motto, “There are bugs here, and I’m going to find them!” In situations of challenge, we should adopt the attitude that “There is light here, and I’m going to find it!”
Hashem is the parent holding the child through a painful but lifesaving procedure. Yisurim memarkim – suffering cleanses, however we do not invite challenges. Chazal, our Sages, despite knowing the great levels of spiritual cleansing that can be achieved through pain, said to Hashem, “Lo hem v’lo s’charam – keep the pain and keep the reward!” But if Hashem has placed you in this, you can and must find the light in it. The pasuk in Tehillim says, “Ve’emunascha baleilos – and Your faith by night.” Our faith is challenged when things are dark, during the night of our life, but it is precisely then that faith can be strengthened, and that will carry us through.
In Egypt, on the final midnight on the eve of redemption the Jews are instructed to offer the Korbon Pesach and celebrate with a Seder. But they were still in Egypt – celebrating the Exodus while still in the confines of the place of their exile. Why not leave and then celebrate? Surely the redemption is only complete when Egypt is well and truly behind them? There is a profound lesson here from Rabbi Nissan Alpert. The Jews were physically in Egypt, but emotionally and spiritually they were already miles away. They were celebrating the future as if it was already present. Their faith in the reality of the redemption was so real that the redemption was tangible; it was “now.” They celebrated Pesach “al shem he-atid.” We celebrate Pesach “al shem he-avar” – to commemorate the past, but they were celebrating what had not happened yet. This is the message we need to hear; to be strong and persevere through our challenge with Hashem at our side. To connect to God here and now, and be able to say, “There is light here, and I’m going to find it.”
This article was found in Nekuda Tova Nashim Tzidkaniyos 2.