Top Ten Things I'm Grateful For

I think it was R' Avigdor Miller who said that one should write a list every once in a while to say thank you to Hashem for all the good He does for us. This can also be applicable to everyone- as everyone has something to be grateful for. In one of R' Shimshon Pincus's books, he says that every mitzvah leads a person to realize something he/she is grateful for. If you see a Mezuzah, and you head to kiss it- be grateful you have a house. If you get something Shatnez-checked- be grateful you have clothing, and so on. Each leads to a way to thank Hashem for all we have.
Without further ado: Top Ten Today (not necessarily in perfect order)

1. Breathing- air- respiration- oxygen
2. My body, with all of it's intricacies, from the organ to the cellular level
3. My Neshama- soul
4. My Parents and Family
5. My Husband
6. My daughter
7. Having a Parnasa in these rough times
8. The world we live in- the sky, the earth, the grass, the trees, the beauty
9. Yerushalayim- the zechus to live here, and this special city
10. The ability to think.

Riding the Train (or Bus)- It's all Good

Sometimes, I have a really bad day. That seems to happen once in a while, where everything that can go right goes wrong, and some other things besides.
It was on one of those days that I boarded my second bus, heading to my third, and last bus of the day, and all I wanted was to get home to my daughter. The driver pulled up to the stop I was supposed to get off on, and the third bus that I was supposed to take pulled up right behind. Great, I thought. I'll just get off, and get on. Easy.

Yet for some reason, the bus driver hesitated while opening the second door of the bus, and as I disembarked, my third bus drove away, in a trail of dust.

My first, gut reaction was, how not fair could one day be. My second reaction was, that maybe, if I had reacted sooner, I could have gotten the driver to open the door faster, and I would be on my bus, instead of at the bus stop.

But my third thought brought it into perspective. I said to myself (and I don't do these type of conversations often), who are you kidding. Hashem didn't want you on that bus, that's why you aren't on it. He's running the routes, he's guiding the trains, the buses, the planes- and if you're not on that bus, it's because you shouldn't be. If I would have gotten the driver's attention, I probably would have still missed the bus- because it wasn't in that Divine plan. So it was meant to be, and so it is.

And as my mind came to a peace of mind, knowing that G-d had wanted it this way- my eyes lifted, and I saw another, of the same number, bus pull up directly in front of me- mostly empty. And as I boarded, I realized my lesson of the day- it's G- d calling the shots, and all is Gam Zu L'Tova.

Chag Sameach all!

Pushing the Train

Note: These are my feelings on this. My emotions are expressed within. If this hits a raw note with anyone- I apologize. I do not mean to offend. I just felt like I needed to write this out, to look back at it one day, and to remember and grow.

I read this amazing article on Aish.com, and it resonated a cord with me. First of all, the author is young. As she writes, she is 19 years old, or at least, she was 19 when her father was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer. And the second thing is that her faith in G-d is so powerful and strong that it continues to flourish, even at a time in her life when many might lose their faith.
She says that her father commonly paraphrases something from the Chafetz Chaim:

Let me ask you, if you’re on the train and you want it to go faster, are you going to go outside and push it?”
“No…”
“Of course not. That would be pointless. So stop trying to push the train.”

In life, there are problems. There are curveballs. There are times when I've stood outside in the cold Jerusalem night and railed against G-d. How could He do this to me? What did I do wrong? How could life be this way? And, I've made bargains. Just like she did. I've stood in a home and screamed and sobbed to G-d. Told Him the pain I was in. Told Him how I didn't deserve it. Told Him how if only it would be better, I would be a better person.

And it's only my faith in G-d that kept me going. There was nothing else I could do, no one else I could turn to. G-d was the only Being in the Universe who was in control, not me. And I prayed. I prayed like I had never prayed before. I recited countless chapters of Tehillim. I prayed in my own words, in English, to G-d.

And you know what? G-d answered me. I saw Him pushing the train, and I realized it was in G-d's hands. I'm not saying G-d's answers were exactly what I had wanted. But G-d did give me some measure of hope.

I have felt despair. I have felt like my life as I knew it was about to end. I have felt the loss of hope, the darkness that the Yetzer Hara contrives, all of it, for myself and for others. A friend once called me during one of the darkest hours of my life, of which she knew nothing about, and talked blithely about her upcoming wedding and shower gifts. Little did she know that I couldn't even comprehend what she was talking about- as my life as I knew it was shattering into pieces.

But throughout it all- it was G-d running the train. It's like Tzipi Caton's book- Miracle Ride- He's calling all the shots. G-d is running the train, and there is nothing else to do sometimes- but turn to Him. For Hashem is always there for us, and as such, there is always hope.