Dear Reader,

She was growing in her journey towards a Torah lifestyle. She had questions about faith. She was scared.

“So many young people are dying nowadays. So many good people. Why is this happening? Why is G‑d doing this?”

It is the question of all times. The question that none of us can ever answer.

As much as we speak about our faith in G‑d’s goodness and in the “bigger” picture, G‑d is unfathomable. Human beings never can—and never should—understand suffering and pain, because understanding it somehow legitimizes it and accepts it. And what can be crueler than that?

She wanted to tell me about her daughter.

The deeper our love is, the more intense is our want—no, our need—that everything should turn out good. The more we love, the higher the stakes become and the greater our fear of potential loss.

“I love her so much; she is my life,” she said. “I don’t know what I would do if something happened to her. How can I learn to let go? Not to stifle her, but to leave it up to G‑d.”

And then she told me her story.

She couldn’t have children for many years. She went to specialists. She paid for the most expensive treatments. Finally, she found the top doctor in his field.

It wasn’t easy to secure an appointment. Somehow, she managed. He saw her and was willing to take on her case. Unbelievably, he had a cancellation. He would schedule her for the next Monday afternoon.

She looked at her calendar and refused.

He was shocked; this never happened. People cleared their schedules of the most important appointments, the most lucrative deals, just to see him.

“You are willing to jeopardize your treatment?” he asked in disbelief.

“I can’t,” she answered. “Monday is Yom Kippur.” She didn’t need to explain. The doctor may not have been observant, but he was Jewish. One Jewish soul faced another.

“I see,” he deliberated for just a moment. “In that case, you aren’t just going to pray on Monday. You are going to pray like you’ve never prayed before, as if your life depended on it!” He then found her a different appointment.

Her pregnancy had its ups and downs. At one point the amniotic fluid almost disappeared. She was advised to abort. She refused. She told them never to ask her again. Months later they asked again. She still refused.

Her precious daughter, the child that she was now so devoted to, was born healthy.

As is so often the case, it was clear that her own story provided the direction she was seeking. She carried the keys to the questions that tormented her.

How could she let G‑d take over? She already had.

For this was the child who was born only because she let G‑d take over. Again and again.

Chana Weisberg,
Editor, TJW