In Ancient Egypt, things only got worse for the Hebrew slaves before they got better. Why?
A parable:
A father answers the questions of his child and they are happy together, in joyful dialogue.
Then the child asks a question, a meaningful question. A question that provides a window to his soul.
So now the father must think deeply—not just for the answer, but to reach to the essence of this answer so he may bring it to the world of his child. For a long while, the father is quiet.
And so, the child becomes anxious and begins to cry. “Father, where are you? Why do you no longer talk to me? Why have you deserted me for your own thoughts?”
And then the father begins to speak, but this time it is the deepest core of his mind that flows into the mind and heart of the child. Such a flow that with this the child, too, may become a father.
The child is us. The time of silence is now.
When the spirit of humankind is dim, when the flow gates of Above seem all but sealed, when the heavens are silent, prepare for liberation.


A human father, being human, needs time to think. That makes sense, because humans think at a finite, limited speed.
But it does not make sense to say that G-d would need time to think. That would mean that he is limited and cannot think at an infinite speed.
Yes, glad to see someone is looking deeper. In every teaching, it’s vital to discern between the message and the metaphor. (The author of the metaphor in this case is R. Schneur Zalman of Liadi.)
The silence in this case is not for the the teacher, but for the student.
A performing artist can relate to this—and a good teacher is in many ways a performing artist. Silence, like white space, is as much a part of any communication as speech or music. In many ways, it is profoundly deeper. Silence can say things for which there are no words, no notes.
For one thing, silence provides a space for the listener, a window through which he can choose to enter the experience with his entire being.
Like today: We grope in spiritual darkness, searching for a signal in desperation within a vast ocean of confusion—a world in which even those who should know better “consider darkness light, and light darkness.” As we persist in that search, we touch the stubborn rock-bottom of our souls and grasp the very core of truth, that which we could never know at a time of light and clarity.
The great resurgence of light that follows will only serve to illuminate that which we are attaining in these moments now. May it come sooner than we can imagine.