Have you ever had an epiphany that was so simple, yet so profound?

I had one such experience some years ago. I was reading a reflection from a very special rabbi who had lost his wife at a young age, leaving him widowed with small children.

The rabbi described attending a family member’s wedding aHis grief and mourning knew no bounds short while after his wife’s passing. His grief and mourning knew no bounds; may no one ever know such sorrow. At the same time, he described the joy he felt that night for his dear family member who was celebrating the happiest day of his life.

And so, though the last thing he felt like doing that night was dancing, he allowed himself to be pulled into the circle of dancers. To be lifted for a few moments into a different world, a world of joy and bliss. The dancing that had previously felt like a dishonor to the grief and sorrow now took its place in juxtaposition to the celebration. With unbelievable inner strength, he had carved out a space in his heart for both emotions to rest.

I read it a few times. I pondered its deep message. Then it hit me. So simple, yet so profound.

Our hearts can carry and even embrace two opposite emotions. To embrace one emotion does not mean to deny the other one.

May no one ever have to internalize this message in the wake of such tragedy. But think about it on a smaller scale. How many times a week do we grapple with this very challenge?

“How can I cook dinner for her after her recent surgery? Do you know how badly she hurt my feelings last month?”

“How can I come to Shabbat services? Do you know how much anger I feel towards G‑d?”

“I cannot show up to that community gathering. I am feeling too down to be around people right now.”

Two emotions. Both feel very raw and very real.

Compassion and hurt. Anger and connection. Participation and isolation. They feel mutually exclusive, but they are not.

Our hearts can carry and even embrace two opposite emotions. And to embrace one does not mean to deny the other one.

Where do we get the strength for this? In one word: G‑d. We need to be touched by the Infinite.

The more we work to bring G‑d into every facet of our daily lives and deepen our faith in Him, the more space we make for this miracle to occur.

Because to connect with G‑d—the great Infinite Almighty G‑d—is to tap into the Infinite within ourselves. A place that is not limited to one emotion or the other. A place in which two opposite emotions can comfortably reside. Without being in conflict with one another.

In addition, a life lived with G‑d at its center—a life where weTo connect with G‑d is to tap into the Infinite within ourselves recognize that we are not living of our own accord—opens us up to G‑d’s call of the hour. When we are feeling sad, down or afraid, we are cognizant of the fact that we answer to a Higher Power, G‑d, and what He asks of us at this particular time. It empowers us with the ability to embrace bravery, joy, compassion and connection, even if we’re feeling anything but that.

This is G‑d’s call of the hour to me at this moment.

G‑d is asking that I embrace both emotions right now.

And He is giving me the strength to do so.

As a nation, we have lived with this reality throughout our long and difficult exile. We have carried the hardships of galut with broken hearts and tear-filled eyes. Yet those very same hearts and minds have carried abounding faith, joy, optimism, perseverance and Jewish pride—determined to make the world a bright, kind and G‑dly place.

May we merit the coming of Moshiach speedily in our days, when no longer will our hearts have to carry emotions that seem to tug us in opposing directions. Rather, we will be filled only with joy, faith, connection, peace and G‑dliness.