A Big Fat Zero

In London, ‘squeegee bandits’ would take advantage of the fact that you were stuck at the traffic lights to wash your windscreen – even if you didn’t want them to – and to demand a quid in payment. If you didn’t pay up, you were risking a bent aerial, a dirty look or even, some curse words and a scratched door. Charming country.

 

Here in Israel, things are different. At various traffic lights, you’ll find a variety of holy Jews, giving out a variety of emuna CDs, books and pamphlets. At that particular traffic light near the Malcha Mall, I often see students from the Chut Shel Chesed yeshiva trying to spread the word by giving out books and CDs by Rav Arush. Whenever I can, I try to donate a few shekels, and when I do, I always but always get given a Rav Arush CD that appears to be talking about exactly what’s going on in my life.

 

Today is a case in point. Today, I’d driven into Jerusalem to pick up some boxes to start packing up all our things for our imminent move. It’s funny, but there have been so very many things going in my life recently, that I hadn’t really internalised the fact that we were moving. Again. But today, as I was driving home with a trunk full of cardboard boxes, it hit me, and I started to feel a bit weird about it all. A bit lonely and alone, and a bit low. I hate to admit it, but for the first time in a long time – and despite knowing that this whole process has been a kindness and a blessing right from the beginning – I started to feel a teeny tiny bit sorry for myself; and a teeny tiny bit like I’d somehow failed.

 

Of course, it was my yetzer hara, my evil inclination, which never fails to spot an opportunity to put the boot in. I tried to counter by reminding myself of all the tremendous kindnesses that Hashem has done for me recently: He sold my house so fast and for a good price; He bought us a vacant-possession lovely house fast and for a good price; He’s already found us a renter for the room at the front (and we haven’t even moved in yet…); He’s found me a great job; we’re moving to a great community; I know the kids will be much, much happier there, and hopefully we will too.

 

So what was the problem?

 

The problem was, I still felt like a bit of a loser. I’ve been telling myself the whole way along that everything that happened – particularly the fact that as a family, we had very few friends, and just didn’t seem to ‘fit’ socially – was just because we were in the wrong place, and Hashem wanted us to be somewhere that suited us better, and that would enable us to continue to grow towards Him.

 

And 99% of the time I truly believe it. But this morning, I was having the 1% feeling that maybe, just maybe, we were the problem after all.

 

And then I got a CD from the nice Breslever near the Malcha Mall interchange, which told me that I was a big, fat zero – and it was just what I needed to hear! Rav Arush was explaining that whenever we try to do something ‘on our own’, without Hashem, it’s a worthless endeavour. But with Hashem, we are everything, because Hashem is infinite and can do anything.

 

The whole way through, I’ve been reminding myself that everything was Hashem. The kids who were teasing my daughters were Hashem. The angst and fear was Hashem. The loneliness and uncertainty was Hashem. Everything but everything was Hashem, and my job was just to try and work out what He was telling me, and not take anything personally or beat myself up for not doing or being something different.

 

Today, I forgot that a bit. Today, I forgot that Hashem runs the world, and started framing things in terms of ‘I’ again. “I must have done something wrong…” “I didn’t make enough effort…” “I should have tried harder to help the kids have more of a social life…” etc etc etc

 

Which of course, is a load of rubbish! Hashem had a plan, and He’s executed it to perfection, on so many levels. My job – and the main job of all of us down here – is simply to recognise that Hashem runs the world, and that much as we might like to believe we make things happen, we don’t.

 

According to Rav Arush, our main work down here is to recognise that without Hashem, we are nothing at all. The flip side, of course, is that a person who really has genuine humility, and who recognises that without Hashem they are absolutely nothing, paradoxically has infinite potential and greatness… The case in point is Moshe Rabbenu, who is described in the Torah as being the humblest of all men – despite the fact that he spoke face to face with G-d on countless occasions.

 

I cheered up a lot. The first part of the equation – feeling like a big, fat, zero – wasn’t the problem. The problem was, I forgot to connect that zero to Hashem. I can’t do anything – I can’t make friends, move house, sort out the furniture, sort out the kids schools – anything, by myself. And I don’t have to. I have a Friend in a very high place; a Friend who has taken care of all the details so far, and Who, Bezrat Hashem, will continue to take care of me and my family.

 

I can’t help hoping that I (there it is again!) will get to stay in a house for longer than two years this time round. That I will find my niche, and that my family will truly be happy in the next place. It’s human nature, I suppose. That’s my aspiration. But I’m increasingly trying to trust Hashem, and to internalise that any plan I have without Him is pointless, and that His plan for me is simply the best possible one there could be.