MAKE a Good Shabbos!

Shabbos can sometimes be stressful in my house. I was hoping to go away this week, (as an escape...) but I am needed at home, so I will stay.
A thought for the day:
People tell you to "Have a Good Shabbos" But what does that mean? Good days, good shabbossim, they dont happen. You make them. Whatever happens this shabbos, I have a choice. I can make it good, or I can make it not too good. Life is about making the best of your circumstances. So, to my readers, I say:
"Make an amazing shabbos!"

The Nisayon Of The Dor Hamidbar

Superficially, it seems like the Dor Hamidbar had it easy.
They didn't have to work. They didn't have to worry about providing for their families. Their food just rained down on them from heaven.

Yet, they were tested with the ultimate test of bitachon.
Imagine what they went through. Each night, they went to sleep with an empty pantry, with no food in the fridge. They had no concrete proof that the morning would come and they would find the mahn on the ground.
Yet they believed.
And He didn't disappoint them.

Those people faced a choice. They could have stayed up all night worrying about the lack of food, the lack of assurance...and they would have found the mahn in the morning.
Or they could have made the wise choice. They could have said to themselves "the mahn will be there in the morning. There is no point in worrying. It won't get me anywhere."....and the outcome would be the same.
They would also find mahn in the morning. But they gained a restful night of sleep.

I often feel that I am lucky to be tested in the way that Dor Hamidbar was. I don't know how my family will continue to manage. Al pi derech hatevah, there is no way it will work. Yet, it will. Because He is providing for us.

So I have no reason to worry and fret and lose sleep.
As they say: "Worrying is like sitting on a rocking chair. You go back and forth and forth and back, but you never actually get anywhere."

I am content to know that Hashem is taking care of me.
I am content to know that the mahn will be there in the morning.
And that is all I need to know.

Lucky? I say Loved!

When a person buys a house, they often take out a mortgage. What that means, is that although they think they own their house, the bank owns it. You make monthly payments to the bank, and they let you continue pretending that you own the house. It is all a game.
The trouble begins when the person can't meet their mortgage payments. After a while, the banks decide that they had enough, and they aren't going to play the game anymore. They are reclaiming the house that was really theirs all along. And so they file a lawsuit, saying they want to kick you out of your house for failure to make your mortgage payments.
It isn't pleasant to read about it in the newspapers, you don't think of it on a personal level. Imagine waking up one morning and seeing a sign on your neighbor's lawn that says "FORECLOSURE".
What?! You say. My neighbor's house was foreclosed? I never even knew they were having financial troubles!
You never knew? Shame it's too late, huh?

In my family, we understand the personal aspect of foreclosures. The original action was filed a couple of months ago, but they made a huge mistake in the filing. They filed two actions and each one had a signed statement saying that this was the only pending action on this particular property. So my father's lawyer (no, we don't have money for legal bills) got to work on this. And now it is a matter of stalling them.
They withdrew the action, and refiled it, with another, different mistake. Then, after a while, they sorted that mistake out, and made another.
Yesterday, my father's lawyer called him to say that they made another mistake. And then he said: "It's the fourth big mistake they made. It's hard to believe you can get so lucky."
Lucky? Hah! The lawyer is a yid, but obviously not a frum one, and doesn't understand. Even when Hashem is testing someone with a really tough nisayon, He helps them, protects them, gives them what they need. I don't know what the benefit of stalling it is, as I see foreclosure as inevitable. But obviously, there is a plan, a reason. Maybe indeed my father's business is destined to make a comeback, and we will have lots of money and be able to save the house. Who knows? After all, we all know: Yeshuas Hashem Keheref Ayin.
What I know is that we weren't lucky. Hashem is showing us that in the darkest of times, at the darkest of hours, in the hardest of situations, He is there, guiding us, holding our hand, and taking care of us. We are not lucky. We are in the loving embrace of Hashem.
And for now we are in our house, leaky roof, broken doors, mold, and all the rest. Because Hashem loves us, and this is where He wants us for now.

Ani Chashuv K'meis

My mother and I had a conversation today and this came up, I wrote it, from what she said:

background: the bookkeeper in her company went on vacation and the fill in bookkeeper made some mistakes and a bunch of paychecks were bounced, my mother's included

There is no way to describe the feeling. It was erev shabbos, my paycheck had bounced. I had no money in my account, it was in overdraw by over a thousand dollars. I didn't even have any cash in my wallet. I was literally penniless. I couldn't pay for anything. I didn't know how to make shabbos for my family. Suddenly, as the pit settled into my stomach and I felt worthless and helpless.
I now understood why a poor person is considered dead.



(I wasn't going to post this because it is very depressing. But this blog is thoughts running through my head and I can't get this one out.)

Operating At A Loss

(warning: depressing post. I guess I need to disprove all those people who have emailed me that I'm amazing and I'm strong....)

I got my tax return information yesterday. And it was seriously depressing. Last year, I made much more than I thought I made. Nice, huh?
Yeah right.
Currently, my bank account contains about 2 thousand dollars less than it did at this time last year. People some times tell me that they know of this bank offering CD's with great rates. Or a savings account with an awesome interest rate. But how should I tell them that I don't have any use for savings accounts?
Realize that I don't use all my money each week. I don't live paycheck to paycheck. Rather, I use whatever I need, as the need arises. Sometimes my bank account will swell up to a few thousand more than normal, and then suddenly my father will have a bunch of bills that he just can't pay. As embarrassing as it is for him, he has no choice but to ask me for a check. And so I pull out my checkbook, write out a check for $3,000 as if it's a check for $36 going to some organization. But it's not. It's a lot of money. It's for my father.
And I need to save for things like yomim tovim. Last pesach I spent thousands of dollars outfitting my whole family with new clothing, buying groceries, and things like that. So, while all of my money is not needed on a constant, day to day basis, I can't tie my money up in CD's. I need it in my checking account. I need to be able to tell my father that no matter what, he should ask me for the money to pay something, rather than let them shut off our electricity again. Or anything else.
And so, this year, I opperated at a loss. I spent more money than I earned. Despite the fact that I earned a lot. (Working as much overtime as my company allows pays off....)
As I prepare to file my tax return, I notice the irony. And as funny as this sounds, I come under a high tax bracket. Because the charity I give isn't tax deductible.
But I don't need savings accounts. I have a savings account up there.

Hard=Good

Another reason I started this blog, and decided to make it public, is because there is something I want to share with the world. This is actually the main reason I decided to share all of this.

This is an argument I constantly have with my sister. She feels that her life is so tough and she can't bare it. I tried to explain this to her, but despite my efforts she won't listen, she won't understand.

Yes, there are people out there who have a "perfect" life. Leaving aside the argument about what "perfect" means, let's say, for argument's sake, that she actually has a "perfect" life.
A nice family. A wealthy father. Pretty. Talented. Gorgeous house. Fun mother. Cute sisters. Well behaved brothers. I mean, seriously, you name it, she's got it. She is lacking nothing. Of course, pesach time she came home from seminary, got engaged to the top boy in Lakewood (whose father is among the wealthiest Jews in america), had a beautiful chasuna, moved into a stunning apartment, and has an adorable baby boy within a year after her chasunah. But I met this girl at a chasunah recently, and I couldn't help but feel that she is one of the most immature girls I've ever met. How could it be? This girl has been through life experiences I can't even fathom. A wedding. Marriage. Pregnancy. Child birth. Motherhood.
And I've been through none of that! So why am I calling her immature?
Because this girl doesn't seem to realize what life is all about. While I am sure this girl is an amazing wife, a model mother, she doesn't seem to understand the true meaning in life.
Assuming that life experience is measured in terms of accomplishments, in terms of overcoming hurdles and climbing mountains, I have seen much more of life than she has. Wouldn't you say that I'm luckier than she is? This girl doesn't have the same opportunities for growth that I have. She doesn't have the same life experiences that I have. So, while I am still single, and I have not experienced some of the things she has, in terms of moving ON, I have experienced things she has not in terms of moving UP.
I the few people that know my story usually react by saying something like "Oh, wow! You have such a hard life"

Life is not about getting through looking pretty. Life is about toiling, about sweating, about working your kishkes out, about becoming the best you can be.

In that case, please, please realize: hard=good!

Honestly, I don't think that my life is bad. Tough? At times. Hard? Yeah, I would say so. But not bad. I wouldn't trade my life for someone else's life. Not for all the money in the world. No matter how badly I need it.

The Box

I was reading a story recently that discussed a family suffering through extreme poverty. When they got "The Box" from a tzedaka organization, they were cringing from embarrassment, because it had the organization's logo on the box.

Thursday night I learned the difference between real life and the stories.

In real life, "The Box" doesn't have the logo of the organization that sent it. But in real life there is plenty to be embarrassed of anyway.

Here's what happened:

I knew that between some repairs we needed done (the kind that can't be put off of course-those are the only type we do) and the length of time elapsed since my mother's last paycheck, combined with my sister's tutor needing to be paid, money would be extra tight this week. So despite the late hour, I left to go to a drive through ATM machine near my house. I figured I would take out 500 dollars cash, to distribute as needed. As I walked out of my house, I saw a minivan in my driveway. The minute I opened the door, the van sped off. Then I looked down at my feet and saw a big box, sitting right there on my doorstep. I got this awul feeling in the pit of my stomach, but left anyway.
I got home ten minutes later, cash in hand, and I knew I had to bring the box inside. I shlepped it in, and opened it up, and my heart sank somewhere deep into the pit of my stomach.

It was so different, yet so similar from the stories.

I panicked. Why are they sending us this stuff? How did they know about us? Why do they think we need it? WHAT SHOULD I DO WITH IT NOW?

I called my sister into the kitchen, and we panicked together. We came to a mutual decision that my father should not see this, as it might be the last straw to his already battered pride. We quickly unpacked the groceries, trying to make it look as if we bought them.

Then we went to sleep.

That only pushed off reality for a few hours. I'm not sure how, as I was at work, but my parents found out about "The Box". I never saw my family in such a state. My mother liked the idea. My father was horrified. Everyone was fighting. It was awful.

Real life is sometimes tougher than the stories.

Why don't they believe?

Recently, I was listening to two girls talking about how worried they are about shidduchim. I asked what they mean. So one of them asked me if I am worried about shiduchim. I replied. "Of course not. I am going to marry the boy I am supposed to marry on the day I'm supposed to
marry him. Not a day earlier and not a day later." "Do you honestly believe that" She asked me. "Yes", I replied. "Really? You believe it a hundred percent?" She asked. "Yes. Of course
I do." Was my answer. She looked skeptical, as If I was trying to sound like this big tzadekes even though I'm not.
How should I have explained to her that I'm not this big tzadekes, and that if I wouldn't believe that Hashem was taking care of me I probably wouldn't be able to get up in the morning.

That's what I mean by desperate faith. I'm not sure if desperate is the right term. I mean, I'm not desperate, it's just that I NEED my faith.

It's like the mashul that there was a man who was shlepping some heavy packages down the road- by foot. When someone offered him a ride, he accepted gratefully, but insisted on keeping his packages on his lap. "Its enough that you are giving me a ride, I don't want to burden you
with my packages also."

As silly as the man is, this is the way of the world. People think they should take over for Hashem, or maybe that they should help Him out. But it's ridiculous! Hashem doesn't need our help! And anyway, we aren't being a help to him by worrying.

So I leave it to him. Really, it's my only choice. If I was really thinking that all the financial responsibilities of my family were mine and I didn't have help, I would give up. It's not possible for me to do it all.

But it's not my problem. It's His problem. Same with everything else I am dealing with. The problem isn't mine. The solution is out of my hands.

And knowing this, combined with the knowledge that Hashem loves me and that He wants only good for me, I know that while things may seem tough, it's all good.