A desperately ill parent, an imminent divorce, irreversible infertility — sometimes we’re faced with a situation that seems hopeless. Should we ever stop davening for a miracle? Is unwavering optimism the best response? At what point do we accept the grim reality? Insight and guidance on how to respond to “worst-case scenario” situations

We Jews believe in miracles. We know that Hashem can go beyond nature and deliver salvation in the blink of an eye. That’s why we pour our hearts out in tefillah when a parent is given a grim diagnosis or a spouse gets into an accident or a married daughter is told she can never have children biologically.

But how healthy is it to focus most of one’s time and energy hoping for an unlikely outcome? How optimistic are we supposed to be, and when does that positivity become an unhealthy escape from reality?

“At the end of Abba’s life, his body began to shut down after a long, horrible fight with cancer. For the last two days before his petirah, he lay bedridden, hooked up to machines, unconscious. My mother and I sat next to his bed and wondered how we should direct our prayers.

“Should we still be davening for a refuah sheleimah? Was that even realistic considering his state? Were we supposed to ignore the doctor’s dire predictions and daven for a miracle recovery — or accept the facts and daven for my father to have a smooth departure from this world? We couldn’t figure out where to draw the line between appropriate optimism — and denial.”

It’s hard to hold out hope when a situation looks so bleak. This is especially true if the nisayon has stretched on for a long period. Sometimes, a person simply can’t muster up any more faith and decides to be “realistic” and deal with the evidence before them.

“I married the wrong person and now I’m stuck with that mistake. For the first 17 years of my marriage, I hoped and prayed that my husband would change. I did everything in my power, both practically and spiritually, to bring him around.

“Eventually I accepted that he was who he was, essentially someone I could never respect or love. By the time I realized that he wasn’t going to become the kind of partner I longed for, we already had a large family and I didn’t believe that putting my children through a divorce would be right. At this point, I no longer expect that our situation will improve. I’m just trying to make peace with the fact that I ruined my life.”

After nearly two decades of positive thinking, this woman has finally come to terms with her situation. She’s tired of hoping, burned out from trying.

But if we look closely at her complaint, we can see a clear dividing line between the facts and her interpretation of them. The facts are that this woman doesn’t like her husband’s personality; people don’t usually make huge changes in their personalities; she is committed to her marriage; and she is disappointed in the quality of her marriage.

Her interpretation of the facts is that her unhappiness is caused by her choice of marital partner (rather than, for example, events orchestrated by Hashem), that her life is ruined (rather than, for example, that she can be happy despite this loss), and that there’s no further chance of her husband becoming more lovable to her (rather than, for example, things can change at any time).

Why has she given up hope at this point? Because she decided to be “realistic.” She looked at the facts and drew her own conclusion: “If things haven’t changed yet, they’ll never change in the future.” Moreover, she is exhausted from hoping and being disappointed. She believes she’ll save herself anguish by putting hope to rest.

But she may pay a price for that.