"I ask You to please accept what I feel is my mesirus nefesh. Please help me through the process and be with me. I can’t do it alone”
I kept procrastinating signing the contract that would finalize the sale of our house. We were leaving for Eretz Yisrael on Motzaei Shabbos, and my husband wanted to finish up with the technical details before we left.
I called my rebbetzin. “I just can’t bring myself to do it. What do you say?” I asked her.
I heard her breathe deeply. “Estie,” she said, “you know you’re going to do this eventually. If you delay, neither you nor your husband will have a nice vacation. He’ll be frustrated, and then you won’t enjoy yourself because he’s upset. It’s worthwhile to push yourself and do it.”
I recognized the truth in her words. Yet I knew that this was something I had to do when I was alone. On Friday morning, when the kids had already left for school and my husband had gone to daven, I took the contract from his desk, closed the office door, and began to talk aloud to Hashem.
“Hashem, You know how hard this is for me. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to leave my friends and the community I’ve helped build. I don’t want to leave my gorgeous house with its beautiful scenery. I can’t imagine replicating the deep support system I have here and starting anew. I have no idea how the rest of the family will acclimate to the change. And we don’t even know exactly where we’re moving to.
“I’ve spoken it over, gotten advice, and decided that this is the best thing for my husband and family now. I know this may not even solve the problems we’re trying to resolve, because we’re not dealing with them at the root, yet I firmly believe this is the only way my husband will reach that conclusion on his own.”
Tears rained down my cheeks. “Hashem,” I continued, “I’m hereby giving You a personal korban. I know people deal with serious health issues, infertility, children on the fringe, and more. Do I even have a right to complain?
“For me, though, this is excruciating. I feel as if the floor is being ripped out from under my feet. I ask You to please accept what I feel is my mesirus nefesh. Please help me through the process and be with me. I can’t do it alone.”
Totally spent, I signed the necessary papers and went to prepare for Shabbos.
to be continued ...
(Excerpted from Family First, Issue 679)
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