The Eternal, your God, Who goes before you—He will
fight for you, just as He did for you in Egypt before your very eyes.
—Deuteronomy 1:30
Deuteronomy is Moses’ farewell address, his final effort
to shape the soul of a nation. Standing at the threshold of the Promised Land,
he didn’t discuss military strategies or political alliances. He spoke of bitachon—trust.
Not in swords or schemes, but in something far less tangible and far more
dependable: the unseen Hand that split the sea and delivered bread from heaven.
Moses reminded them: “God will fight for you, just as He
did in Egypt.”
But let’s not be too hard on them. Even the generation
raised on manna and Divine cloud cover had their shaky moments. Faith is never
easy, especially when the enemy giants look taller than your courage.
Which brings us to the Maggid of Dubno, who, as always,
had just the right story.
The Poor Man and the Carriage
A poor man was trudging down a dusty country road, all
his worldly belongings tied in a sad little bundle slung over his weary
shoulders. His feet shuffled along the road, his back bowed under the weight of
his troubles.
Then, in the distance, something glinted in the waning
light. A carriage, polished and shining, drawn by two magnificent horses,
clattered toward him like a beacon of hope.
The carriage belonged to the local squire, a man both wealthy
and generous. Spotting the bedraggled traveler, the squire reined in his
horses.
“Friend,” he called, “hop in. The road is long, and you’ve
walked enough.”
The poor man, blinking with gratitude, climbed aboard and
sank into the velvet seat. But as the carriage rolled on, the squire noticed
something odd. The man was still clutching his bundle to his chest like it held
family jewels.
The squire smiled kindly at him. “Good fellow, why don’t
you set your baggage down? There’s plenty of room in the carriage.”
The man flushed with embarrassment. “Oh no, sir! You’ve
already done so much by taking me in your carriage. I couldn’t possibly ask
your horses to bear the weight of my belongings as well.”
The squire chuckled, a deep, honest laugh. “Silly fellow,”
he said, shaking his head. “Don’t you see? Whether you hold your bundle or lay
it down, it’s still my horses pulling the load.”
Let Go Already
And that, said the Maggid, is us.
Like the beggar clutching his bundle, we trudge through
life, shoulders hunched under the weight of our worries, convinced that we
alone must bear the burden. We cling to our anxieties as if they were precious
gems.
We all know that, ultimately, our well-being, our
health—in fact, most aspects of life—are not in our hands. So why do we spend
so much time fretting over them? Why do we try to carry the burdens of life on
our own shoulders when, in the end, it’s really not up to us?
King David said it best, and he said it three thousand
years before your therapist: “Cast your burden upon God, and He will sustain
you” (Psalms 55:23).
So go ahead. Sit back, drop the bundle, and let God do His
job.
