Disappointments Are Chasdei Hashem

Q: When life is frustrating, how can a person not get angry or depressed?

A: In my lifetime, I look back and see that some people I thought were enemies of mine — I know of two or three cases at least — turned out later to do very good benefits to me. In my rabbanus, there was a man I considered an enemy. He did something against me, but he was the first and only one to speak up on my behalf to give me a raise. And he spoke up a second time, too, to give me a raise. There was another man who spoke against me [he showed public disrespect to the Rav], and I wanted to expel him from the shul, but later, he turned out to be a big benefactor. So, when something frustrating happens, something that frustrates your hopes, you may not be happy at the moment, but later it could turn out to be a very great chessed for you.

When I was a young boy, a yeshivah bachur, I thought I’d be an artist. I was fifteen years old and used to draw pictures all the time. People admired my pictures, so I thought I’d be an artist. One day, I went downtown to the Institute of Arts to see if I could register, and I found out that I’d have to be there on Shabbos, too. I was disappointed. Baruch Hashem, I didn’t register!

When I was twenty-one, I was bashful. I thought, I’m not a public speaker, not the type to talk to people in public, so I won’t go into rabbanus. What should I do? I decided to become a public school teacher. So, I went to the Board of Education and applied. A man was sitting behind the desk there and said, “What are you doing now?” I said, “I’m a rabbinical student.” He said, “Go back to your rabbinical school.” A gentile man told me to go back — a malach min hashamayim. But at that moment, I was taken aback.

When I was twenty-four, I was already out in the world. At twenty-four, you were a finished man in those days, a long time ago. I went to an old rebbi of mine. Now, he was the head of all the Talmud Torahs, and I was his favorite talmid. I knew he’d offer me a job if I went to him. I sat in the waiting room and saw another person there. I knew him from the yeshivah. Already when I was a boy I learned and knew Tanach well, and I knew Lashon Kodesh well, but this boy didn’t know anything. He was a ball player. We came there for the same job, and this man wasn’t his rebbi. I thought for sure I’d get the job, but I didn’t. He gave it to this other boy. It was beyond my comprehension. But baruch Hashem I didn’t. Instead, I went to Slabodka.

Disappointments in life are chasdei Hashem. He rescued me again and again and again. There are more stories like that in my life. I look back now and say, “Baruch Hashem!” it turned out that way. So, you have to think into it, but you’ll eventually discover that it was the best thing. You’ll become full of satisfaction that your hope was frustrated at that time, even though it didn’t feel that way at first.

“Kol d’avid Rachmana l’tav avid — All that the Merciful One does is for good” (Brachos 60b). A person has to make that his motto in life. You have to make up your mind that you’re going to learn how to be satisfied with everything, even when you think otherwise. When Rabbi Akiva was refused lodging in a village, he thanked Hashem then, at that time, for the kindness. Subsequently, the entire village was carried off into slavery by captors. Retroactively, Rabbi Akiva discovered that he was rescued from captivity by their refusal to give him lodging. However, he sang his thanks to Hashem beforehand, for even then, he knew that Hashem had bestowed good on him by their refusal to give him lodging.

At first, you’re only saying it with your mouth, superficially. But you let the principle of the Mesilas Yesharim take over — “Hatenu’ah hachitzonah me’oreres hap’nimis — External actions bestir internal feelings” (Chapter 7). Get into the habit of saying, “It’s good.” Other people will laugh at you — but you don’t care. “It’s good. Very good.” In the end, you’ll start thinking that way.

Let’s say you build a home, and the building inspector comes and says you have to build a railing. Without a railing, he won’t give you a certificate of occupancy. You get angry. He’s persecuting you with so many details — but those details will save your life. Someday you’ll be walking on the steps, trip, and catch hold of the handrail. So, this gentile who persecuted you and demanded the handrail was actually saving your life. It happens again and again.

Another thing a person should consider is that maybe Hashem is giving him a pinch, a wake-up call, for something he had done. “Ein tzaddik ba’aretz asher ya’aseh tov v’lo yecheta — There is no righteous man on earth who does good and never sins” (Koheles 7:20). Everybody has to be reminded from time to time about the small things he did wrong, or chalilah, the big things. Hashem sends reminders. A person should take it to heart and think, “Maybe I have to better my ways.” It’s a tremendous benefit to use the reminders Hashem sends. If Hashem sends tzaros, the tzaros are the biggest benefit. “Odecha Hashem ki anafta bi — I thank You, Hashem, that You were angry at me” (Yeshayah 12:1). It’s the best thing if a person utilizes the tzaros to become better and says, “Oh, if that’s the case, I’m going to start going to a Gemara shiur every night instead of sitting at home and reading the newspapers.” That’s a tremendous achievement. No question.

It’s essential to make it a principle in life to see all the good things Hashem is doing for you. That’s an important principle. It takes a little thought. You have to decide that from now on, you’re going to see that all the things that happened are for your benefit and accustom yourself to think that everything is tov me’od, very good.