Bitachon
in the Desert: Trusting Hashem in Daily Portions 

  

When I first started working for my dad,
it was at a fiscally difficult time. His partner and cousin elected to be
bought out which created a huge financial burden, there were big loan
commitments and a new and very expensive showroom. 

  

My dad would hand me a paper on Monday
morning with an amount. This is what we need to deposit by Friday to cover the
week. It was a way to focus and keep things moving. 

  

Years later when all the commitments and
the loans were paid, he would still remind me every week of something which
stays with me today: 

  

“Don’t worry about making enough for the
year. Worry about making enough for the week. Because if you ask Hashem to
carry you through the whole year, you’ll forget to come back to Him tomorrow.
But if you ask for this week, you’ll come back next week. And the week after.
And every day, you’ll be in a relationship with Him.” 

  

He’d also tell us about the king with
two sons. One came once a year for his allowance. The other came every week.
The second son complained. “Why do I have to keep coming each week while my
brother only comes once a year? Why can’t you just give me everything at once?” 

  

And the king smiled and said: “Because I
love you. I want to see you. I want to hear your voice. Spending time with you
gives me great pleasure. So I only give you enough for a little while—because I
want you to come back.” 

  

That’s bitachon. Trust. Not just in the
outcome—but in the relationship. 

  

In Parshat Beha’alotecha, we read about
the manna—the miraculous bread that fell from heaven. Our Sages teach that
reading this portion is a segulah for parnassah, for sustenance. 

  

But the Mishnah Berurah warns us:
reading the words without internalizing their meaning is like carrying a check
without depositing it. 

  

The manna teaches us that hishtadlut—our
effort—is a vessel, but it is not the source. As Shlomo HaMelech writes in
Kohelet: 

  

“לא לחכמים לחם”—“Bread does not come to
the wise.” 

  

Rabbi Asher Weiss explains that the
portion of the manna reminds us our sustenance is ordained from Above. On Rosh
Hashanah, it is decreed precisely how much each person will earn for the year.
Our job is to do the necessary hishtadlus to create a vessel to contain
Hashem's blessing, while recognizing all along that it is not our effort that
brings success but Hashem's blessing alone. 

  

Some years back I wrote of a Shabbat
after season in Florida. I sat with some of the wealthiest men in our community
and they all started sharing their stories. To a man, they all testified, it
was not their brains, not their strategy, not even their hard work and long
hours which brought them wealth, it was in every case a convergence of
coincidences that could only be orchestrated by Heaven above. 

  

Rabbi Elimelech Biderman, quoting the
Tiferet Shmuel, finds this message in the menorah, which opens this week's
parashah. All seven lamps received the same amount of oil. But the “ner
maaravi”—the western lamp—burned longer. Why? Because Hashem willed it so.
Hishtadlus isn’t the decisive factor. The menorah itself teaches that when
Hashem desires, the same oil lasts longer. 

  

“המֲַרבֶּה לֹא הַעַדִיף וְהַמֲעִיט לֹא
הְחַסִיר” (Shemot 16:18) 

  

No matter how much manna they gathered,
they returned home to find that it exactly suited the needs of their family.
Rabbi Asher Weiss draws from this that effort alone does not determine results.
Hashem provides according to what is destined for each of us. 

  

This is one of the most radical truths
of Torah: You don’t control outcomes. You only control your vessel—your trust,
your awareness, your faith. 

  

The Talmud in Yoma 76a explains: Why did
the manna fall daily, not weekly or monthly? To teach Am Yisrael to rely on
Hashem every single day. A person who has no food for tomorrow will cry out to
Heaven with sincerity. 

  

And the Midrash Tanchuma says the same:
“So that Israel’s hearts would turn toward their Father in Heaven every day.” 

  

Rabbi Biderman shares another mashal:
the older a fish, a snake, or a chazir grows, the stronger it becomes, even
though they eat almost nothing. To teach us: “Man does not live on bread
alone...” 

  

The Zohar in Beshalach (62a) reveals
that the manna flowed through the sephirot into Olam HaBeri’ah. The Noam
Elimelech quotes R' Zusha: the question “What will we eat?” damages the
channel. Rabbi Asher Weiss echoes this idea, teaching that even the question
itself reflects a lack of bitachon and creates a blockage in the channels
through which blessing flows. Faith, on the other hand, keeps the pipeline
open. 

  

The story is told of R’ Zusha, who
touched a door and walked away. Rabbi Asher Weiss recounts this story as an
example of how true bitachon diminishes the need for hishtadlus. According to
one's level of trust, the vessel need not be larger than a light tap. 

  

Rabbi Biderman adds a story of a wealthy
man who refused to interrupt his lunch for a business deal. Why? Because the
goal of parnassah was to enjoy peace, not to chase more wealth. 

  

The Baal Shem Tov: Perfect bitachon
nullifies even heavenly decrees. 

  

The Chazon Ish: Trust cannot guarantee
specific outcomes. Sometimes judgment must run its course. 

  

Rabbi Asher Weiss clarifies: The two are
not contradictory. When one aligns fully with Hashem's will, as Rav Chaim
Volozhiner explains, nothing can harm him—not because of his will, but because
of the merger with Divine will. 

  

**Stories to Carry With You** 

  

📖 *The Baal Shem Tov and the Bitachon
Trade* 

The Baal Shem Tov once met a destitute
man who said, “I sold my only possession—my bitachon.” When asked what he
meant, the man explained, “I gave everything over to Hashem. I no longer worry,
because I trust completely that He will provide.” That same day, he was
miraculously repaid in silver and gold. To the Baal Shem Tov, it was a living
proof that complete surrender to Hashem's will does not leave one empty—it
fills one with blessing. 

  

📖 *R’ Aharon of Karlin and the Storm* 

R’ Aharon of Karlin was once traveling
with his students when they were caught in a violent storm. The wind howled,
the rain came down in sheets, and the wagon threatened to overturn. Panic
spread among his followers. But R’ Aharon simply began singing aloud, “Ein Od
Milvado—There is nothing but Him.” As the words filled the air, the storm began
to quiet. Within minutes, the winds died down. The students watched in awe as
the world returned to calm—not by meteorological pattern, but by spiritual
intervention born of bitachon. 

  

📖 *Rav Eliezer Pressman and the
Inheritance* 

Rav Eliezer Pressman zt'l was a
great talmid chacham from Bnei Brak. One day, his rebbetzin received a call
from the U.S. Embassy. Reb Eliezer had been left a large inheritance, and only
needed to come to Tel Aviv to sign. But he refused. He feared the environment
of Tel Aviv would compromise his standards of modesty and shemiras einayim. 

  

His rebbetzin politely asked if someone
from the embassy could come to Bnei Brak. They laughed. A few days later,
another call: a delegation of U.S. senators wanted to meet a 'very
religious Jew.' Could her husband be available? She agreed—so long as it
was bein hasedarim. The ambassador came, along with the senators—and the
documents. Rav Eliezer signed at home. 

  

As they left, an embassy official said,
“Even if you were the president’s son, we would not have done this for you.
We’ve never done this before.” 

  

But Heaven had. 

  

📖 *And my father’s story, where we
began...* 

He used to say: “Ask Hashem for enough
to get through this week. Not more. If you ask for the year, you won’t come
back until next year.” 

  

And he told us: The King gives each son
his stipend. But the son He loves, He only gives enough for a week. Because He
wants him to come back. To talk. To look Him in the eye. To reconnect. 

  

Bitachon isn’t a trick to get what you
want. It’s a life of closeness to Hashem. 

  

One breath. One prayer. One portion of
manna. 

  

The Toldos Yaakov Yosef, quoting the
Rambam, writes: If we had perfect bitachon, we’d be fed from Heaven. As Rabbi
Asher Weiss reminds us: The more we cultivate trust, the more blessing we can
receive. 

  

May we never be satisfied with asking
for enough for the year. May we come back each day—to speak, to ask, to thank.
May our daily “manna”—our health, our income, our peace—arrive without
blockage. And may we trust, not because we know the outcome—but because we know
the One Who holds it. 

  

Shabbat Shalom, 

  

David Bibi