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From constraints to new heights.
The following is a dialogue between the Guard and a GYE member who recently experienced a fall (relapse) and received an encouraging message from the former:
Member: “You say that when you fall, you fall to go higher, but why does it have to be that way? I'm recognizing a lot that I didn't see before. Yes, I'm in a better place in a way. But why can't it be different? And I don't think it's worth breaking Shabbos and knowing I'll do so at the flick of a finger just to get more clarity. Isn't it better just to stay where you were at?
Why's the fall worth getting to some sense of okay-ness?”
Guard: “Only PAST falls can be used to show us the way forward. NEVER falls in the future. Chas Veshalom!”
M: “I meant, is falling really worth where you get to from it? I don't mean if you choose to fall.
What's the point of it? Isn't it better to just stay at the lower level? Why does your life and Judaism have to be risked to learn to live life in a healthier way? Is there no other way?”
G: “As Jews, we need to look at all our past falls as if they were meant to happen by Hashem. But in the current moment, we must believe that we have the full free choice to decide how we will act. Although this sounds like a paradox, our small minds are simply not able to grasp it. It is one of the great secrets and challenges of Emunah.
You are asking, "Why did Hashem bring me to all these past falls? Wouldn't it have been better to stay on a lower level?" - Well, we have to trust that Hashem knows what He's doing. We can't understand His ways, but evidently He felt you needed to go through the falls as part of His great plan for you. But NOW, you have the free choice to choose how your future will look - ובחרת בחיים!”
Obormottel offered a following parable:
The River
When a river meets a dam, its slow and calm flow is interrupted and maybe even stopped. Nevertheless, should the river persevere and break through, it finds new strengths, of the kind that it was not aware of before. Moreover, the very obstacle, once broken, becomes an integral part of the river’s newfound power, by joining in the river’s flow and adding its weight to it. This is what we mean when we say min hameitzar korosi ko – from the narrowness, from constraints, I reach out to Yud-Hei, the transcendental level of Godliness.
Would you rather be a slow and calm river? Never knowing what your real strengths are, what you are capable of? Never reaching your potential?
Or, would you rather embrace the struggle and be open and curious about what awaits on the other side of the dam, what stones you can turn, what force you contain within your depths?