Hashem Pays the Bills

This year, I had the incredible privilege of marrying off my son. The wedding took place right after Purim — a time that, for me, is always a whirlwind.

All year long, I work as a programmer to help support my family. But before Purim, I shift into high gear running shalach-manos.com, my seasonal business that keeps me very busy.

With the wedding approaching, I worked like crazy — juggling both the business and all the preparations — right up until the day before the chasuna, when my mother arrived from abroad. I finally forced myself to stop.

I remembered how I had felt after marrying off my daughter two years earlier — emotionally drained, completely wiped out. And now, with Pesach coming right on the heels of the wedding, I made a decision: I was going to take off from work until after Pesach.

As an independent contractor, that wasn’t a small decision. If I don’t work, I don’t get paid. But I knew I needed the break.

Of course, a few days later, the doubts started creeping in.
Maybe I should take on a project… maybe just a little work… what was I thinking? We just made a wedding! How are we going to manage?

I started fighting with myself — caught between what I felt I needed and the fear of how we’d make it through financially.

And then I got a phone call from a Rebbetzin I’m close with — someone who couldn’t make it to the wedding but called to check in. I shared with her that I wasn’t working right now and that, honestly, I felt guilty about it.

I’ll never forget her response. She said, “Don’t feel guilty for taking care of yourself. If you can’t work right now, you have to know that Hashem will find another way to send you what you need.”

The very next day, my husband checked our bank account — and was stunned.

A deposit had come in, almost exactly equal to a full month’s salary.

We looked into it and discovered it was from Bituach Leumi — a refund for an overpayment I had made two years earlier.

It could have come at any time.

If it had arrived before the wedding, I probably would have thought, Oh, this is to help cover the wedding expenses.
But it didn’t.

It came after the wedding.
After I had made the choice to take a break.
After I had chosen to trust.

And I knew — this was Hashem’s way of sending me a message:
“I’m taking care of you. You’re allowed to rest. You’re allowed to take the time you need. Don’t worry.”

Because when we make space for ourselves — when we allow ourselves to breathe and trust in Him — Hashem finds ways to send us exactly what we need, exactly when we need it.

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What the Sages Teach About This Kind of Hope

If we have been hoping and the yeshuah has not yet come — we should continue hoping! The Navi in Hoshea (12:7) tells us, “וְקַוֵּה אֶל אֱלֹקיךָ תָמִיד”“Hope to your G-d always.” Likewise, in Tehillim (25:5), David HaMelech declares, “אוֹתְךָ קִוִּיתִי כָּל הַיּוֹם”“I have hoped to You all day.”

Rabbeinu Yonah explains that the tzaddikim understand the immense reward and spiritual benefit gained from hoping in Hashem, so they are not troubled when their salvation takes time. Instead, “They rejoice at all times that they have been able to set their hope upon G-d, to place their expectation in His kindness. The longer their hope continues and is delayed, the more they delight in the service they perform for G-d through hope and trust.”

Every moment spent hoping draws us closer to Hashem. That closeness itself may be the very purpose for which the challenge was given. Each second of genuine hope brings immense reward, awakens Hashem’s middah of chesed, and channels more blessing into our lives.

We never know how much hope is needed to bring the yeshuah. Often, just one more moment of sincere hope could be the tipping point — which is exactly why the yetzer hara works so hard to make us give up. It knows the power of hope and how quickly it can change everything. The longer we keep hoping, the greater the flow of bracha and compassion we invite from Hashem.