Between Breath and Eternity
A Reflection on Emunah, Inner Awakening, and Returning to HaShem
What would you do if, in a single fleeting moment, you found yourself suspended between life and death—when everything becomes distant, intangible, and out of focus? In that fragile space, one encounters a depth of contemplation filled with uncertainty and פחד (pachad — fear), the most ancient fear known to humanity: the fear of the unknown.
In such moments, most people ask: What will happen to me? What will become of my family? There is no escape from reflection. The soul is drawn inward, compelled to review a life in an instant.
And then comes the question:
What do you choose?
To plead before HaShem—or to resign yourself to what feels inevitable?
Standing Before HaShem
In my own moment, I chose to plead.
I stood before הַשֵּׁם (HaShem — “The Name,” referring to G-d with reverence) and presented my case. I spoke from the depths of my being, expressing why I needed to remain in this world. And in His infinite compassion, רַחֲמִים (rachamim— mercy), He granted me life.
But something within me shifted forever.
I made a silent promise: if I were given more time, I would dedicate every breath to עֲבוֹדַת הַשֵּׁם (Avodat HaShem — service of G-d). I would live with gratitude, awareness, and purpose. I would carry a message to others—that it is never too late to return.
Deep within, I knew my journey was not complete. I needed to remain—not only for myself, but to continue being a mother to my children, especially my newborn son at that time.
What Truly Matters
In that suspended state, something became strikingly clear.
I did not think of possessions—no home, no car, no material comforts. Those things dissolved into irrelevance.
What remained was אהבה (ahavah — love):
love for my children,
love for my husband,
love for the souls entrusted to me.
The Sephardic sages teach that in moments of truth, the נְשָׁמָה (neshamah — soul) recognizes what is eternal.
As Rabbi Ovadia Yosef often emphasized in his teachings, a person’s true wealth is not material accumulation, but their connection to Torah, family, and mitzvot.
The Courtroom of the Soul
I remember feeling as though I was standing in a courtroom—silent, waiting.
A דין (din — judgment) was unfolding, yet I could not hear the deliberation. I stood in the center, awaiting a verdict I could not control.
This imagery is deeply rooted in our tradition. The great Sephardic authority, the Ben Ish Chai, writes that a person should live with awareness that they are always standing before the Divine Presence, as it says:
שִׁוִּיתִי ה׳ לְנֶגְדִּי תָמִיד
Shiviti Hashem l’negdi tamid — “I have placed HaShem before me תמיד (tamid — always)” (Tehillim 16:8).
That moment brought this verse to life in the most real way possible.
Changing the Lens
After that experience, I understood something fundamental:
The lens through which we view the world shapes everything—our inner life and our external reality.
I made a conscious decision to journey inward and change that lens. It was not easy. In truth, it was frightening.
Yet, as my young son once said with simple wisdom:
“It’s okay to be scared. You can be scared and brave at the same time.”
This reflects the teaching of אֱמוּנָה (emunah — faith): not the absence of fear, but the courage to move forward despite it.
Returning to the Inner Light
I came to realize that I needed to treat myself with the same patience and compassion I offer others.
Human beings often listen to external voices—many of them critical or negative—while ignoring the inner voice, the divine spark within.
Our sages teach that every person carries a חלק אלוקה ממעל (chelek Eloka mima’al — a portion of the Divine Above).
Rabbi Yosef Hayyim explains that the neshamah is inherently pure, but life’s experiences create layers that conceal its light.
Our task is not to become something new—but to uncover what is already within.
Healing Through Emunah and Bitachon
The path of healing begins when we shift our focus.
Instead of concentrating on what we lack, we begin to recognize the vast inner עולם (olam — world) within us—rooted in a Divine source that is infinite and complete.
We also learn to redefine the concept of limitation.
What we once viewed negatively can be understood as protection—a form of גבולות (gevulot — boundaries). Healthy boundaries preserve the soul. Without them, striving endlessly can become harmful rather than uplifting.
The Sephardic tradition places great emphasis on balance. As taught in the golden path of our sages, growth must be sustainable, compassionate, and אמת (emet — truthful).
Walking Through Pain with Purpose
To move forward within the light of HaShem is to make peace with the process.
There will be pain. There will be moments of confusion.
But through אֱמוּנָה (emunah — faith) and בִּטָּחוֹן (bitachon — trust in G-d), we gain the strength to walk forward.
Every challenge carries a lesson. Every experience holds wisdom meant to be shared.
This idea is echoed by Rabbi Moshe Cordovero, who teaches that a person refines themselves not only for their own sake, but to illuminate the path for others.
In this way, part of our purpose is fulfilled: to help another soul begin their journey back.
Oneness and the Shema
We are never alone.
We are always connected to HaShem, filled with קדושה (kedushah — holiness), even when we feel distant.
The world may create the illusion of separation, but our tradition firmly rejects it.
As we declare daily:
שְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵל ה׳ אֱלֹהֵינוּ ה׳ אֶחָד
Shema Yisrael, HaShem Eloheinu, HaShem Echad
“Hear, O Israel, HaShem is our G-d, HaShem is One.”
This is not only a statement of belief—it is a statement of connection.
Rabbi Shalom Sharabi taught that this unity is constant and unbreakable. We are תמיד (tamid — always) within Him.
Seeing Others with Compassion
If we can change our lens inwardly, we can also transform how we see others.
We never truly know what lies behind another person’s smile. Each individual carries a unique story, often filled with hidden struggles.
A simple question—“How are you?”—can shift someone from despair to hope.
One act of חסד (chesed — kindness) can create ripples far beyond what we can see.
The Power of Gentle Words
I will never forget the words of the rabbi who married my husband and me. His words caused a ripple effect in my world.
On a day filled with joy—but also nervousness—he looked at me with kindness and said:
“You are going to be okay. It is okay.”
Those words carried calm, reassurance, and presence. One act of kindness changed the world of a young woman, and the people she would meet.
Do we not all need to hear this?
Do we not all long for understanding and compassion?
A Call to Inner Work
Yes—we do.
And so, the work begins within.
When we refine our inner world, our outer world begins to transform.
When we see through the lens of emunah, compassion, and truth, we begin to experience life differently—not as something happening to us, but as a journey guiding us back to HaShem.
We are never alone.
We are never abandoned.
We are always walking with Him.
And perhaps the greatest healing of all…
is remembering that we always have been.