I recently had an incredible conversation with my learning partner, Rachel. We discussed a “mantra” I shared with my children when their father passed away. Rachel related it to a recent visit she made to the Nova Festival site with Rabbi Dov Ber Cohen, one of the most profound Rebbeim I’ve had the privilege to learn from. Rabbi Dov Ber explained something powerful while standing at the site where so many lost their lives or were taken hostage. He spoke about how we can experience pain deeply, but we are not meant to suffer.
This reminded me of a book my son, Judah, recommended: Why Bad Things Don’t Happen to Good People by Rabbi Shaun Rosenblatt. Rabbi Rosenblatt wrote the book after his wife passed away from cancer. Although his loss was different from mine, both experiences were marked by profound pain. In the book, Rabbi Rosenblatt states, “All pain passes… It is the decisions we make, the way we choose to face that challenge and transcend that pain, which will remain with us for eternity. These decisions, and these decisions alone, are the purpose for our years in this world.” (32)
Pain and suffering are distinct. Pain is inevitable; suffering is a choice – a conscious chosen experience . Suffering stems from how we interpret pain and how it shapes our response. As Rabbi Rosenblatt notes, “Pain is often a wake-up call for us to rediscover our purpose in life.” (44)
Pain can be a conduit for growth and transformation. Through free will, we have the power to choose how we define and respond to pain. We can choose to suffer or seek goodness and light even in darkness—a mantra I’ve held close for many years.
This brings me back to what sparked my conversation with Rachel. I told her two stories that illustrate the mantra I shared with my kids after their father’s death: “Your father’s death doesn’t get to define you. You get to define you.”
For context, my husband of 20 years and the father of my four children died by suicide in 2018. One of the first things I told my kids was that their identity is not defined by this tragedy. Over the past seven years, they have embraced this mantra beautifully—living their lives based on their own definition. Although reminders are sometimes necessary.
One such instance was during Judah’s first year at Aish HaTorah in Eretz Yisroel. I remember sitting in my car before a morning walk, telling Judah something I feared he wasn’t ready to hear. I wanted him to know that while I understood his yearning for personal growth at yeshiva, it wasn’t his job to right his father’s wrongs. That was between his father and Hashem (G-d). His job was to build his own relationship with Hashem and forge his own Jewish path. Judah, wise beyond his years (sometimes 10 steps ahead of me), gently responded, “I hear you. I already know. I’ve spoken with my Rebbeim about this. I’m here on my own journey.” He was living the mantra by choosing his own definition of life rather than being defined by his father’s actions.
Another moment came about a year and a half later when I took Aviva to her Engelstad Scholar Program interview. When I picked her up, she was aglow. She excitedly shared that one of the interview questions was regarding a defining life experience. Aviva eloquently explained that while her father’s death didn’t define her negatively, it did shape her in a positive way. She is deeply passionate about helping others because of the pain she experienced. Her ability to transform pain into purpose left me in awe.
In life, pain is inevitable—its something we all encounter. The real challenge lies in seeing beyond the pain to find deeper meaning and alleviate suffering. Growth and connection with Hashem helps us illuminate the darkness and find purpose.
May we all merit the strength to face pain without suffering, to see the light beyond the darkness, and to transform pain into positive change.
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