There is an old Dilbert strip where the pointy haired manager notes in a group meeting that a full 40% of sick time off is occurring on Mondays and Fridays and he wants people to stop using their sick time to get three day weekends. The joke, of course, is that assuming that people get sick on random days of the work week and given there are five days in work week, then one fifth would occur on any given day and 2/5, aka 40%, is the number you would expect.)
A lot of השגחה פרטית/Divine Providence stories, unfortunately, sound a lot like that Dilbert. "Oh my gosh... I never carry change and as I was dropping the kinderlach off at school, little Shloimy said he need a quarter for the pushka. I was about to say that I didn't have any change... but then I looked down in the cup holder and there were three quarters! Just enough for each of my yiddishe kinder for the puske. And the only reason my coffee cup was not covering them is because that morning I had a tickle in my throat and was sipping my coffee! AMAZING hashgacha!!"
Of course is certainly is השגחה פרטית/Divine Providence, but not the kind of story that inspires thinking adults. But should it?
I recently went kayaking with some of my grandchildren in Georgia. We got to this little backwoods place -- literally a shack with only three walls. We rented the kayaks and he graciously gave me a strap to keep my glasses from falling into the water in case I did (and I did, and they didn't). He saw me sort of unenthusiastically putting attaching them to the end of the ear-pieces. "Oh... I slide them way up to the front." Not wanting to argue (I've seen "Deliverance"), I moved them... and that's when I saw the screw for one ear piece nearly all the way out! I tried to fix it, but hut worker saw my predicament and said, "Hey... I think I have a screwdriver for that!" He did, and he fixed it.
Ok... had I not taken his advice about placement, I would not have seen the screw coming out. And he just happened to have the right screwdriver. Come on... that's pretty cool, no?
That Sunday was time to leave; early, b'ezras HaShem, as we had we were looking at a 12 hour (including stops) drive. There was one way out, down a 3/4 mile gravel road. I turned onto that road to find a tree had fallen across the road from the storm the previous afternoon. No way out; Sunday in Georgia; Airbnb and no neighbors with a chain saw. What happened to the השגחה פרטית!?
Correct... that is, of course, also השגחה פרטית. David HaMelech say, (T'hillim 91:3):
לְהַגִּיד בַּבֹּקֶר חַסְדֶּךָ; וֶאֱמוּנָתְךָ, בַּלֵּילוֹת/To declare Your kindness in the morning, and Your faithfulness in the nights
The word בֹּקֶר/morning actually comes from the verb לבקר, which means to critically analyze. David HaMelech (among other things) is telling us that we need to take those moments of clear recognition that HaShem is running the world in all its details and fix that idea in our psyche. Then, when we have times of לֵּילוֹת/nights, darkness and confusion, we must use our אמונה/faith and trust to remind ourselves that HaShem is still running the world in all of its details. The more often we do that, the more we deepen and make second nature that אמונה. So my story with the glasses really stands out. But the carpool story is also a good reminder. It keeps us going, like a little sticky note that says, "I love you."
For a child, everything the parent does is right. Usually it is wonderful, sometimes painful; but always with love and trust. All through slichos we remind ourselves that we are HaShem's children. That means we can trust Him to always do what is best for us. Whether it is saving me from having to scurry around during vacation to get my glasses replaced, or delaying my departure so I don't get home till nearly midnight. Same HaShem, each and every moment crafted for my benefit.
I'd like to end with one more השגחה פרטית story. I have a lot of trouble keeping chavrusos. You are welcome to speculate as to why. In any case, recently a young man with whom I have been davening for year and for whom I have tremendous respect asked me if I had any time to learn on Sunday morning. I answered that I did and asked what he wanted to learn. He mentioned a couple of ideas, I said I had one of the s'farmin as I had learned it once a few years ago and would like to review it. That Sunday morning, as we sat down to learn, I asked if something had changed that had opened this time up for use to learn. Indeed, he had just dropped off his youngest son, who was this year now going to school on Sundays. He concluded with, "This is the first time since May, 2009 that I've had Sunday morning free." I then opened my sefer and found an old (smallest version) vasikin calendar that I had used for a bookmark from the last time I had learned the sefer. I unfolded it: May, 2009.
We learned with particular intensity that morning; after all, the Rebbi was watching... and we felt it.
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