Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Rabbi Monni Weisberger of Blessed Memory

This is the most painful "essay"  I have ever published on this blog.   It is a Hesped (Eulogy) that I delivered at the funeral of my very dear father in law, Rabbi Monni Weisberger ע"ה, this past Sunday.

It is followed by an achingly beautiful tribute written by my dear daughter Diti on this occasion.  This is then followed by the very heartfelt and well-received words that my dear son Shimshon said at the funeral


     As a Rabbi, I have had the dubious honor of writing and delivering many hespedim. People I knew well, people I knew not so well; people I loved dearly, people I had a more distant relationship with…I had to find the right words to say to honor them and the loved ones they left behind at such a tragic time. It was always a difficult task, but I felt Hashem helping me to put the right words in my unworthy mouth.

     But this is different. . . and so much harder.  I feel at such a loss to find a way to write a fitting tribute to the man I loved more than any other man in the whole world, and who I know loved me deeply and totally. . . Words that could somehow capture the essence of a man who was so multi-faceted: kind, generous, wise, funny, deep, gregarious, knowledgeable, eccentric, bold, unselfish, tolerant yet impatient; opinionated yet accepting of others; an amazing Talmid Chochom (Torah Scholar) whose greatest love of all was learning and living Torah at a very high level of amkus (depth), and  yet who could relate to the simplest of people with his sophistication and charm; a tremendous masmid (diligent scholar) who made time for everyone who needed him and to enjoy life to the fullest; a master storyteller who would hold old and young spellbound for hours with mesmerizing and wonderful recountings of episodes in his amazing life; outspoken and ready to stand for principle while simultaneously deeply modest and self-effacing, never taking credit for himself and always careful to never unnecessarily cause anyone bother or delay; outwardly often grumpy ,but always deep down affectionate. . . It is a huge task.  As Ema would always say, “they don’t make ‘em like that anymore”.  But most of all, to honor the most wonderful and devoted husband, father, grandfather, uncle, friend that I ever met  -- I have never witnessed a more loving and devoted father and grandfather --  a man who truly loved Lonni and me and our kids and all of his family and Klal Yisrael totally, warmly, unconditionally.  His loss is truly unfathomable and irreplaceable

חבל דאבדין ולא משתכחין
לא קם בישראל כמשה עוד
Woe to us to lose a person like whom cannot be found.

I had the privilege of accompanying my father in law z"l as he was honored to
recite a blessing at a wedding in his last public appearance, 3 days before his final injury

     Abba – and you were truly an Abba; a real second father to me – you are probably wanting me to get to the point and finish already.   I must indeed be brief, but
פטור בלא כלום אי אפשר

     As others mentioned, it is a special זכות (merit)  that after the long, long last six  months of  ייסורים (suffering)  he returned his holy Neshamah to his Creator at the very beginning of the Rosh Hashanah, after complete כפרה (Atonement)  for any possible shortcoming was surely achieved.  Surely, he was immediately judged in the book of Tzadikkim Gemurim (the Wholly Righteous) as he completed his task in this world.

     But actually, his passing on Rosh Hashana was fitting in another way as well.  There is an enigmatic verse in the Book of Nehemiah regarding Rosh Hashanah.

     Ezra and Nechemiah, without going into the story, were faced with a people that were terrified of Rosh Hashana, and the feelings of inadequacy that was profoundly felt caused the people to experience Rosh Hashanah, Judaism and life in general with great sadness and mourning.   Ezra said to them:
וַיֹּאמֶר לָהֶם לְכוּ אִכְלוּ מַשְׁמַנִּים וּשְׁתוּ מַמְתַקִּים וְשִׁלְחוּ מָנוֹת לְאֵין נָכוֹן לוֹ
 כי קָדוֹשׁ הַיּוֹם לַאֲדֹנֵינוּ וְאַל תֵּעָצֵבוּ כִּי חֶדְוַת ה' הִיא מָעֻזְּכֶם.

And he said to them, "Go, eat fat foods and drink sweet drinks and send portions to whoever has nothing prepared, for the day is holy to our Lord, and do not be sad, for the joy of the Lord is your strength. (Nehemiah 8:10)

Ralbag comments on the final words 
חֶדְוַת ה' הִיא מָעֻזְּכֶם:

ר''ל המבצר והחוזק שתתחזקו בו הוא שתשמחו במה שרצה ה' יתברך שתשמחו בו

    The stronghold and strength that you should depend on is the joy in engaging in what Hashem wants us to enjoy, 

knowing that we are doing His will

ואפשר שנאמר שהרצון בו שהוא ראוי שתשמחו במה ששמעתם מהתורה כדי שתתישרו לשמרה והוא המעוז והחוזק שתקחו מזה כי שמחתכ' בו תורה שרצונכם לנהג לפי התורה

We might say that it is fitting that you should rejoice in what you have learned from the Torah, so that you will be straight in keeping it and that is your greatest strength -- that your joy comes from Torah and your desire to conduct yourself by the Torah

     This directive, to treat Rosh Hashanah as a כי הוא נורא ואיום, deserving the greatest seriousness and awesome respect, while at the same time, being a time of enjoyment, pleasure, and loving interactions with others . . . is how Abba/Saba/Manoon lived his life, pursued his Avodas Hashem, and taught us by his amazing example.

     I want to express our appreciation for all the amazing caregivers who helped Anna during his long final illness. I want to give voice to the terrible pain of all the grandchildren and great-grandchildren who will never again feel the nurturing of the magic shoulder and hear his singing and humor to cheer them up and make them feel so valued and important.

     I cannot begin to express the pain felt by his loving children, each of whom is unique and different, but nurtured and encouraged by him to express their own special nature and individuality confident of his love.  The endless longing that Lonni and her siblings exuded at his bedside, hoping for the tiniest glimmer of hope that they could connect with him, just one more time, for just one brief moment was so heartbreaking to watch….and such a tribute to the incredible love that they felt so deeply.

     And אחרונה אחרונה I cannot even imagine how Ema תבדל לחיים טובים וארוכים feels today.  The many hours she spent sitting next to him, holding his hand, caressing his cheek, singing to him and begging him to respond…the pleasure she took when she felt a little pressure or squeeze of his hand, or a tear on his cheek when we sang zemiros for him…after 63 wonderful years together…it is so hard to imagine the depth of her pain

     We only hope, together, to draw strength from each other, and to look forward to the time we are reunited after תחיית המתים  (Reincarnation). Abba always said that when Nanny and Grampy passed he took tremendous solace in the concept of תחיית המתים . . . Is it not fitting that we just read about that yesterday in Haazinu, אני ממית ומחיה, G-d causes Death and grants Life (Devarim 32:39); one of the prime sources in the Torah for this concept!

     It is fitting, as well that we also read on Shabbos the beginning of וזאת הברכה, which contains the verse

'וַיָּמָת שָׁם מֹשֶׁה עֶבֶד ה
And Moshe, the servant of Hashem died there

 A passuk that would describe well this week’s events.

     Finally, Moshe Rabbeinu merited to die במיתת נשיקה  - (Death by the Kiss of G-d).  While you, Abba dearest, had a more difficult challenge at the end, you always signed off your letters to us נשיקות עד בלי די (Never enough kisses)

     We love you עד בלי די endlessly, never enough, always and forever.

     May his memory be a blessing and source of chizuk to us forever

בִּלַּע הַמָּוֶת לָנֶצַח וּמָחָה אֲדֹנָי ה' דִּמְעָה מֵעַל כָּל פָּנִים
 וְחֶרְפַּת עַמּוֹ יָסִיר מֵעַל כָּל הָאָרֶץ כִּי ה דִּבֵּר


My Superman
By Diti Oppenheimer

When I think of Superman, I think of someone who is:

Confident Strong Determined
Dignified Tough Cool

My Superman stands strong and tall in my mind. There is a fire burning in his eyes. Never wavering to what the winds may howl. Never losing his ground. Never looking down.

He has the confidence of a man who knows exactly what he's doing. He has wit that is razor sharp. He has the toughness of a man that doesn't let anything in the world deter him.

But my Superman is not aloof.   In addition to the above, he is

Caring Loving Adorable
Selfless Patient Huge-Hearted

My Superman is tough on the outside but a teddy bear on the inside. He cares so much about his loved ones and stands up for them. He loves them so deeply and shows it in so many ways. Somehow he makes each and every one of them feel special to him.

There are some supermen that are fiction, a yearning and fantasy of desperate people for a savior and hero.

My Superman is real. His strength is not made up of muscles but of willpower. His confidence is not from the praise of others but from an inner sense of self-worth and purpose. He doesn't wear a cape because real men don't wear capes.  

He has been my hero my entire life.

My Superman is my Saba.

To my precious Saba,

Saba I feel like I'm living in a daze, a horrible nightmare that is totally disconnected from reality. Because it can't be true. My superman is invincible. These kind of mortal things don't happen to him.

But, Saba, you will always remain in my mind as the invincible hero that you were. Only, Hashem decided it was time to take away your terrible pain because He wanted Superman back in the heavens.

Saba, I love you so much it's totally beyond words. I can't thank you enough for the treasure house full of precious memories and stories and a legacy that you have left for me to hold tight to for the rest of my life.

The memories. Oh, Saba, how many sweet memories I have with you. From Godiva chocolates to shnaps with my pinkie. From bonkos to my big nose poking you at night. From singing with you to dancing with you (on the women's side) at weddings. Holding our breath contests that you always won to sucking on our candies and making them sharp. From A Sukalah to wearing the Challah cover on your head.

Saba, growing up, you were literally my hero. I just admired you so much and always wanted to spend time with you.

I remember going to friends houses and seeing them treat their grandparents like old people that they unfortunately had to care for. I couldn't believe it. Because, Saba, you were never old. You were a giant in my eyes, someone who was always in control. And, Saba, you just made it so so easy to love you. Because your love for us knew no bounds.

Saba, I loved your stories. I could hear them again and again and never get bored. I would sit, wide-eyed and fascinated and watch in amazement as you would paint an animated, detailed, and colorful story for us that always left all of us wondering how one person could accomplish so much and live such a full life. From the opera story to the Marilyn Monroe story, that were so unbelievable. From the bananas story to the kasha in your pockets story that made us laugh so hard. From the “Moshe Moshe” story to the speeding in Arizona story that showed your razor sharp wit. From the Shepsel story to Kosher Pizza story which showed your ingenuity. The meatball story on the first day of Yeshiva showed us your commitment to Torah. And more -- getting locked in a building, the 3 dates in one day, courting Savta -- and so much more. No one could believe these stories if they hadn't heard it from you. Saba, you were a king. And I always felt so proud to call you my Saba.
And then, Saba, as I grew older, I got to know so much more about you and appreciate you on a much deeper level. Saba, I learned how much you valued Torah and how it was the center of your life. I learned how much of an anav you were -- doing so much yet never ever bragging about it. Never wanting to be מטריח anyone else -- even though we were always so happy to make you sugar-free cookies or give up our beds for you, you always felt so bad that we were doing that for you. I learned simchas hachaim from you -- how to really live each and every day to its fullest. I learned ahavas Yisrael from you -- how to love each and every person and to give them endless love and patience. I learned how to have beautiful shalom Bayis. I learned how to be mechanech children from you; how to allow everyone to express their individuality.
And Saba, I learned what pure, unadulterated and endless love is. Saba, I will never, ever forget that you came to my graduation. I know you hate these things and never wanted to go to them but you did it for me. Because you love me. I felt like I was your only granddaughter because that's how much you showed you loved me. I'll never forget how you and Savta took me out to dinner just to spend time with me. How you patiently listened to me and gave me advice. I always left you feeling heart warmed, feeling so enveloped in your love. I'll never forget those birthday songs I anticipated hearing from you the whole year. Oh, Saba, how I wish I could've heard that song instead of the heart-wrenching news I got this year on my birthday.
Saba, I can go on and on about you and the memories that have been filling my mind that will remain with me forever. I really can't imagine going on without you anymore. Saba, I so badly wanted you to be at my wedding. I wanted to dance with you and get a Bracha from you underneath my veil.  I feel like there's a gaping hole in my heart that no one but my Saba could ever fill.
Saba, I just want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart for being my Superman, for teaching me invaluable lessons that have made me into who I am, for loving me unconditionally, and for never ceasing to give to me. The fact that you have such a legacy of descendants that are all shomer Shabbos and amazing people is such a testament to the incredible person that you were. Thank you for truly being the best Saba in the world.
I guess the last thing I can say are the last precious words you ever said to me. "I love you so much and I am so proud of you."


"The Man"
A Tribute to My Grandfather

by Shimshon Oppenheimer

If I had two words to describe my grandfather they would be.

The MAN.

I say this on behalf of all of his descendants. Particularly my siblings who can't be here on this tragic day.

I knew No more honorable man, or honest man. He could give Honest Abe a run for his money.

If he owed you $2.37 cents he'd pay you EXACTLY $2.37Cents.  I remember he even returned a pair of socks he'd borrowed. (I don't know if he hand washed it, but it was clean.)

He was a symbol of strength, fire, and integrity. I  always always looked up to him as my role model, he taught me what it meant to be a proud Jew. I'll never forget the fire in his eyes when he spoke of the Nazis, WWII or Medinat Yisrael.. I'd be talking to him unsure of my future, and he would always be telling me to go to Machal.. -My cousin Ari took up the call to battle-  but Saba always inspired me to fight for the Jewish people, and still inspired me to this day, I still I hope one day he will see me from Above with a Beret on too...

He was more than just my hero and Godfather, he was a living example of a life to lead. Being a man of tremendous Torah knowledge and fear of G-d yiras shomayim (he could have been a Rosh Yeshiva..) as Rav Mendelovich would have wanted... but he liked to laugh and say he loved the gashmiyos in this world too  much... He enjoyed football, classical music, opera, schnapps, fast cars... all types of worlds things .... he showed You can be a man of G-d and enjoy the good life. There's no one like him.  Kind of old school Yeshivish if you will.

We would sit there captivated by his stories, even if we'd already heard it 10 times.
Stories flowed from him.... From 3 dates a day (I hoped to one day reach his madraiga), smuggling guns to Israel, to knocking out Nazi flight attendants... He was a boss through and through.

I often complained jokingly that he made my life seem so boring In retrospect. I never got to pass up a date with Marilyn Monroe, or (smuggle guns to Israel, get caught , get his guns back and continue to smuggle weapons to Israel) , or learn to fly planes (until Savta caught him)

I remember him noting when he turned 90 that he liked this world and He enjoyed it too much to leave just yet... I smiled and prayed G-d would agree with this sentiment.
The day I have feared in the darkest recesses of my mind has come. The day I no longer have my Saba around. I day would I never ever hoped would come, but knew deep down that it was the way of all man... 

As the Patriarch of the family he is simply irreplaceable and jointly responsible for our spiritual live and our physical lives as well (well at least those of us who share his DNA, )... We are all a testament to his greatness, his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren... All of his descendants shomer Shabbos, Torah and Mitzvos. Every single one.

A man truly like no other. Loved by all. From family to neighbors, mechanics, lawyers, coworkers , congregants, even “Berman."

Saba, you passed on from this world Lail Rosh Hashana, the heavenly courts pushed you to the head of the line, as it says Tzaddikim Gemurim and Reshaim Gemorim are judged first and you were stamped a Tzaddik Gamur, of that I have no doubt.

You were always my #1 fan and I could count on you to take my side whether it be my latest  hairstyle or Donald Trump. You almost always supported me and made me feel like you had my back, man to man. A special bond we shared... 

Saba, I can't bear to say goodbye. It's too painful to even think about. I find solace in knowing that this is not the end. That I will get to see you one day again and give you a  big ol' bear hug. And perhaps if I'm “Zocheh", to even get near your box-seat in shomayim, (if not at least wave from the bleachers)- though I hope for your sake Saba, they have football up in Shomayim- and maybe even some schnapps.

I must say, I am grateful to Hashem I missed my connecting flight to Seattle just so I could see you one more time... wish you a Shana Tova and hold your hand one last time... My only regret is that I didn't stay just one minute longer...

I will miss your stories.
Your power and charisma.
Your witty jokes.
Your guidance , support, and humor.
I will miss your loving smile.
Your full rich beautiful special  zeideh-like aura...

Most of all I will just miss your warm-loving presence and having you around.

Love you more than words can every say.

Your loving Grandson, 


Friday, September 8, 2017

Teshuva from the School of Hard Knocks

I’m sure hoping for a sweeter year this year.

Rosh Hashanah looms, and we struggle to make sense of the past year – the trials and tribulations, the insanity that has taken hold of our nation’s politics; the sicknesses, financial difficulties, pain and suffering that have afflicted so many; the ongoing disasters in Florida and Texas, the danger that is North Korea; the ugliness on display in Charlottesville – where does one begin in preparing for the Day of Judgment?

Personally, I am trying to look at the year I just experienced, and attempting to learn from it.   I write these lines to help myself focus, and hope that others might perhaps find some of this relevant to themselves as well.

We pray Zochreinu L’Chaim – for Life itself, but also that we might live in good health and that our bodies continue to seamlessly function – this gift for ourselves and our families we need to literally beg Hashem for and not take for granted.

I had a “rough year”.  Of course, compared to what so many others endured – including friends and family who have lost close relatives, or agonized with children with chronic and debilitating illnesses, physical or spiritual, or who have suffered financial calamity, or other suffering ר"ל – I have had a fantastic year, and should do nothing but get down on my knees and gratefully count my blessings.  Nevertheless, for me personally, this was a rougher year than usual, with some special challenges.

I resigned my position as Rabbi of the Young Israel of Forest Hills last summer, intending to make Aliyah within a few months.   But we nevertheless are still living in Brooklyn, due primarily to two occurrences that I did not anticipate last Rosh Hashana.

First, my dear father-in-law, Rabbi Monni Weisberger, had a tragic fall leaving him with a terrible injury from which he has not (so far) recovered.  (Please daven for Moshe ben Yehudis, amongst all Cholei Yisroel).

Second, I received a jarring diagnosis – I had contracted prostate cancer – the same illness which was the final undoing of my father ז"ל.

I won’t go into any details here, but dealing with the issue – the biopsies and MRIs, the agonizing over the decision regarding which unpleasant treatment to pursue, the scare of additional symptoms that suggested I might have more extensive cancer (thankfully not) and much else – took many months and lots of energy.  Baruch Hashem, I underwent a successful prostate removal surgery, and am well on the road to recovery.

But in many days of convalescing, I had some “Hirhurei Teshuva”, or spiritual thoughts to ponder:

    1. Gratitude to Hashem for watching over me – this could have been so much worse.

A cursory glance at Florida and Houston suffices to realize how fragile our lives are. This essay is not the place to speculate on faith issues (Emuna) in the wake of large natural disasters, which in any case can lead only to the conclusion that we are privy to no real answers in this world.

However, one thought offered by many of our Sages is that sometimes Hashem sends us overwhelming events to (a) humble us from our arrogance in thinking we are in control of the world and our lives, and (b) as a reminder that we ought not take our “normal” pleasant lives for granted.

Up until this time in my life, I was certainly aware of prostate cancer due to my father’s illness, but it seemed much removed from me. My prostate – that was just part of my plumbing that I knew little about, nor cared much for . . . I assumed that it was doing its job – whatever that is – and we had best leave each other alone.

I found out quickly, however, that my prostate was in fact something that deserved a lot of concern; left alone it would literally kill me, and not in a pleasant way.  Baruch Hashem, I have now been declared (with a 99% probability) cancer free.  Compared to so many who suffered so much from this frightful illness, I got a wonderful reprieve.

This was brought home even more deeply with the tragic passing of Assemblyman Michael Simanowitz ז"ל, son of my very dear friends יבדלו לחיים Shalom & Sheila  Simanowitz.   I don’t have the words to express the pain that I feel for them and the extended family on this tragic loss.   And it only redoubles my feeling of “There but for the Grace of G-d, go I”.

My takeaway for Rosh Hashanah is quite clear.  Serious illness is not something that only happens to other people; it might be a lot closer than one realizes.  In fact, none of the amazing systems in our bodies should be taken for granted.  That “strange” Asher Yatzar blessing that we say upon going to the bathroom is so sublime and real, expressing the vital lesson that we literally could not last for even one moment, but for the Grace of G-d who makes it all work seamlessly – until it doesn’t.  I learned how very fragile life is – what a lesson for Rosh Hashana!

We pray Zochreinu L’Chaim (Remeber us for Life) – for Life itself, but also that we might live in good health and that our bodies continue to seamlessly function – this gift for ourselves and our families we need to literally beg Hashem for and not take for granted.

We assume that we will be healthy, that rivers will not overflow, that the winds will not pummel us: Rosh Hashana is a time that we must realize how very dependent on Him we are for every moment

(English - May we forget this year what our doctors look like)

    2. Gratitude to the special people in life who cared for me
Laying in my hospital bed, too weak to lift my leg, unable to walk without enormous effort, I came to appreciate the wonderful people in my life who love and care for me and without whom I really could not go on.  Where would I be without the love and concern of my wonderful wife and children and sisters?  How amazing it is to hear the soothing voice of my mother and mother in law encouraging me!  How incredibly special to get chizuk from my Rebbe and Rebbitzen, Rav Michel & Faige Twerski שליט"א, who made me feel loved and worthy of recovery!   How fortunate I am to have the care of wonderful physicians and nurses who went above and beyond in advising me, helping me, and making sure that I got far better care than I deserved!

And, last and far from least, how encouraging and heartwarming it was to hear from my friends and extended family the sincere wishes that I recuperate and to know how many prayers and chapters of Tehillim were said on my behalf . . . how truly blessed I am!

Certainly, on Rosh Hashanah it is time to try to reciprocate, in the small way that I can, and to pour out my heart to Hashem for all of these wonderful people in wishing that they – and all of Klal Yisrael and good people everywhere – be inscribed for Life, for Health; that they should not have to face the very difficult challenges that, but for the Grace of G-d, can happen so easily.

Bringing me to:
    3. Resolving that I have been granted renewed Life for a greater purpose
It is critical to consider the importance of Bitachon – living in Trust of Hashem – as we are reminded constantly during this time of year.  The Haftarah of Parshat Shoftim (Yeshayahu chap 51) exhorts us to trust in Him, and Him alone.
אָנֹכִי אָנֹכִי הוּא מְנַחֶמְכֶם מִי אַתְּ וַתִּירְאִי מֵאֱנוֹשׁ יָמוּת  
 I, yea I am He Who consoles you; who are you that you fear man who will die?

וַתִּשְׁכַּח ה' עֹשֶׂךָ נוֹטֶה שָׁמַיִם וְיֹסֵד אָרֶץ וַתְּפַחֵד תָּמִיד כָּל הַיּוֹם  מִפְּנֵי חֲמַת הַמֵּצִיק . . . וְאַיֵּה חֲמַת הַמֵּצִיק
 And you forgot the Lord your Maker, Who spread out the heavens and founded the earth, and you fear constantly the whole day because of the wrath of the oppressor . . . Now where is the wrath of the oppressor? 

וְאָנֹכִי֙ ה' אֱלֹהֶ֔יךָ רֹגַ֣ע הַיָּ֔ם וַיֶּהֱמ֖וּ גַּלָּ֑יו ה' צְבָא֖וֹת שְׁמֽוֹ
  And I am Hashem your Lord who wrinkles the sea and makes its waves stir; the Lord of Hosts is His name

To paraphrase FDR, we ought to have

 “Nothing to Fear but Lack of Fear of G-d”.   

Dovid HaMelech in Psalm 27 (that we are now saying twice daily) asks:

לְדָוִד ה אוֹרִי וְיִשְׁעִי מִמִּי אִירָא ה'מָעוֹז חַיַּי מִמִּי אֶפְחָד
 “if Hashem is my Light and my stronghold,
from whom would I fear?

אִם תַּחֲנֶה עָלַי מַחֲנֶה לֹא יִירָא לִבִּי אִם תָּקוּם עָלַי מִלְחָמָה בְּזֹאת אֲנִי בוֹטֵחַ
 In Him and Him alone I place my trust

כִּי אָבִי וְאִמִּי עֲזָבוּנִי וַה' יַאַסְפֵנִי

When even my mother and father have been rendered powerless to help me, Hashem will gather me in . . . 

קַוֵּה אֶל ה' חֲזַק וְיַאֲמֵץ לִבֶּךָ וְקַוֵּה אֶל ה

Place your hope in Hashem, strengthen your heart and be courageous . . . place your hope in Hashem”.

The message is clear: a central tenet of Rosh Hashanah is for us to bolster our sense of Bitachon.  To know that wherever G-d places me is for the best, that He has plans for me; if I trust in Him and only Him, my life will have joy, contentment, meaning and purpose living in His plan.

I am not sure what life has yet in store for me.   We will hopefully be finally moving to Eretz Yisrael after Succos.   I do not know where and how life will lead us, but I am confident that this year helped me prepare for some yet-to-be-accomplished worthy things.  Certainly, on Rosh Hashana, when מעשה איש ופקודתו, the actions of Man and his mission are judged and determined, we must beseech Hashem for a life of not only physical health and well-being, but of meaning and purpose and accomplishment; knowing that:

הַשְׁלֵךְ עַל ה' יְהָבְךָ וְהוּא יְכַלְכְּלֶךָ לֹא יִתֵּן לְעוֹלָם מוֹט לַצַּדִּיק  
Cast your burden on Hashem, and He will bear you;
 He shall never allow a righteous man to falter
(Tehillim 55:23).

Our task is to get ready for His service; to do the best we can, and then get out of the driver’s seat and let Him drive the bus. 

Finally, I heard a beautiful insight from Rav Yaakov Glasser regarding the cloud on the mountain that could be seen on the way to the Akeida.  The Midrash relates that Avraham asked his companions, if they too saw the place that Hashem wants them to arrive at.   Yitzchak said yes, the others said no, and stayed behind.

 What did Avraham and Yitzchak actually see?   A cloud.   

The others saw the cloud as well, but they saw it as a gloomy impenetrable place to be avoided. Avraham and Yitzchak embraced the opportunity in the cloud, knowing that if  they entered there with confidence, Hashem would guide them to their ultimate goal. 

We are all at times faced by clouds, places which seem dark and gloomy.  We wonder why Hashem has placed them there; why He makes it difficult to see the way forward in His service, and so challenging to persevere though the obstacles that have been placed in our path.   But the lesson of the Akeida is that Hashem wants us to be willing to have Mesirut Nefesh (self-sacrifice), often in the form of proceeding to follow the quest for purpose in Life “no matter how hopeless, no matter how far”, and hope that the bright light of his Presence will make those clouds disperse, and eventually 

וְזָרְחָה לָכֶם יִרְאֵי שְׁמִי שֶׁמֶשׁ צְדָקָה וּמַרְפֵּא בִּכְנָפֶיהָ 
And the sun of mercy shall rise with healing in its wings  for you who fear My Name 

May we all merit to have a sweet and good year, filled with good health, purposeful meaning, and a contented sense of living in His presence.