You know that feeling when you’re out of juice, with nothing left in the tank and you’re running on fumes? When try as you might, your mind and heart just don’t seem to be on the same page – maybe not even be in the same book?

Well, that’s how I’ve been feeling since Yom Kippur. I started to feel a bit “blah” when I found out that I would be davening the Yom Kippur tefilos outside, in a parking lot…… I know, tell me about it. And, as if I didn’t feel out of place enough, it was a Sefardi minyan so not only didn’t I know the tunes, I also didn’t know where they were up to half the time! So there I was, uncomfortably warm, lost and hungry on the biggest day of the year. In other words, it wasn’t my most uplifting Yom Kippur’s of all time.

Don’t worry, I already hear your thoughts. And ok, so you’re right, this is nothing to complain about. There are bigger problems out there, I know. But it’s easier to complain than to accept. To accept means to give over control and to admit that Hashem is in charge – oh, and by the way, knows what He’s doing. That can be difficult on the best of days, all the more so when you’ve been standing in the sun for a few hours, layered in a tallis and kittel, trying to find the next song you’ve never heard of in a 700 page book…

This brings me to today’s inspiration. I know very well that complaining, even complaining in my heart, is neither productive, nor is it conducive to improving the situation. “Doesn’t Hashem hear enough complaining anyway?,” I thought out loud to no one in particular. Then I walked to the fridge to try to find something to cheer me up in an immediate, fleeting kind of way. Instead, what I found there was the jolt I was looking for. There, a magnet, staring me right in the face told me exactly what I needed to hear:

”Don’t tell God how great your problems are; tell your problems how great God is.”

When Iyov (Job) was faced with tremendous challenges and hardships, his response was famously righteous and faithful. Nothing the Satan did to provoke Iyov to sin or to curse Hashem worked, and in the process, showed us all (among other lessons), what little we have to complain about. Hashem is greater than our biggest problems, and when we contemplate that for a just moment, you’re not left with a lot of room for grumbling.

I have received many requests from the members of this group. {Thank you, by the way, for all the great suggestions and feedback – Love all of it!} One of those suggestions was a song called A Moment of Meditation from the Amudai Shaish Orchestra – Kol Sason V’kol Simcha album back in 1980.

The song – otherwise known as Arukah – was composed by the legendary composer, arranger and musician extraordinaire Rabbi Yisochor (Suki) Berry – the “Suki” of “Suki & Ding” fame. Not only did he compose the song, but R’ Suki also conducted, arranged, and played some of the instruments for the track as well! Berry’s inborn ability has been on display for our listening pleasure for close to five decades and continues to influence Jewsic’s finest sound to this day.

This particular track also featured another big name, albeit before he became of the household variety. Soloist Avraham Shabsi HaKohen Friedman is now known as Avraham Fried but in a way, not much else has changed. A star from the start, “Avremel” quickly rose to superstardom following the release of his first record “No Jew Will Be Left Behind” in 1981. This recording (recorded in R’ Eli Teitelbaum’s famous basement studio) was the official launch of his adult singing career – a career that just marked its 40th year anniversary!

[In a must-read feature in Mishpacha Magazine’s colossal Succos Edition, R’ Yisroel Besser gives us a warm, personal and in-depth picture of who and why Fried is who he is, and how he’s done it for so long. #WorthTheRead]

…And to think, it all started with a moment of meditation.

Lyrics:
אֲרֻכָּה, מֵאֶרֶץ מִדָּהּ
וּרְחָבָה, מִנִּי יָם

אִם יַחֲלֹף וְיַסְגִּיר
וְיַקְהִיל וּמִי יְשִׁיבֶנּוּ
אִם יַחֲלֹף וְיַסְגִּיר
וְיַקְהִיל וּמִי יְשִׁיבֶנּוּ
(איוב פרק י”א: ט-י)