Stay in the Fight

I cut deep.

I may have cut too deep.

Good.

I was nervous writing the previous essay, We Are All Living in Shushan.

But you should read it. 

It's real. 

Realer than real maybe.

Muscles do not grow unless you tear them first. 

I need to be able to say the truth even if it cuts. 

If I lie to you, you stay weak. 

If I lie to myself, I stay weak. 

The feast was real. 

The bowing was real. 

And they still are. 

But that is not where it ends.

You are not who you think you are. 

We are not civilians at a banquet.

We are soldiers in a war.

The Nesivos Shalom on Shovavim went hard on how to come back from a dark place. 

He did not lower the stakes for our generation. 

He did not say, “It’s ok, it’s normal.” 

He taught that the battle for Kedusha is real, with real consequences. 

But he also taught us that you are a soldier, not a statistic.

The Gemara speaks sharply about proximity to immorality. 

You are a Rasha just by going down the wrong street. 

We laugh because exposure numbed us. 

That numbness is galus

And galus whispers, "It's fine. It’s necessary. It’s survival. It's good for you…” 

That is exactly how Shushan sounded.

“It’s just a feast.”

"We need to go and show solidarity."

“It’s hishtadlus.”

The Beis HaLevi already taught that you are not the one who produces salvation.

When you start believing your own maneuvering saves you, you are already bowing.

So we bowed and let ourselves go and made our justifications. 

And now, my man, you have woken up, and perhaps you are a little ashamed.

But shame is a liar that pretends to be humility.

The Nesivos Shalom does not teach despair. 

He teaches reframing.

You are not a failure wandering through a broken world.

You are a wounded warrior still holding your weapons.

Picture the scene.

The battlefield is chaos. 

Communications are down. 

You’re bleeding. 

The platoon is scattered. 

The enemy is in the trees.

You’ve been hit in places you didn’t even know were vulnerable. 

You look down and see your own blood soaking into the dirt.

And you are still standing.

The Navi Yechezkel says,ואראך מתבוססת בדמייך ואמר לך בדמייך חיי

Hashem says, “I saw you wallowing in your blood, and I said to you, 'Through your blood you shall live.'"

Your spilt blood is not wasted.

The only wasted blood is the blood that quits.

Every fall.

Every time you bowed when you should have stood.

Every moment you gave in.

Every compromise.

Every time you felt lost in hester panim.

If you stay in the fight, the war continues. 

Remember, you are not the one holding the war together.

You are the one being held.

The blood spilt in what you may consider your failures glows and sparkles with a divine light.

The blood spilled in this forever war is the crown you wear. 

Wear it proudly.

In the place where Baalei Teshuva stand, the greatest tzadikim cannot. 

The bloody and bruised warrior can find light in a place the tzadik doesn't ever get to see. 

Esther walked into the palace, and Chazal in Megillah says the Shechinah left her. 

She felt abandoned. 

She cried, “Keili, Keili, lama azavtani.”

She did not feel close. 

Lost and abandoned. 

Did you think holiness is just a feeling? 

Good vibes?

It is a decision made in the dark.

She went anyway.

That is why Purim is greater than Matan Torah.

The Gemara in Shabbos teaches that at Har Sinai we were coerced, כפהכפה עליהם הר כגיגית. 

On Purim, קימו וקבלו we accepted willingly.

In revelation, obedience is easy; you really have no choice but to pick the greater good.

In silence, loyalty is everything.

That is Bitachon.

Bitachon is knowing He is here even if you lose.

Your fall was never outside His plan.

Bal yidach mimenu nidach. 

No Yid is cast away.

Not me. 

Not you

Not the one who bowed.

Not the one who ate.

Not the one wallowing in hester panim.

Not this generation drowning in exposure, distraction, broken leadership, and hiddenness.

Hashem is not shocked by your weakness. 

Why are you?

He knows what you are made of and why you do what you do.

Hester panim is not proof that Hashem left. 

It is the training ground where we learn to choose Him without the spectacle.

Esther demanded, לך כנוס את כל היהודים.

Gather everyone.

The Mordechais.

The Esthers.

The ashamed.

The numb.

Because redemption does not belong to the flawless.

It belongs to those who go anyway.

You do not carry the geulah on your own. 

You carry trust.

Redemption is His.

There is nothing else.

Not the feast.

Not the ring of the king and his signed decrees. 

Not the failure.

Not the darkness.

Only Him.

And we are warriors. 

However deep down that may seem.

We are the children of Dovid who ran toward Golias.

Of Shimshon who died for the honor of the Ribono shel Olam.

We are descendants of Mordechai who would not bend.

We carry their blood.

Even if it is mixed with dust and regret.

Especially then.

Purim was a gift given to the broken ones. 

To the ones who feel abandoned, lost, and alone. 

The hester is so deep. 

But if you stay in the fight, the turnabout, the salvation, will be that much higher. 

Brother, I bleed too. I fight too. 

I need this as much as you do.

Stop performing strength.

Start fighting for it.

One rep at a time.

Guard your eyes one hour longer.

Daven, when it feels empty.

Learn when your head is fog.

Refuse one bow today.

Then another tomorrow.

Even if your hands shake.

Even if your tefillah feels fake.

Even if yesterday you bowed.

Stay in the fight, brother. 

Sometimes that’s all we have. 

Stay in the fight soldier…

Stay in the fight…

Brother, stay with me here, and maybe together we can hold the line. 

Stay…