A New Beginning: Shemini, Iyar, and the Key Inside
Parshas Shemini begins with simple, powerful words:
"וַיְהִי בַּיּוֹם הַשְּׁמִינִי" — "And it was on the eighth day."
For seven days, the Mishkan had been prepared, practiced, built — but the Shechina, the Divine presence, hadn’t yet fully revealed itself.
It was on the eighth day — beyond the natural order (לְמַעְלָה מִן הַטֶּבַע) — that something shifted.
The presence of Hashem filled the space they had worked so hard to create.
Sometimes we prepare, we build, we try — but the real opening doesn’t come by force.
It comes through patience, trust, and showing up — leaving space for Hashem to fill in what we cannot.
Now, as we bless חֹדֶשׁ אִייָר, we step into a season of quiet healing.
אִייָר — the month of "אֲנִי ה' רֹפְאֶךָ" — "I am Hashem your Healer."
And for me, it’s even more personal — אִייָר is my birthday month.
A reminder that healing, growth, and renewal aren’t distant ideas — they are stitched into the fabric of who we are.
This Shabbos holds another hidden light — the minhag of baking Shlissel Challah — a regular challah, with a key tucked inside.
We bake and we pray, asking Hashem to open the gates before us:
gates of blessing, gates of healing, gates of livelihood, gates of the heart.
And just like the key is hidden in the dough, the blessing often rises slowly, quietly, from within.
"וַיְהִי בַּיּוֹם הַשְּׁמִינִי" — "And it was on the eighth day."
For seven days, the Mishkan had been prepared, practiced, built — but the Shechina, the Divine presence, hadn’t yet fully revealed itself.
It was on the eighth day — beyond the natural order (לְמַעְלָה מִן הַטֶּבַע) — that something shifted.
The presence of Hashem filled the space they had worked so hard to create.
Sometimes we prepare, we build, we try — but the real opening doesn’t come by force.
It comes through patience, trust, and showing up — leaving space for Hashem to fill in what we cannot.
Now, as we bless חֹדֶשׁ אִייָר, we step into a season of quiet healing.
אִייָר — the month of "אֲנִי ה' רֹפְאֶךָ" — "I am Hashem your Healer."
And for me, it’s even more personal — אִייָר is my birthday month.
A reminder that healing, growth, and renewal aren’t distant ideas — they are stitched into the fabric of who we are.
This Shabbos holds another hidden light — the minhag of baking Shlissel Challah — a regular challah, with a key tucked inside.
We bake and we pray, asking Hashem to open the gates before us:
gates of blessing, gates of healing, gates of livelihood, gates of the heart.
And just like the key is hidden in the dough, the blessing often rises slowly, quietly, from within.
Like sourdough — where nothing looks different at first, but inside, something alive is awakening, something strong is building.
The rise isn’t instant. It’s patient. It’s steady.
And when the time is right, it transforms into something nourishing and whole.
The key isn’t only hidden in the dough.
It’s hidden inside us.
Planted there by Hashem, waiting for the moment we soften enough to find it,
strong enough to turn it,
ready enough to walk through.
The baking, the blessing, the waiting — they shape not just the dough, but they shape us.
As we move into אִייָר, and I step into another year of life,
I am reminded:
The gates we long to open are already within reach.
The key has been with us all along.
And so we count —
just as we count each night of Sefiras Haomer,
one day at a time, one step of trust at a time,
letting the blessing rise, quietly, in its own time.
A new day.
A new month.
A new beginning.
May Hashem bless us to find the keys He placed inside us,
to trust the quiet work rising within us,
to open the gates He's been waiting for us to walk through,
and to become vessels for blessing — slowly, patiently, like dough rising in its perfect time.
-
Good Shabbos,
Berke Chein
The rise isn’t instant. It’s patient. It’s steady.
And when the time is right, it transforms into something nourishing and whole.
The key isn’t only hidden in the dough.
It’s hidden inside us.
Planted there by Hashem, waiting for the moment we soften enough to find it,
strong enough to turn it,
ready enough to walk through.
The baking, the blessing, the waiting — they shape not just the dough, but they shape us.
As we move into אִייָר, and I step into another year of life,
I am reminded:
The gates we long to open are already within reach.
The key has been with us all along.
And so we count —
just as we count each night of Sefiras Haomer,
one day at a time, one step of trust at a time,
letting the blessing rise, quietly, in its own time.
A new day.
A new month.
A new beginning.
May Hashem bless us to find the keys He placed inside us,
to trust the quiet work rising within us,
to open the gates He's been waiting for us to walk through,
and to become vessels for blessing — slowly, patiently, like dough rising in its perfect time.
-
Good Shabbos,
Berke Chein
