A few weeks ago, I almost stopped writing my weekly blogs.
Not because I was too busy.
Not because I had nothing to say.
(I always have what to say—even when I don’t. It’s a talent, really.)
And not because no one is reading them. You are reading this, I think.
It was more that I just wasn’t feeling it.
I felt off.
Drained.
Stuck.
I had the kind of feeling where everything felt a bit heavier than usual, and I started wondering, What am I even doing right now?
I was showing up for everyone else—but inside, I wasn’t sure I had anything left to give. I didn’t feel like I had anything meaningful or inspiring to offer that week. That week I had written about hope and the irony of writing a message about hope when I wasn’t exactly swimming in it myself… wasn’t lost on me.
I even told my sisters, “Maybe it’s time to take a break. Maybe I should just stop writing for now.”
But I posted the article anyway.
Sometimes, you do things without really knowing why—because, without realizing it, that’s exactly what you were meant to do.
Hashem knows what you need, even when you don’t.
I figured I’d post it, move on with my day, and hope no one noticed I was running on low battery.
And then the responses started coming in.
Not the polite “great post” kind. I’m talking heartfelt, emotional, touching responses.
People saying they were in tears. That it came at exactly the right time. That it felt like I was speaking straight to them.
The words I almost didn’t share were landing exactly where they were needed. For others—and for me.
Hashem knew what they needed to hear.
And Hashem knew what I needed to hear in return.
I didn’t realize how much I needed that feedback until it came pouring in. It gave me the push to keep going. That was the chizuk I needed that day. Just like the hope article was the chizuk others needed.
Funny how that works. You think you’re the one giving, and Hashem is quietly giving you something back at the same time. (Classic Hashem move.)
Hashem knows what we need.
Not just in the “big life decisions” way, but in the small, in-between moments too.
The random comment that lifts your mood. The person who texts out of nowhere. The shidduch suggestion that comes just when you were about to delete every shadchan’s number and throw your phone in the nearest body of water.
It’s all from Him.
Even when we’re tired. Even when we’re unsure. Even when we’re this close to saying, “You know what, I’m out.”
Hashem’s still in it.
He doesn’t take breaks. He doesn’t miss things. He doesn’t need reminders.
He’s quietly lining things up—even when we’re mentally checking out.
And if you’ve been dating for more than five minutes, you probably know the feeling.
You go out with someone and… it’s just a no.
No connection, no chemistry, no idea what your mutual references were supposed to be.
You come home like, Great. That’s two hours and $9.99 on an iced coffee I didn’t even enjoy.
Or the harder one:
You go out with someone you actually like. You feel a little spark. You let yourself imagine…
And then—poof. They say no. And you’re left sitting there with a pit in your stomach and way too much leftover emotional energy.
You start asking:
Why did I have to meet them if it wasn’t going anywhere? Why bother? What’s the point of getting my hopes up only to be disappointed—again?
It’s exhausting. And honestly, it can make you feel a little ridiculous.
Like you’re getting dressed up and emotionally investing in a revolving door.
But here’s something that’s helped me hold it together—not in dating, but in those moments when I’m struggling to see the point of things. (I haven’t been on a date in over 25 years—unless you count wandering through Target at 10 p.m. with my husband while he inspects every item for a kosher symbol. Because what says romance more than comparing hechsherim on BBQ sauce.)
Nothing is for nothing.
Just because a date didn’t go anywhere doesn’t mean it was pointless.
Some dates help you figure out what you want. (Like basic conversation skills. Or the ability to ask a follow-up question that isn’t, “So… what else?”)
Some dates help you figure out what you really don’t.
Some dates bring clarity.
Some build character.
And some… well, at least they gave you a funny story to tell your friends. 😅
Hashem knows what is in our hearts, but that doesn’t mean we always get what we want.
It doesn’t mean every “no” is secretly a setup for a dramatic yes.
And it definitely doesn’t mean we’ll always understand why things happen.
But it does mean this isn’t random.
Hashem hears you.
He knows what you’ve been through.
He knows what you need—even if it’s not what you thought you needed.
Even if you think what you need is “just one normal date for once, please and thank you.”
I’m not here to give fluffy inspiration. Life is more complicated than that.
But if you’re feeling worn down, confused, or just really over it—you’re not alone.
You don’t have to pretend it’s all fine. You don’t have to feel inspired every second.
You just have to remind yourself: Hashem does know what you need.
Even when it doesn’t make sense.
Even when it’s frustrating.
Even when you’re not sure how much more you can take.
You keep going—because what’s the alternative?
You don’t have to love the process. You don’t have to feel good about it all the time.
It may not be what you ordered or how you wanted it delivered… but Hashem is right there with you.
And that knowledge alone should be enough to keep you going.
