There's an unspoken tension in the air, a problem that’s probably gnawed at your heart.
Whether you're educating Hashem’s children.
Bringing them back to Torah. Helping Klal Yisroel in their time of need - money, or rather the lack thereof, consistently serves as the barrier between vision and reality.
You've crunched the numbers. You've lost sleep over them.
More funds would simply mean more impact. The arithmetic is simple; the execution is anything but.
Why is it so difficult to raise money for your holy mission? Doesn't the Almighty want us to succeed?
Rav Noach Weinberg ztl used to say "If a father had a rope that you needed to save his drowning child, would he not give it to you?"
The Almighty, the Father of us all, holds the rope, controls all resources. So why does it seem like He's not tossing it our way?
And therein lies the revelation—a question that's not a question at all.
Why does the Almighty need us to be the rope-bearers, the fundraisers, the visionaries? Couldn't He enact all our holy missions in an instant?
Indeed, He could. Yet, He chooses not to. He does this to give us the zechus, the merit of striving, the gift of mesirus nefesh—our whole-hearted self-sacrifice.
You, as a leader in Klal Yisroel, are handpicked for this challenge.
The Almighty doesn't want the press of a button; He desires your sweat, your mesirus nefesh, especially when it comes to fundraising, the most grueling part of your role.
It's uncomfortable. It's agonizing. But it's your role. And in that discomfort lies your greatness, your gadlus.
So, embrace it. Lean into your inherent greatness.
Your mesirus nefesh not just elevates the funds you raise, but infuses them with brocha. It’s this self-sacrifice that turns every penny into a powerful force, capable of immense change.
In the nascent days of the State of Israel, the Brisker Rav confronted a crisis at a gathering with the board of Peilim Yad L'achim.
Facing the terrible issue of religious Yeminite children being taken into secular kibbutzim, an air of desperation pervaded the room.
One board member voiced the collective yearning: "If only we had a million dollars, we could save all these children."
With a profound gravitas, the Brisker Rav rose, his hand striking the table with a resounding thud that silenced the room.
"Even if we had 10 million dollars at our disposal, it wouldn't make an iota of difference," he declared.
"However, armed with just a sliver of mesirus nefesh—self-sacrifice—you possess the power to change the world."
Forget the calculations.
Shun the self-doubt.
Your role is to act on your mesirus nefesh. To truly invest yourself in your holy mission. To face and overcome every challenge that stands between you and your service to Klal Yisroel.
(This piece was adapted from a devar Torah of Rav Hillel Weinberg, shlita.)
In the year ahead, may you invest the right measure of mesirus nefesh into your God-given mission and infuse much brocha into your holy work in 5784.
K'siva v'chasima tova.