When it comes to air travel, we take for granted that all the essential details are already established. Most of us know when to be in the airport, which terminal to head to, what gate to look for, your departure city, and your final destination. These aren’t things you figure out as you go.
At the opening of this week’s perasha, Lekh Lekha, G-d commands Abram to leave his homeland and travel to a destination that G-d would reveal only later. This command in itself is difficult to accept. Setting out without an itinerary, taking his wife and household with him, Abram doesn’t hesitate and leaves immediately.
The pasuk (Beresheet 12:1) states: “Go forth from your country, and from your birthplace, and from your father’s house.” What is meant by all these additional phrases?
The Ramban explains that this was meant to make the test harder for Abram. It’s already difficult to leave your country; even harder to leave your birthplace; and hardest of all to leave your family and friends. Yet Abram went without hesitation and because of that, G-d rewarded him that much more.
We see a similar pattern in next week’s perasha, Vayera, when Abraham is commanded to bring his son Yishaq as a sacrifice. There too, the pasuk (Beresheet 22:2) doesn’t simply say “take Yishaq,” but “take your son, your only son, the one you love,” and only then mentions Yishaq, making it that much harder to accept. Yet again, there’s no hesitation. The very next morning, Abraham himself saddles his donkey, eager to fulfill G-d’s command.
We like having details. We want to know the plan, the schedule, and the outcome before we take the first step. We want our own “itinerary” from G-d: clear direction, no surprises. Sometimes, like Abraham, we’re given our own “Lekh Lekha moments”, where faith means walking forward even when we don’t see what’s ahead.
The real test isn’t how we handle difficulty when we understand why it’s happening. It’s whether we can still move, still believe, when we don’t. That’s the difference between saying we trust G-d and actually living it.
The Sefat Emet (Lech Lecha, 5631, 5632, 5656) states that a “person must always ascend from one level to another” and that “every trial remakes him an entirely new creation… a person must constantly renew his soul and draw from new spiritual sources.” Abraham’s journey wasn’t only physical, it was spiritual as well. The journey is measured not by distance, but by the degree to which one forsakes the natural and familiar. The Sefat Emet teaches that true growth comes only when we leave what’s familiar and comfortable. By stepping into uncertainty, we give G-d room to shape us into something greater.
Rabbi Sacks zt”l explains, in his commentary on Lech Lecha, Covenant & Conversation, aptly named “Four Dimensions of the Journey” (5779), that perhaps we can then understand more deeply as he quotes Rashi: G-d’s promise to Abraham was for his benefit. Leaving the familiar would lead to greater fulfillment and blessing, even if it required trust and courage to move forward into uncertainty. Rabbi Sacks explains “sometimes we have to give up our past in order to acquire a future.”
Every day brings its own crossroads, such as a career shift, relocation to a new city, or meeting someone who changes the course of your life. We think we’re driving, but it’s really G-d directing the path. Trust means saying, “G-d, I’ll keep walking, even when I can’t see what’s ahead, even when I don’t understand.”
When I finally stopped trying to control my outcome and said, “G-d, I trust You,” doors began to open in ways I never expected, every step of the way was prepared as if I had nothing to worry about and leading me exactly where I was meant to be. It’s not easy to trust, but when we choose to trust the King of the world, the One who sees the full picture even when we can’t, it becomes easier. Sometimes, the greatest journeys begin the moment we stop needing all the answers and start walking with emunah, trust, and bitachon in G-d.