I’m still recovering from my broken shoulder, and last week I ran into a setback. I was in agonizing pain. But slowly, carefully, with the help of my physical therapist, I got back to my new normal. The therapy is hard, but the agonizing pain is gone.

And as I sat at my computer today, I broke into song. Modeh ani lifnanecha, I sang, “I am thankful before You.” The soreness, the aches were still with me, just as they have been for months. But I am once again able to move forward. And in time, full healing will come.

What does it mean to be a yehudi, an ancient word that means “one who thanks God?” And why is it so hard to be thankful?

To be a Jew is to know that life can be hard. All of us live through losses and pain. But at the same time, there is much to be thankful for – for the wonders of nature, for the people who love us, for the community that surrounds us.

And ultimately, the decision about how to live is up to us. We can curse the darkness. We can feel angry and resentful for the pain in our lives. Or we see the world for what it really is, and we can give thanks for what we have.

Yes, my arm hurts. And yes, it limits what I can do. But I have a loving wife who cares for me. And I have been privileged to celebrate a series of firsts – the first time I was able to hold a coffee cup in my right hand, the first time I was able to buckle my own belt, and this morning, the first time that I could drive. Each of these was unthinkable the day before, and each of these was a chance to say Shehecheyanu.

We are taught to give thanks when we put on new clothes for the first time, when we taste fresh fruit, when we see the ocean. Each of these is a chance to stop, to give thanks for the small things in life, to remember that we are part of something greater. The fruit, the ocean, even the skill of the seamstress – these are miracles beyond comprehension.

Life can be hard. We Jews never deny that. But we also acknowledge a fundamental truth: that we have been gifted. We have been given a body – as long as it lasts – and we have been given a soul. We have been allowed to see the beauty of nature. And perhaps most importantly, God has told us that our lives are not in vain. Each of us can help another. And for all of those things, I say thank you.

And perhaps, this is the meaning of Shabbat. We sit at our tables, giving thanks for our loved ones. And in the morning service, we say words of thanksgiving:

Even if our mouths were as full of song as the sea
and our tongues full of joy in countless waves,
and our lips full of praise as the sky’s expanse,
and were our eyes to shine like sun and moon…

We could never truly thank you, Adonai,
for the tens of thousands and the myriads of wonders
that you have done for our ancestors and for us.

Life can be hard. But it is never without wonders.

Shabbat Shalom,
Art