This week, we’re introduced to Avraham Avinu, and especially to one of his greatest challenges: “Lech lecha mei’artzecha—Go forth from your land.”
Think about that. Hashem asks Avraham to leave everything—his home, his country, his family, his comfort—and venture into the unknown. Would you do that? Would you leave everything behind simply because G-d said so? It’s an extraordinary test of faith.
Chazal tell us that every person in life experiences ten tests, just like Avraham. Each of us, on our own level, will face defining moments and decisions that shape who we become. Avraham’s tests were monumental. Think about it. Would you bring your own child as an offering? Would you go to war to rescue your nephew, even if it might cost you your life? These were tremendous tests of courage and faith.
But then comes one that, at first glance, doesn’t seem so dramatic.
Avraham finally arrives in Eretz Yisrael, the land G-d Himself promised him, and what happens? There’s famine. No food. Hunger everywhere. So Avraham pivots and goes down to Egypt.
What exactly, though, was the test? He arrives in the land, there’s no food, and he leaves. Where’s the challenge in that?
Here’s the key: the test wasn’t about going down to Egypt; it was about how he responded when things didn’t go as planned.
Hashem tells him, “Go to the land I will show you,” and Avraham obeys. But when he gets there, the situation collapses. Most people would have cried out, “Hashem, what’s going on? You told me to come here; why is there famine? Why are You doing this to me?”
That’s the test. Will you complain? Will you question? Or will you stay steadfast, trusting that there’s a reason beyond your understanding?
That is the essence of so many of life’s tests. It’s not about the big, dramatic moments, but how we respond when things don’t go smoothly.
Think about Bnei Yisrael in the desert. They traveled from place to place, and at each stop there was a new challenge—no water, no food, unbearable heat. What was the test? Not just survival; but their reaction. Would they complain? Would they despair? Or would they turn to Hashem calmly and say, “Please help us”?
Our tests in life don’t always arrive in the form of grand trials. Sometimes, they show up in the everyday moments. You’re about to fall asleep and realize you didn’t daven Maariv. That’s a test. You’re watching the game and a friend calls, “Let’s go to Rabbi Rosenfeld’s class.” That’s a test. Your mother calls and asks for a ride, and you’re thinking, “She could just take an Uber.” That’s a test. Life is full of these small, hidden tests. And the question is: how will you respond?
Let’s say you set out to do a mitzvah and suddenly hit traffic. You could get frustrated. “Why is this happening? Hashem must be against me!” Or you could take a breath and think, “If Hashem put me here, there’s a reason. This moment must be for my good.”
That calm acceptance, that willingness to trust, is itself a tremendous victory.
That’s what it means to pass a nisayon.
The Hebrew word nisayon doesn’t just mean “test,” like a biology exam. It comes from the word nes, a banner, something lifted high. Every time you respond to life’s challenges with faith and patience, you lift yourself higher. You raise your inner banner. So yes, Avraham’s famine was a test. Not because he had to suffer hunger, but because he had to decide how to interpret it; complaint or confidence, despair or faith.
Every one of us faces our own version of that test every day. Most of them go unrecorded. There won’t be headlines or fanfare. But between you and Hashem, you’ll know, you passed. You elevated yourself. And that’s what life is all about: facing challenges, rising above them, and becoming a little more like Avraham Avinu, the father of faith.
Because you are his child, and within you is the same greatness.
