Reb Shaul Ber Kobakov, a successful lumber merchant from Minsk, a chossid of the Rebbe Maharash and later of the Rebbe Rashab. Once, when on a business trip, as he waited on the railway platform, he heard an announcement that his train would be delayed, so he went to wash his hands and daven Maariv. Another Yiddishe merchant present, knowing that this chossid was not one to rush through his davening, went over and warned him that his train would probably arrive before he finished Shemoneh Esreh.
"That's of no interest to me," replied the chossid. "Now is the time for Maariv, so I'll daven now."
While he stood in a quiet corner and davened for a full hour, the train came and left. When he finished, he waited for the next train and repeated to the other merchant that nothing mattered to him, even his business, when it was time to daven. Just then the next train clattered to a halt, but before the chossid climbed on, whom did he see, stepping down from the train? It was the owner of the forests to whom he was about to travel! That man came over and greeted him, explaining that he had waited for him at his station as they had planned, but when the Yid had not shown up, he had decided to travel to see him. From this, Reb Shaul Ber understood that he must be desperate to sell his forests, and was thus able to strike a good bargain.
On another occasion, this same Reb Shaul Ber went to toivel before davening, with a few thousand rubles in his pocket. In the midst of his davening, he suddenly realized that his pocket was not as heavy as it had been before, yet he did not rush to finish. He continued davening at his accustomed leisurely pace, then put on Rabbeinu Tam's tefillin, and at about two o'clock, when he was ready, he went back to the river where he had toiveled. There, at the place he had put his clothing down, he found his money – covered with sand that had been blown by the wind!
(לקוטי סיפורים ע' שמא)
In response to a man who was troubled and downcast because of his many debts, the Rebbe wrote that his biggest trouble was his lack of bitachon in HaShem, for that is the key to everything. The Rebbe encouraged the writer to toil in strengthening his certain belief that even if there seems to be no way for matters to work out, he should nevertheless trust in HaShem – for He works above nature, and thus all can be good. When a person lifts himself out of his worldly mindset to the point that he appreciates that there is no power over him except HaShem, he is then able to cause everything to be good in actuality.
(אג"ק ח"ו ע' קמז)
