We all have a comfort zone. I know I do. And let me tell you, it's the best I've ever had — spacious and well protected with an inner warning system that will alert me to experiences that will threaten my sense of well-being.
This isn't my first comfort zone, not by any means. I've had many, beginning in my childhood, and I've been evicted from all of them. But not this one. I did one good job when I erected it. When I turned sixty-one I said, "Enough is enough! It's been a long haul, sometimes difficult. I've overcome obstacles like crazy and vanquished fears. No more! Time for a well-deserved rest!"
Yes, life is risky, there's no doubt about it. No matter what we do there's always a certain amount of danger, physical or emotional, not to mention spiritual. We encounter it daily. But there are those that ignore the hazards and engage the world. What kind of a person would do that? What kind of a person would willingly take risks, jeopardizing the status quo? What kind of a person would have the strength to break free of her comfort zone in a world that threatens the very survival of risk-takers?
Miriam the Prophetess, that's who. You know who I mean, don't you? Big sister to Moses, a woman who was a laudable teacher in her own right. And what a teacher she was. I've learned from her, big time.
Miriam's life may be a bit sketchy, not taking up a lot of space within our Torah. But the space that she does take up is powerful. She was a woman of strength and resolve. Now I wonder if she ever had a comfort zone? Perhaps she did. Only she didn't make it a permanent residence, that's all. She didn't give into all the fear that had to be so much a part of life back in the narrow places of Egypt.
Think back. Remember when Pharaoh decreed that all Hebrew male babies had to be thrown into the Nile? Remember when he ordered two midwives to kill all the male infants that emerged from their mothers wombs'? Remember how those midwives defied Pharaoh? And of course, we all know who they were. Their names were written in the Talmud, their strength delineated within those holy pages. They were Jochebed and Miriam, both operating under aliases. According to our sages, Miriam was called Puah because she defied Pharoah, telling him that G‑d would settle all accounts. And her mother was called Shifra because she used to "smooth over her daughter's impudence." No babies died at their hands. Not one. And that enraged Pharaoh, but then again, Pharaoh was always enraged, wasn't he? Couldn't accept the fact that the Hebrew population was increasing, that it hadn't disappeared. Sound familiar?
Miriam must have spoken with great authority because her father listened and remarried his wife. And of course, since Amram was a leader within the community, the other men followed suit and returned to their wives.
It stands to reason that after all those remarriages, a lot of births followed, including one in Amram's household. Moses was born, but Pharaoh's decree was still standing. In order for Moses' life to be saved, he had to be hidden. And he was, of course, within an ark of bulrushes that floated on the Nile. And Miriam stood watch, waiting to see what would happen to the child. He was her brother, after all.
Yes, Miriam, the little girl that fled her comfort zone, took control of the situation once again. After watching Moses being scooped from the ark, and placed in the hands of Pharaoh's daughter, Miriam approached the woman and presented her plan. And it was a master plan. The infant could be nursed by a Hebrew woman, Jochebed, and returned to the royal princess as soon as he was weaned. The proposition was accepted. Moses grew up in an Egyptian household and Miriam slipped from the pages of our Torah until she stood at the Red Sea, leading the women in dance and song.
Do you see the pattern here? I think I do. Miriam broke free of her comfort zone, risked Pharaoh's anger as a five-year-old, but she did so in the presence of her mother who, as the Rabbis said, "smoothed things over." She then confronted her father, a father who loved her and posed no physical threat. After that, she prophesied Moses' destiny. It was in the last incident that Miriam was on her own. She arranged for the care of her brother, but in doing so, she had to approach Pharaoh's daughter, a woman who represented a very physical threat. Miriam could have been punished by death for her audacity. Yes, I can see a pattern. Miriam grew in strength, didn't she? Each action that she took seemed to pay dividends. Her abilities seemed to become more finely honed and her responsibilities greater, until she became the woman who warranted leading the Jewish women in song and dance at the shore of the Red Sea, and even later as the keeper of the well that nourished our people in the wilderness.
When I look at Miriam's life, I try to find similarities within mine. Don't get me wrong. I'm not getting above myself. I'm simply trying to discern a similar pattern within my history. And doing this, I have to admit that it was all of those difficult moments, those moments when I willingly or unwillingly pushed the boundaries of my comfort zones and faced the fears and challenges that confronted me, that added up to the plusses in my life. Those moments gave me the strength to advance mini-steps up my rickety spiritual ladder. And it was the culmination of all those small steps, all that boundary pushing that gave me the strength and the ability to build yet more strength to create the woman I am today.
Admittedly, I am no Miriam. In fact I seem to slog a million miles behind her, but, at last, I'm trying to follow her lead. I'm at last learning that my comfort zone could very well morph into a prison, with fear standing guard, a prison that isolates me from the challenges that promote spiritual growth, of acquiring more strength and preventing me from serving G‑d where He needs me the most, in a world that is fraught with hardships and risks.
I learned this from Miriam, a woman who faced the challenges before her and helped to free a nation. She was a woman that we can all emulate, a woman that defined courage and followed the path of G‑dly service.
Dear G‑d, Creator of the ultimate comfort zone, grant me the strength of Miriam so that I can face the challenges in my life, knowing that it is these very challenges that offer opportunities to serve You as well as promote the growth that I so desperately need. Amen.
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