Each evening during the seven weeks between Passover and Shavuot, we count the Omer — marking the passage of time from liberation to revelation. At first glance, what may seem like a simple daily ritual is, in fact, a spiritual practice calling us to resilience.
Resilience is often described as the ability to withstand adversity, to endure hardship, and to emerge stronger. But true resilience is not just about surviving; it is about moving forward with purpose, even when the road is long and uncertain. This is the story the Omer tells: the journey from the narrow places to the open possibilities of Sinai.
In ancient days, the Omer count marked an agricultural season of vulnerability — the period between the barley harvest and the wheat harvest. The outcome was uncertain. Would there be enough rain? Enough sustenance? Our ancestors marked each day with attention and prayer, recognizing the fragility of life and the need for trust in God's plan.
Today, as we count, we also practice resilience. We acknowledge that growth rarely happens all at once. It comes in small steps: one evening at a time, one breath at a time, one act of hope at a time. Some days, the count feels easy and almost automatic; other days, it feels heavy and hard to lift our spirits and mark another day. But we continue. We mark time not because every day is perfect, but because every day matters.
In the Kabbalistic tradition, each day of the Omer carries its own unique spiritual quality, such as chesed (lovingkindness), gevurah (strength), or netzach (endurance). These attributes remind us that resilience requires balancing many inner traits — compassion and discipline, humility and perseverance.
There have been seasons in my own life when it felt like simply counting the day was an act of courage. Times when I had to trust that small, faithful steps were enough — even when the way forward was hidden. It was in those quiet acts of persistence that I discovered a deeper strength: a resilience shaped not by certainty, but by hope.
Counting the Omer teaches us that resilience is not rooted in grand gestures but in small, daily acts of faithfulness: showing up, staying connected to our purpose, and allowing time itself to be a teacher. It invites us to trust the slow unfolding of transformation.
In a world that often demands speed, certainty, and visible progress, the Omer offers another wisdom: transformation is a slow journey made possible by the patient weaving together of days. Resilience is not an exception to hardship — it is a commitment to endure, to adapt, and to continue walking toward the promise of something greater.
This season invites us to count — not just the days, but our steps toward greater wholeness, healing, and hope.
May this season teach us that resilience is holy, that every step we take matters, and that even when the road is long, we are never walking it alone.
Thank you!
Love this perspective. Very wise & helpful as I mindfully walk & focus my intentional care for others I will add resistance to my Kavanah!