Yakov had a difficult life. In childhood, he was overlooked by his father and had to flee from his murderous brother. In the place he took refuge, he was an indentured servant to his swindling father-in-law and was betrayed by his firstborn son. Later on in life, he lost his great love in childbirth and lost one of his sons under acrimonious circumstances.
Yet the Torah says that Yakov lived the best years of his life as an older man in Egypt – וַיְחִי יַעֲקֹב בְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם / וַיָּגָר שָׁם בִּמְתֵי מְעָט.
After a life of pain and misery in exile, how could his final years turn out to be the best years of his life?
The Lubavitcher Rebbe explains that like exercise, resistance can do a world of good. By adapting to resistance, we have become stronger. Yakov could be in exile and still recognize that his life had come full circle, and he could live out his days in peace and tranquility – even far from home.
At Seder, after quoting Yakov’s happy years in Egypt, we eat Maror sandwiched between Matza. Matza is the bread of freedom, which is also the bread of affliction; they complement each other. The Sfas Emes explains that we cannot celebrate being free without owning the fact we were slaves as well.
Setbacks and comebacks are the ebbs and flows of life. It’s simplistic to label things in a vacuum because life is rarely black and white and mostly a long continuum of grey.
There is no such thing as a life without its share of problems, and it’s no good waiting on one trouble to end to move on to something else. The multitude of events in our life form one cohesive canvas, and we have to be present for each moment.
The Jewish People have been in exile for far longer than they haven’t. We hope for a World to Come, a utopian epoch of peace and wisdom. And yet, we don’t need that time to come to live our best lives. There is beauty and goodness in the daily grind of today – if we only look for it. So get comfortable with being uncomfortable.
Because the good stuff happens outside your comfort zone.