shmuel83 wrote on 15 Jan 2020 03:50:
An amazing thing happened to me today.
Last night I was watching a mussar talk about the importance of keeping Shabbat (I grew up not shomer Shabbat and have been struggling to keep it now since moving to an area with not many Jews). Before I went to bed last night I asked Hashem to help me keep Shabbat where I am, and this morning I got a call from another Jew who lives not far from me inviting me to Shabbat dinner this Friday! I truly believe Hashem needs to hear our prayers and requests now more than ever as He wants to know that we are still thinking of Him. Please keep talking to Hashem, He will listen, I am sure of it.
In one of the popular zemiros we sing on Shabbos, we proclaim, ki eshmerah Shabbos Keil yishmereini — “When I guard the Shabbos, G-d will safeguard me.” If we protect Shabbos against desecration, then Hashem protects us.
Shabbat is not only Judaism's best spiritual tool, but historically it has also been the litmus test of whether an individual or family will remain a vibrant part of the Jewish people. The famous maxim says:
"More than the Jew has kept Shabbat, Shabbat has kept the Jew."
A true story:
Bnei Brak is a city in Israel with a largely religious population. There once was a fellow living there who wasn't a religious man, but since he lived in the area, he sent his daughter to a yeshiva. After learning for a few years in yeshiva, the daughter decided she wanted to observe the Shabbat. Since the family did not want to observe Shabbat, fights broke out every week between the parents and their daughter.
One Friday afternoon, the daughter went to the local store to buy candles for Shabbat. The storeowner, who knew that the family did not observe the Shabbat, assumed the girl wanted yahrtzeit candles and gave her two of them. (Yahrtzeit candles are lit in memory of the deceased on the date of his or her death.)
That night, while her parents were downstairs, the girl went quietly to her room to light the candles. After awhile, her parents went to check on her. As they opened the door, they saw the yahrtzeit candles burning. "Who are these for?" they asked.
"One is for Daddy," she said, "and one is for Mommy."
The irony of their daughter's words hit home. Without the Shabbat, they came to realize, it's only a matter of time before their connection to Jewish continuity would die forever. Slowly the parents began to make their way back to a stronger, more vibrant Jewish lifestyle.