Shabbat

The Perfect Shabbat Trap: When High Expectations Steal Our Peace

The food isn’t finished, the floor is dirty again, and you’ve already lost your patience. Here’s why a peaceful Shabbat matters more than a perfect one.

(Photo: shutterstock)(Photo: shutterstock)
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The hours before Shabbat can bring out the best in us, but they can also test our patience. We want everything to be ready, the house to be peaceful, and Shabbat to begin on the right note. But what happens when our plans fall apart, we lose our temper, and then become even more frustrated with ourselves?

Sometimes, the most important part of personal growth is learning that one setback does not erase all the progress we have made.

“This Week, I Won’t Get Angry”

Tzipora decided that this would be the week. This week, she would welcome Shabbat without getting upset. She would enter Shabbat calmly and would not get angry, no matter what happened.

But as the hours passed, Tzipora found herself losing her patience. The children had shattered her calm.

Immediately, waves of frustration and self-blame washed over her: “You’re good for nothing. You’ll never change. Why even bother trying?”

This is where we need to understand something important.

Sometimes, we make a firm resolution, such as deciding not to get angry. But when the moment of truth arrives, we stumble and find ourselves getting angry anyway. Then, out of frustration, we become angry at ourselves for getting angry in the first place.

Instead of one moment of anger, we have now created an entire cycle of frustration and self-criticism.

Real change happens gradually, through persistence, determination, and keeping our eyes on the goal.

Even when we stumble, we can acknowledge what happened, forgive ourselves, move forward, and continue working toward the same goal. One mistake does not mean we have failed.

Over time, with consistency, the change we are working toward can become an inseparable part of who we are.

The Polish Thief

In situations like these, the Beis Yisrael would tell a story about the exploits of “the Polish thief.”

In Poland, a grocer would stand behind a large counter, with candies and snacks arranged for sale. Built into the counter was a drawer where he kept the day’s earnings.

The Polish thief had a clever scheme.

He would wait until the end of the day, when he knew the drawer would contain a substantial amount of money. Then he would wait for a moment when the store was empty and approach a young boy.

“Would you like a large piece of candy and a zloty coin in exchange for playing a small prank?” he asked.

“Yes,” the boy replied.

“Go into the grocery store, take a large piece of candy from the counter, and put it straight into your mouth in front of the grocer. Then turn around and leave. When the grocer asks you to pay, give him a mocking smile and stick out your tongue.

“He will become angry and chase you. But the large counter will slow him down, and you will already be close to the door. Let him chase you for a while, then run away. You are much faster than he is.”

The thief handed the boy his payment in advance.

The boy did exactly as instructed. He took a piece of candy, and when the grocer demanded payment, the boy mocked him, imitated his voice, and stuck out his tongue.

Furious at the boy’s behavior, the grocer rushed from behind the counter and chased him outside.

That was precisely what the thief had been waiting for.

With the store empty and the grocer gone, he slipped inside, opened the drawer containing the day’s earnings, took everything, and disappeared.

Eventually, the grocer returned, still upset about the disrespectful boy. At least, he thought, business had been particularly good that day.

Then he opened the drawer.

It was empty.

The little thief had simply cleared the way for the big thief.

The Beis Yisrael explained that this is how the yetzer hara can operate.

A person stumbles and becomes consumed by frustration over the mistake, the “small money.” Then, because of that disappointment, they give up on themselves entirely. That is when the “big thief” arrives and takes the entire cashbox.

The stumble was never the greatest danger. Giving up because of the stumble was.

This is an important principle to remember: Change does not happen all at once or in perfect form. It happens gradually, through persistence and consistency.

Lower the Bar Before Shabbat

There is another practical way to bring more peace into our homes before Shabbat: lowering our expectations.

We need to remind ourselves that it will not be a disaster if:

  • Instead of sixteen kinds of salads, only eight were prepared.
  • Instead of three cakes, we managed to bake one and bought the other two.
  • We washed the floor thoroughly, only for someone to walk across it at exactly the wrong moment and leave footprints.
  • We dressed the children beautifully for Shabbat, only for mysterious stains to appear moments later.

Add your own examples to the list.

Nothing terrible has happened.

The sun will still set at the proper time. Shabbat will still arrive, and the shelter of peace will spread over us.

Lower the bar of expectations a little, along with the uncompromising demand that everything be done perfectly. We are human beings with limited abilities. Instead of focusing on everything we did not manage to accomplish, we can appreciate everything we did.

Thinking this way before the pressure begins can spare us and our families a great deal of anger, disappointment, and heartache.

The Shabbat Shopping That Changed Everything

A distinguished Torah scholar once shared a remarkable experience.

Every Thursday, without fail, some significant mishap or complicated problem would arise in his household and disrupt the normal running of the home. The family tried repeatedly to prevent these problems, but nothing seemed to work.

Every Thursday, there was another problem.

One week, the person responsible for the family's main Shabbat shopping was unable to go, and no replacement could be found. With no other choice, the Torah scholar went and did the shopping himself.

Toward evening, he suddenly realized something unusual: Nothing had gone wrong that Thursday.

A thought occurred to him. Could there be a connection between personally taking responsibility for this part of the Shabbat preparations and the absence of the usual problems?

The following week, he did the main shopping himself again.

Once again, Thursday passed peacefully.

This was after years in which problems had appeared almost like clockwork every Thursday.

From then on, he began doing the weekly Shabbat shopping himself.

It was not that he had previously avoided helping at home. He had always participated in Shabbat preparations, helping with whatever was needed, preparing certain foods, and going out to purchase forgotten items. But he had never taken responsibility for the main weekly shopping.

Several weeks later, an event made it difficult for him to go shopping that Thursday.

“It won’t be a disaster if I skip it this week,” he thought.

That Thursday, a problem arose again.

From then on, he made sure to personally purchase the family's Shabbat necessities, and after years of recurring Thursday mishaps, things began to fall into place peacefully.

Preparing for Shabbat is not only about how much we accomplish. It is also about the spirit in which we do it. When we release the demand for perfection, refuse to let a setback defeat us, and personally invest ourselves in honoring Shabbat, we can enter the holy day with something far more valuable than a perfect home: a peaceful one.

Rabbi David Feirman lectures on child education and is the author of When Will My Children Listen to Me? and The Shabbat Table with Children.


Tags:ShabbatShabbat preparationJewish homeJewish familyraising childrenparentingJewish parenting

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