Shiluach Hakan, Honoring Parents, and the Power of Bitachon

You’re walking a quiet trail and see a bird’s nest. A mother bird hovers protectively over her young. The Torah says: send away the mother, then take the eggs, “it will be good for you, and your days will be lengthened.”

Ramban explains this mitzvah cultivates compassion. Don’t cause the mother pain. Train yourself in mercy, and you become merciful.

The Vilna Gaon sees something deeper: this mitzvah and honoring parents are the only two mitzvot promising long life. Yet one seems kind, the other cruel. This teaches us to follow Hashem not because it makes sense, but because it’s His will. If we only serve Him when it aligns with our values, are we truly serving Him?

Kibbud av v’em is famously hard. Rabbi Yochanan said, “Fortunate is one who never saw father or mother.” Shiluach hakan seems easy. Yet both carry the same reward.

Pirkei Avot teaches: be as careful with “light” mitzvot as with “heavy” ones. We don’t know the reward. Maybe Hashem is showing us that every mitzvah is infinitely precious.

People run to do the big, once-a-year mitzvot—matzah, lulav, and more. But what about mitzvot available every minute? Chesed is everywhere—helping your spouse, smiling, speaking kindly. And one mitzvah can live in your heart all day: bitachon—trusting in Hashem.

Bitachon is not just a coping tool. It’s a way of life. Chovos HaLevavos describes two people living the same life—yet one trusts in Hashem and earns reward for every moment. Every act becomes service. Sleeping to recharge for avodat Hashem. Eating for strength to do mitzvot. Working as hishtadlut, knowing parnassah comes from Him.

To someone watching, sending away a mother bird looks cruel. But the Torah tells us—it’s good, it brings long life, it’s Divine will. Geulah is the same.

The world before Mashiach looks like it’s unraveling. Chutzpah rises, truths blur, systems collapse. But that’s only if you’re looking through nature’s lens. With a bitachon lens, you see nothing is falling apart. Everything is falling into place.

Geulah isn’t a break from reality — it’s the moment reality finally makes sense.

When we live with bitachon, we start to see the world not as broken, but as becoming. Bitachon opens our eyes. It helps us see the kindness beneath the chaos, the design behind the delay.

And the more we live that way—with quiet trust in our hearts and Hashem on our lips—we prepare ourselves for geulah. Because geulah isn’t just what we long for—it’s the clarity to see Hashem’s goodness behind everything, even in the moments that don’t yet make sense.

One mitzvah is hard, one is easy—same reward. Two people live the same life—only one lives with Hashem. Bitachon transforms everything. Every act matters. Every moment is holy. And every breath of trust brings the world closer to geulah.