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Daily Torah: Morning Reflection & Prayer· Folge 12

One Steady Step: Strength for the Weary

Mittwoch, 21. Oktober 2026 · 8 min

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David Ben-Ami reflects on Isaiah’s promise to give strength to the weary, and the morning blessing hanoten laya'ef koach. Drawing on Jewish prayer and the sages, he offers a gentle thought for the day: name your tiredness honestly, then take one steady step.

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Good morning, and welcome. I'm David Ben Ami. Before we begin, let's take one slow breath together. Whatever this morning looks like for you, you're here, and that's a good place to start. If you've been with us for a while, you may remember Episode 5, when we walked with Abram as he left everything familiar behind and trusted the voice that said, Lech lecha, go.

That kind of trust, in Hebrew bitachon, is a beautiful thing. But there's a question we didn't ask then. What happens on day forty of a journey? What happens when the excitement is gone and the road is still long? The tradition has an answer, and it's chanted in synagogue alongside Lech Lecha. It's the Haftarah, the reading from the Prophets, and it comes from Isaiah, chapter forty, verses twenty eight to thirty one.

Listen to verse twenty nine in Hebrew first. Noten laya'ef koach, ule'ein onim otzmah yarbeh. Let me unpack those words. Noten means gives. Laya'ef means to the weary, to the faint, to the one who has run out. Koach is strength, the inner capacity to keep going. And ule'ein onim otzmah yarbeh means, to the one who has no vigor, He increases might.

So He gives strength to the weary, and to one with nothing left,

He adds more. Notice who Isaiah is speaking to. Just before this, in verse twenty seven, the people say, My way is hidden from God. They're exiles. They feel unseen. And the prophet doesn't scold them for being tired. He says, Have you not known? The Eternal One never grows faint or weary, and gives strength to those who do.

Now, this verse didn't stay in the book of Isaiah. It walked into the prayer book. Every morning, in the Birkhot HaShachar, the dawn blessings, many of us say: Baruch ata Adonai Eloheinu Melech ha'olam, hanoten laya'ef koach. Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who gives strength to the weary.

And here's a detail I find lovely. The Talmud, in Tractate Berakhot, page sixty b, gives us the original list of morning blessings, and it reads like choreography. You open your eyes, and you say pokeach ivrim, who gives sight to the blind. You sit up, and you say matir asurim, who frees the captives.

You stand straight, zokef kefufim, who raises those who are bowed down. You put your feet on the floor, rokea ha'aretz al hamayim, who spreads the earth over the waters. You tie your belt, ozer Yisrael bigvurah, who girds Israel with strength. Each blessing meets the body at the exact moment it wakes.

But look at what's missing. Hanoten laya'ef koach is not in that Talmudic list. It came later, and it wasn't accepted everywhere right away. The Shulchan Arukh, the great code of Jewish law, records that some left it out because it had no explicit Talmudic source. Yet the Ashkenazi custom kept it, as the Rema notes, and the Sephardic communities, shaped by the teaching of the Arizal, adopted it too.

Why did people hold on to it so firmly? Perhaps because they needed it. Some later commentators suggest it was a blessing of encouragement for communities worn down by hardship. That's an interpretation, not a proven history, but it fits. A prayer for the weary tends to survive among the weary. The Tur, Rabbi Yaakov ben Asher, gives us a teaching on this blessing that I come back to often.

He points to a midrash on a verse from Lamentations: They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. The midrash says, think about what it means when one person leaves something valuable with another. When it comes back, it's often worn, a little damaged. But every night, we leave our soul with God, and it's exhausted from the day.

And every morning, God returns it chadashah veregi'ah, new and calm. Renewed and rested. Not tarnished. Returned. So when you say hanoten laya'ef koach, you aren't pretending you feel strong. You're acknowledging a gift that has just been handed back to you. Now let's return to Isaiah, because the last verse holds a surprise.

Verse thirty one. Those who hope in the Eternal, Yachalifu koach, shall renew their strength. That verb, yachalifu, comes from the root chalaf, which means to exchange. Some commentators read it this way: when your own energy has run dry, God doesn't just top it up. God exchanges your limited strength for a deeper one.

And then comes the progression. Ya'alu ever kanesharim, they shall rise up with wings like eagles. Yarutzu velo yiga'u, they shall run and not grow weary. Yelekhu velo yi'afu, they shall walk and not grow faint. Did you catch it? It goes down. Soaring, then running, then walking. If I were writing it, I'd build toward the eagle.

Commentators have noticed this, and one common reading is that the walking is the point. Anyone can have a moment of soaring. Anyone can have a burst of running, a week of enthusiasm. The real miracle is to walk, day after day, through the ordinary, and not grow faint. The promise isn't only for the mountaintop.

It's for Tuesday morning. So here's a practical thought for today. Many of us wake up already tired, carrying yesterday into today. Our tradition doesn't ask us to hide that. You don't have to fly today. You don't have to sprint. Say the blessing, or simply say it in your own words, and name the tiredness honestly.

Then choose one steady step. Maybe it's a kind word to someone who's had a hard week. Maybe it's finishing the task you've been avoiding, or being fully present for ten minutes with a person you love. One faithful step. That's walking, yelekhu, and Isaiah says it counts. And that brings us to the close, with a blessing.

May this day bring chiddush koach, a renewal of strength, to every weary heart. May you be given patience for each step, and may you not be asked to carry more than you can hold. And may shalom, a quiet peace, rest on every encounter you have today. Baruch ata Adonai, hanoten laya'ef koach. Blessed is the One who gives strength to the weary.

Have a gentle morning, and I'll see you tomorrow.

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