Ep 4 Two Voices One Prayer What Rachel and Leah Taught Me About Tefilah

Rachel and Leah from the Torah teach us about real prayer - Tefillah. Rachel prayed for others' blessings while waiting for her own, showing true spiritual motherhood. Leah learned to thank Hashem even in pain, becoming the first to thank in history. Barak from the tribe of Naftali showed faith by insisting on Hashem's presence before battle. Tefillah is not just in words, but in actions and honesty. Rachel and Leah's examples guide us in sincere prayer and gratitude. Before I open a sitter in the morning I also imply because sometimes fear doesn't begin with words. It begins in the quiet space between two people and the ache of wanting something that hasn't come and the tension between surrender and hope. The Torah doesn't just give us mitzvot and havachah. It gives us moments, private vulnerable moments and when Hashem lets us see inside the hearts of Rachel and Leah, He's not just telling the story, He's teaching us what real tefillah looks like. Rachel's first tefillah doesn't come from joy, it comes from waiting, from watching others build families while her own dreams remain untouched and when she does something extraordinary she gives her maidservant Bilhah to Yaakov, not as a resignation, not as a defeat, but as a profound act of spiritual motherhood. In the ancient world it was understood a barren woman could raise children through her maidservant but for Rachel this wasn't just culture, this was tefillah in action. Havel teaches that Rachel prayed for Bilhah to succeed, she asked Hashem to bring blessing into the home even if it didn't yet come through her. That kind of tefillah, asking Hashem to give someone else the very thing you long for isn't just generous, it's revolutionary and when Bilhah gives birth, Rachel names the child Dun, Hashem has judged me and He heard my voice. Her voice was heard but the ache was still there and today there are still women walking the house paths, women who turn to surrogacy, not out of giving up, but out of faith, out of love, out of hope. There are women who pray for a child that cannot yet carry themselves, who entrust another woman to carry that dream for them. Rachel reminds us the Torah sees that pain, it dignifies that hope and it tells you, you are not alone. And yet even after Dun is born, Rachel is still wrestling, still waiting, still hoping and that's when Bilhah gives birth again. Rachel names this second child Naftali, in Gracious chapter 30 verse 8, Naftulei elokim naftalti, with divine wrestlings, I have wrestled. This isn't just a poetic term, a phrase, Naftali is the only name in all of Tanakh, Torah and Ziyyim and Kisuvim, that uses both a noun and a verb from the same root. Naftulei means struggles, Naftalti, I have struggled. No other biblical name does this, not Yitzchak, not Shmuel, not even Moshe. Rachel doesn't just name a child, she names a process, a struggle still unresolved, a tefillah still rising. She's not at peace, she's not finished, but she's honest. She's still turning toward Hashem, tangled, but present, that's tefillah. And 540 years later, Rachel's voice echoes again, the land is in northern Israel, in the Galil, the region of Naftali, the Bnei Yisroel are under Canaanite oppression, and the king of King Yosem, who's ruling, and his general Isisra, who commands 900 iron chariots, and into the sphere steps Barak ben Avinoam, from the tribe of Naftali. Devorah, a prophetess and judge, tells him Hashem has chosen Barak to lead, but Barak responds with something no other general says in Tanakh, he says to Devorah, if you go with me, I'll go, if you don't, I won't. Shoftim, chapter 4, verse 8. At first it sounds like hesitation, but it's not fear, it's faith. Barak doesn't want to go without the voice of Hashem beside him, and in that moment, Devorah is that voice, she's the Nebia, the one to whom the command came. Barak isn't just choosing strategy, he's choosing sanctity, not Moshe, not Joshua, not David, only Barak says, Barak from Shevet Naftali, whose tribal name was given to Rachel, says if Hashem doesn't go with me, I won't go, that's not weakness, that's Rachel's strength, Naftali's inheritance, Tefillah not only in the synagogue, but on the battlefield. If Rachel teaches us to pray from longing, Leah teaches us how to pray from presence, she names each of her children as a moment of Tefillah, Reuven means Hashem has seen my pain, Shimon means Hashem has heard I am unloved, Levi, now my husband will connect to me, and Yehudah, this time I will thank Hashem. Leah says, this time I will thank Hashem, and that last one changes everything. Chazal says, Leah was the first person in history to say thank you to Hashem, Brethren and Brechos, 7b. From her comes Yehudah, and from Yehudah, us, Yehudim, the people who thank. Barak wasn't the only echo of Rachel's Tefillah, there are history, there was also Ahirah ben Enon, a tribal leader during the journey through the desert, offering gifts at the dedication of the Mishkan, and there was Yirimot, a temple musician from Naftali during King David and Malach's reign, turning Tefillah into song, and then there's the land of Naftali itself, the first to be exiled, but the first to be promised redemption. It says in Mishayot 9.1, the people walking in darkness have seen a great light. Rachel's Tefillah doesn't end in the desert, it moved, it lived, it became legacy. So before I open a siddur, I think of them, Rachel who gave up everything, and still made space to pray for someone else, Leah, who turned her pain into praise, and taught us how to thank. Together they show me that Tefillah isn't about being composed, it's about being honest. Rachel taught me that Tefillah can be tangled, Leah taught me that it can be whole. Two women, two voices, one prayer, one Tefillah, and that's what Tefillah began.