The Jewish people are about to enter the Land of Israel, and Moshe gives them a warning in this week’s parsha, Va’etchanan, that feels connected to Tisha B’Av.

Soon, they’ll be living in cities they didn’t build, in houses filled with good things they didn’t fill, using wells they didn’t dig, and eating from vineyards and olive trees they didn’t plant.

Basically, their entire reality is about to change.

For years, they had lived through slavery, then miracles, then the desert. They had seen G-d take care of them in ways that were impossible to ignore.

Now they’re about to have homes, food, land, stability, and the kind of life they’ve been waiting for.

Moshe warns them not to forget G-d.

Not because having a full home is bad, or that we aren’t meant to work hard, build a life, make responsible choices, and enjoy the brachot we have.

The warning is that when life starts to feel more settled, it’s easy to start believing that we are the source of our own security.

We work hard. We make plans. We build homes. We fill our refrigerators. We organize our calendars. We do what needs to be done.

Our efforts don’t mean we are in control of the outcome.

The Jewish people needed to remember that G-d was the source when they left Egypt, when they crossed the sea, and when they ate manna in the desert.

He would still be the source once they were living in actual houses with actual vineyards and olive trees.

Their circumstances were changing from living a miraculous life to a “regular” life but the source of both those lifestyles wasn’t changing.

That’s what makes this feel especially relevant to me as we enter Tisha B’Av.

Tisha B’Av is a day when we sit with what was lost. We mourn the destruction of the Beit Hamikdash, but also what that destruction says about a world that can look successful on the outside and still be deeply broken underneath.

Chazal teach that the Second Beit Hamikdash was destroyed because of sinat chinam, baseless hatred.

The Jewish people had a land, a Beit Hamikdash and a seemingly functional society, but in reality they were not treating their neighbors the way they should have which lead to a catastrophic result.

That’s uncomfortable to think about because it means a full life is not necessarily a meaningful one.

You can have a home full of things and still not have enough room for the people inside it.

You can be busy doing important things and still lose sight of what G-d is asking from you.

You can work hard for your family and still need to ask whether the way you are living is helping you show up for them with patience, generosity, and care.

Our homes, possessions, income, and plans can all be brachot. We should appreciate them and take care of them, but we must remember the ultimate purpose.

Your home should support the life you are building making it easier to feed your family, welcome guests, rest, do mitzvot, get out the door in the morning, and be present with the people you love.

It shouldn’t become so overwhelming that the stuff itself gets more attention than the life happening around it.

If there’s one area of your home or life that has become a source of pressure, bring it to Tidy Together next week.

It can be a drawer you keep avoiding, paperwork that’s taking up mental space, an unpacked bag, a holiday task, or a decision that’s been sitting on your list for far too long.

During the 55-minute session, you’ll work through three focused sprints. You can ask me what to do next, get help making a decision, or use the quiet room for accountability while you work.

You won’t finish your whole house. You can make one part of your life easier to manage, so it can support what matters instead of getting in the way.

Join a Tidy Together Session Next Week

May we merit to see the rebuilding of the Beit Hamikdash speedily in our days.