Welcome back to the Living the Dream Newsletter.

On the first night of Chanuka, I opened a sealed letter I had written to Hashem exactly one year ago.

I didn’t remember what I wrote.

Reading it felt like opening a time capsule — from who I was back then… to who I’ve now become.

Some lines made me smile. Some hit harder than I expected. And one part changed how I see this entire year.

That’s what I wrote about this week — and if you’ve ever davened for something and wondered, “So… what happened?” — this is for you.

Also: through the end of Chanuka, a full year of 4-Minute Gratitude is $59.99 (normally $89.99).
These daily prompts are simple — but they’ll train your eyes to notice the bracha all around you.
You’ll feel lighter. More grounded. More present to what’s actually working in your life.

Wishing you a wonderful Chanuka full of light,
Amir

Now, read what I found when I opened that envelope…

I Asked Hashem for Clarity. A Year Later, This Is What I Got.

What I Found When I Opened a Letter I Wrote to Hashem Last Year

On the first night of Chanuka this year, I opened a sealed envelope that had been sitting in my living room for a full year.

I wrote it on the last night of Chanuka last year.

I honestly didn’t remember what it said.

I had a general sense of what I’d been davening for back then — but the details surprised me. Reading it felt like opening a time capsule. A conversation between who I was a year ago… and who I am now.

The First Surprise

The first thing that surprised me wasn’t what I asked for.

It was how much of the letter was just gratitude.

Line after line of thank You, Hashem.

Thank You for my family.

Thank You for living in Eretz Yisrael.

Thank You for community.

Thank You for struggles that made me better and brought me closer to You.

Before I asked for anything — I was already thanking.

That was the bracha.

Chanuka is about l’hodot u’lehalel — thanking and praising — before anything else. Before requests. Before outcomes. Before results.

Without planning it, half my letter was already living that truth.

The Gut Punch

Then I got to the part that hurt.

Some of the things I davened for didn’t happen.

I davened all eight nights of Chanuka last year next to the candles.

I wrote tefillot.

I sealed them in an envelope.

That envelope sat on my menorah for an entire year.

And a year later?

Parnasa is still tight.

No car.

Still renting.

There was a real moment of letdown.

Not because I thought Hashem “owes” me anything — but because I had worked hard, davened harder, and hoped.

If you’ve ever opened your heart to Hashem and then looked around months later thinking, “So… what happened?” — you know that feeling.

Reading the Letter Again

So I read the letter again.

And this time, something shifted.

I realized the bracha didn’t disappear.

It showed up deeper than the outcome I had been waiting for.

And that’s when Chanuka clicked for me in a whole new way.

Searching for the Oil

Chanuka isn’t just the story of oil lasting eight days.

It’s the story of searching.

The Greeks defiled all the oil. 

But the Jews didn’t give up.

They searched — until they found one small jug of pure oil.

And that oil didn’t last eight days randomly.

It lasted eight days because that’s how long it takes to make and deliver new pure oil.

Meaning: the miracle lasted exactly as long as the journey needed.

Sometimes the light doesn’t come to replace the darkness.

Sometimes it comes to carry you through it.

Day and Night

“Tov l’hodot l’Hashem… L’hagid baboker chasdecha, v’emunatcha baleilot.”

In the daytime, we talk about Hashem’s kindness.

At night, we need emunah to believe the kindness is still there.

Chanuka is a night holiday.

It teaches us how to find light when things aren’t clear yet. When outcomes haven’t arrived. When the picture isn’t finished.

What Actually Came True

Reading the letter again with those eyes, I started seeing the bracha everywhere.

I’m still here.

I didn’t collapse.

I didn’t disappear.

I didn’t give up.

My candle is still burning.

In fact, last year’s last candle fueled the first candle this year.

People are using what I’m building — even if the income hasn’t caught up yet.

Habitachon has been going for 236 days.

People tell me constantly how much it helps them.

Sometimes it’s a quiet message. Sometimes it’s someone telling me they didn’t feel alone anymore.

I sit in Yerushalayim twice a week — listening, answering questions, giving chizuk.

Quiet thank-yous. Real impact.

One line in the letter said: “People are using and gaining from it.”

That came true.

Just not the way I imagined.

The Answers I Didn’t Expect

I asked Hashem for clarity — and He answered.

Not with a lightning bolt.

But by keeping me building when nothing was obvious yet.

Writing.

Creating.

Showing up every day.

Clarity didn’t come as an idea.

It came as process.

And I asked Hashem for parnasa — and He answered that too.

Not by making things easy.

But by teaching me consistency without immediate reward.

I didn’t just ask for money.

I asked for a kli — a vessel that can hold bracha.

And I asked Hashem for bitachon — and He answered that too.
Not by removing uncertainty.

But by leaving me in the space where effort is real,
outcomes are unclear,
and trust has to be active — not theoretical.

That’s not Hashem withholding.
That’s Hashem teaching me how to walk with Him.

Bitachon isn’t learned in comfort.
It’s learned when there’s no visible safety net.

The Kli

That’s when I realized something else.

Even the parts of the letter that didn’t happen yet… are already in motion.

My job is to build the glass.

Hashem’s job is to pour the bracha.

Some glasses take longer to shape.

Gratitude That Goes Deeper

There’s a difference between saying:

“Thank You Hashem that I don’t have a car because everything You do is for the best.”

And saying:

“Thank You Hashem for the bus rides that slowed me down.
For the people I met.
For the neighbors who lent us their car.
For showing me what it feels like not to have — so when I do have, I won’t take it for granted.
And so I’ll notice when someone else doesn’t have… and I can help.”

That’s trained vision.

Chanuka Trains Your Eyes

In everything that looks dark, there is buried light.

Sometimes it’s hard to find — just like the oil.

But when you look — really look — with Hashem’s help, you find one small jug.

And once you find it, the light grows.

Chanuka trains your eyes.

Not to deny pain.

Not to pretend everything is perfect.

But to search.

And once you see the light, you can’t unsee it.

Our candle is still burning.

And last year’s flame lit this year’s first candle.

I didn’t just open an envelope this year.

I opened my eyes.

Train Your Eyes While the Light Is Still Burning

If this post stirred something in you —
that quiet feeling of “maybe the bracha is already here… I just haven’t been trained to see it yet” —
that’s not an accident.

Chanuka teaches us that light grows when we learn how to look.

That’s what 4-Minute Gratitude is built for.
Not positive thinking.
Not denial.
Just four focused minutes a day training your eyes to notice the light that’s already burning.

Until Chanuka ends, the annual subscription is $59.99 for the year (normally $89.99).
Literally pennies a day for unlimited positivity and gratitude vision.

Sign up and use coupon code “CHANU4MG86” on the “Annual” plan at checkout.

And if now isn’t the right time, WhatsApp me and I’ll send you the Chanuka prompts for free. You can also take a peek at the past Chanuka prompts on my website.

If You Want to Learn How to Trust Hashem
Even When the Answer Hasn’t Arrived Yet…

I’d love to guide you deeper.

➡️ Join the waitlist for the 7 Days to Unshakable Bitachon Enhanced Course.

➡️ Or pre-purchase now and lock in the pre-launch pricing.

Because Bitachon isn’t learned when life is calm and clear.
It’s learned in the in-between.
When effort is real, outcomes are unclear, and trust has to be active.

This is where your relationship with Hashem stops being theoretical
and starts becoming lived.

Hashem is already with you in the waiting.
You’re just learning how to walk with Him there.

Hashem’s Got You.

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Thanks for reading.

Chanuka reminds us that light doesn’t always replace the darkness — sometimes, it carries us through it.

Wishing you clarity, calm, and eyes trained to notice the light that’s already burning.
Amir