Shabbat Mevorchim Kislev: Changing My Relationship With Rain

With the clouds covering Tzfat…
This Shabbat carries a whisper of yichud —
descending into our world.
Shabbat Mevorchim Kislev

Erev Shabbat - already drawing down shefa.
May the rains come as bracha,
may they fall in rachamim,
may they soften the hard places within us.

נַקְדֵּם בְּבְרָכָה
אֶת גִּשְׁמֵי הַבְּרָכָה.
שַׁבָּת מְבָרְכִין מְבוֹרֶכֶת 💧
May the shefa that descends
return again and bless us.

I want to share with you why I’ve been sitting with rain lately —
why my heart is beginning to run toward it now…
instead of away…

And so, I come to rain.
I come to it differently now.

Because the reason I am delving into all of this is simple and deep:
I want to change my relationship with rain.
I want to heal the story of rain inside my body.

I grew up in New England,
where a rainy day meant one thing — gloom.
Grey skies. Cold shoes.
A heaviness that settled into the bones.
We faced rain with dread, with impatience,
waiting for the sun to finally break through.

As my childhood song goes:
Rain rain go away
come again another day
Little Susie wants to play
Rain, Rain go away

These 4 years in Eretz Yisrael have been reshaping me.
Here, the Land teaches a different language —
where every drop is bracha,
every cloud is hope,
every storm is a prayer rising.

Here, rain isn’t a mood — it is bracha.
Here, rain isn’t inconvenience — it is shefa.

Here, rain isn’t interruption — it is yichud…
the meeting of the בָּרָק (barak)
and the עָנָן (anan).

Rain not as weather, but as a zivug

It began when I learned Ibn Gabirol’s piyyut (see below)
in my shiur with my Rabbanit Benyamin in Tzfat
She spoke about rain not as weather,
but as a zivug —
a sacred joining of Upper and Lower Waters,

מַיִם עֶלְיוֹנִים and מַיִם תַּחְתּוֹנִים,
as the Ari and the Zohar describe.
She said:

“Geshem is a letter from Shamayim.
Geshem is a love-note of yichud.”

She opened a doorway I didn’t know was there.
And something softened inside me.
Rain became intimate,
like a whisper between heaven and earth,
a meeting of energies —
a cosmic embrace
falling into droplets.

She shared the story of Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk:
how he and his chassidim prayed for rain once —
and again —
and again.
Days passed.
No clouds.
No sign of mercy.

Until the Rav lifted his eyes above the Kinneret and cried:
“Ribbono shel Olam —
if You do not hear our tefillah for rain,
then let none of our prayers rise from this sea!”

And in that moment,
the clouds thickened,
the heavens bent low,
and the rain poured down.

Rain as response.
Rain as connection.
Rain as Hashem whispering,
“Yes. I hear you.”

She spoke about our times —
the shaking of the Land,
the confusion of nature,
the world unravelling at its edges.
She said:
*“Don’t shrink. Don’t fear.*
*Grow.*
*Expand.*
*Bring kedusha into your guf / body.*
*Be a gift in this world.”*

the rain is:
Shefa is born from yichud /union —
just like in the human body.”

She spoke of how even in the kitchen,
when we combine ingredients,
when we say a bracha,
when we create connection —
that too is yichud.
And every yichud draws shefa.

Baal Shem Tov taught
how Mashiach will come when
our yichudim fill the world,
when every action is done
panim el panim,
face to face,
presence to presence.

And somehow, the concept of rain began to enter my bones.
Not as dread.
Not as gloom.
But as Presence descending,
as bracha returning,
as shefa awakening,
as yichud happening inside my cells.

When you make a bracha with presence (nochachut, kavana, kedusha),
the vessel opens.
When you hug your child with awareness —
panim el panim —
shefa moves.

I am trying —
honestly trying —
to let the rain change me.
To meet it not as gloom,
but as Hashem’s breath on the world.
As the Shechinah lowering Herself to kiss the earth.
As the upper waters seeking the lower waters
in tenderness.

This Shabbat,
as we bless the month of Kislev,
I want to welcome the rain
not just onto my skin
but into my bones,
into the quiet inner rooms of my life.

And so …
with all the shaking in the world —
הַכֹּל מִתְבַּלְבֵּל
nature, nations, hearts —
we don’t shrink.
We don’t fear.
*We grow.*
We bring kedusha into our (collective) body (of Knesset Yisrael)
We become Am Yisrael who are awake to Hashem’s voice in reality.

Rain helps us learn how.

And so —
with this new heart,
this new consciousness of shefa
this Shabbat Mevorchim Kislev,
let us prepare to receive.

To breathe.shefa
To feel the barak and the anan.
To feel the kiss of Upper and Lower Waters.
To feel the shefa moving
—not just around us,
but through us:
like rain on thirsty soil…

through the bones,
the cells,
the breath,
the heart.

Rachel Leah❤️
Women Sharing & Supporting each other in the Wellsprings of Pnimius Torah. https://chat.whatsapp.com/ETfGVQDAgqp39KoVMS7Ahq