Trusting the One Who Walks Beside Us

by Rami ben Ze'ev

The Antidote to Anxiety

Trusting the One Who Walks Beside Us

Earlier, I came across a post:

“One cause of anxiety and anguish is low self-esteem. When one feels worthless or unremarkable, depression is not far off.”

There is certainly truth in that observation. A person who sees little value in themselves can become overwhelmed by feelings of inadequacy, fear, and despair. Yet it reminded me of a lesson taught to me years ago by my Rabbi, a lesson that has remained with me.

We were discussing anxiety, worry, and the uncertainty of life. Like most people, I had concerns about the future and all the “what ifs” that so easily occupy the mind. My Rabbi listened patiently and then responded with a simple question.

“What if you knew someone whom you trusted implicitly? Someone who always had your back and always looked out for your best interests. Not what you thought you needed, but what He knew you needed and what was truly best for you. Someone who looked upon you as a loving father looks upon His children. Someone who protected you always and only asked for your trust in return.”

Then he paused and said:

“That is G-D. In that scenario, how is anxiety even possible?”

The question was rhetorical, but its message was profound.

From a Torah perspective, anxiety and faith are deeply connected. The more a person believes that everything is random, dependent solely upon their own efforts, or controlled by forces beyond their understanding, the more room there is for worry. Conversely, the deeper one’s אמונה (emunah – faith) and בטחון (bitachon – trust in G-D), the less reason there is to fear the future.

This does not mean that every anxious person lacks faith. Human beings face genuine difficulties: grief, illness, financial pressure, trauma, uncertainty, and loss. Anxiety can arise from many sources. Yet the Torah teaches that the ultimate antidote to worry is not merely higher self-esteem, but greater trust in the One who governs all things.

The teachings of Tanya point in this direction. A person may have shortcomings, struggle spiritually, or even feel insignificant at times. Yet despair is never the answer, because the soul itself is a portion of the Divine. Our worth does not come from believing that we are great. It comes from recognising whose children we are.

My Rabbi’s example captures the essence of בטחון. If a person truly believed that G-D directs every event for their ultimate good, even when they cannot understand it, then anxiety would lose much of its power.

The difficulty is that faith is easy in retrospect and much harder in the moment.

When bills arrive, when a doctor gives troubling news, when a child is struggling, when a business faces uncertainty, or when the future appears clouded, the mind immediately asks, “What will happen?”

Faith responds differently:

“The One who brought me to this moment is already in the next moment.”

This is why the author of Tehillim taught us to cast our burden upon the L-RD and He will sustain us. Not because life contains no difficulties, but because no difficulty is carried alone.

In that sense, I would distinguish between two causes of anxiety.

Low self-esteem may contribute to anxiety because a person doubts themselves.

Lack of בטחון may contribute to anxiety because a person doubts G-D.

The first asks, “Am I capable enough?”

The second asks, “Is G-D capable enough?”

The Torah answer is that our own abilities are limited, but G-D’s abilities are not.

The more deeply a person internalises that truth, the more anxiety gives way to trust, worry gives way to peace, and fear gives way to faith.

Perhaps that is why the greatest remedy for anxiety is not found in looking inward at ourselves, but upward toward Heaven. For when a person truly knows that G-D is watching over them, guiding them, protecting them, and directing their path according to His perfect wisdom, anxiety begins to lose its hold.

After all, if the King of the Universe has your back, what is there to fear?

When Faith Meets Fear

Not long after learning the lesson from my Rabbi about anxiety and trust in G-D, I found myself in a situation where those words would be tested.

It was early in the morning, just before dawn. The streets were quiet and deserted. As I walked, my thoughts were occupied with the day ahead, the tasks before me, and the destination toward which I was headed.

In the distance, I noticed a man emerge from a side street on the same side of the road as me.

To describe his movement as walking would perhaps be generous. He stumbled as he moved forward. Whether he was intoxicated, ill, or simply not fully in control of himself, I could not say. What I could see was that his path was uncertain.

As he drew nearer, I decided it would be prudent to cross the street and give him a wide berth. There seemed no reason to take unnecessary risks.

I stepped off the kerb and began crossing.

Then something unexpected happened.

As I reached the middle of the road, the man also crossed.

Now he was heading in my direction.

The distance between us continued to close until we were perhaps fifty feet apart.

For a brief moment, I wondered what I should do. Should I return to my original side of the street? Should I continue forward? Had I misjudged the situation?

Then, almost immediately, I remembered the words of my Rabbi.

“What if you knew someone whom you trusted implicitly? Someone who always had your back and always looked out for your best interests.”

In that moment, I quietly recited the שמע (Shema – Hear, O Israel).

There was no dramatic display. No flash of light. No voice from Heaven.

Yet what happened next remains with me to this day.

As though guided by an unseen hand, the man suddenly altered his course. Rather than continuing toward me, he moved diagonally across the road and returned to the side of the street where we had both originally been.

A few moments later, he passed by without incident.

Our paths never crossed.

As he disappeared into the distance, I quietly whispered: “תודה לאל”

Thank G-D.

Some will say it was coincidence.

Perhaps it was.

Others will say that the man simply changed his mind.

Perhaps he did.

But that morning was never really about the man.

It was about fear.

It was about the choice between anxiety and trust.

Before reciting the שמע, my thoughts were focused on what might happen. After reciting it, my attention shifted to the One who controls what happens.

The situation itself may not have changed immediately, but my perspective certainly did.

That is the power of אמונה (emunah – faith) and בטחון (bitachon – trust in G-D). They do not require us to deny reality, ignore danger, or abandon common sense. I still crossed the street. I still acted prudently.

What they change is the belief that we walk through the world alone.

That morning reminded me of something profound: wisdom tells us to take sensible precautions, but faith reminds us that beyond every precaution stands G-D Himself.

And when a person truly remembers that, anxiety begins to loosen its grip, and trust takes its place.

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Bill White (Rami ben Ze'ev) is CEO of Jewish Dispatch Limited, Mayside Partners Limited, MEADHANAN Agency, Kestrel Assets Limited, SpudsToGo Limited and Executive Director of Hebrew Synagogue