929 (Tanakh)
I Samuel 10
In another voice
Insight
From Lost Donkeys to Sacred Royalty
Parenting, at its core, is a series of mundane errands that suddenly escalate into spiritual callings. One minute you are looking for a lost shoe, a missing permission slip, or a clean pair of socks—not unlike Saul, who set out on a simple, frustrating chore to find his father’s stray donkeys as described in I Samuel 10:2. The next minute, you are staring into the eyes of a small, fragile human being who is looking to you for absolute guidance, emotional safety, and the blueprint of how to be a person in this world. You have been thrust into the "kingship" of parenting, anointing-oil dripping down your forehead, while you are still mentally trying to locate the metaphorical donkeys. It is an overwhelming transition. We rarely feel prepared for the crown we are handed when we bring a child home. We look at our own flaws, our lack of patience, our messy houses, and our internal struggles, and we think, They made a mistake. I am not the ruler of this household; I am just a person who can't find the laundry detergent.
The Secret Anointing of Daily Parenting
According to the great commentator Malbim on I Samuel 10:1, Samuel’s decision to anoint Saul in private, away from the eyes of the public, was a deliberate act of protection and preparation. Had Saul been anointed in public, the people would have suspected the later lottery was rigged, doubting his legitimacy. But more deeply, the Malbim notes that the physical act of the kiss (itdabkut rucha b'rucha—the cleaving of spirit to spirit) was what brought a flow of holiness to prepare Saul’s inner world for what was to come. In parenting, your "anointing" is almost entirely private. There are no cheering crowds when you stay up at 3:00 AM rocking a teething toddler, nor is there a coronation ceremony when you successfully navigate a teenage meltdown without losing your temper. It is a quiet, hidden process. Radak on I Samuel 10:1 points out that Saul was anointed with a fragile clay flask (pach) of persimmon oil, rather than the sturdy horn (keren) of holy oil used for David. This flask represents a temporary, fragile state—a beautiful reminder that our daily parenting does not have to be cast in unbreakable bronze to be holy. It is okay if our patience feels fragile, like clay. The holiness is in the attempt, in the quiet, unseen moments of connection where your spirit touches your child's spirit.
Hiding in the Baggage of Overwhelm
When the moment comes for Saul to be presented to the nation, he does what many of us long to do when the pressure of parenting peaks: he hides. As the text beautifully captures, when the lottery points to him, he is nowhere to be found because "he is hiding among the baggage" I Samuel 10:22. The "baggage" of our lives is real. It is the literal clutter of toys, the mountain of unfolded laundry, the endless emails, and the heavy emotional baggage of our own upbringings. We hide in our phones, we hide in our busyness, and we hide behind the screen of perfectionism because standing up to be "the leader" feels too exposing. We worry that if our children truly see us, they will realize we are just winging it. Ralbag on I Samuel 10:1 teaches that God gave Saul specific signs to build his self-belief because Saul had no prior experience with leadership or prophecy. If you feel unqualified, you are in excellent biblical company. The Torah does not demand that you start as a perfect leader; it simply asks you to step out from behind the baggage when your name is called.
Receiving Another Heart
The turning point of the narrative occurs in I Samuel 10:9, where we read that as Saul turned to leave Samuel, "God gave him another heart." He did not receive a new brain, a new set of skills, or a different personality. He received a new heart—a capacity for empathy, courage, and resilience that he did not possess when he was just a donkey-hunter. This is the ultimate reassurance for Jewish parents. You do not need to become a completely different person to be the parent your child needs. You do not need to read fifty parenting books or adopt a flawless, serene persona. When you commit to the journey of parenting, when you step out of your comfort zone to care for this soul, God meets you there and expands your capacity to love. You are given "another heart"—one that can stretch to hold the joy, the chaos, the fear, and the absolute wonder of raising a child. Even on the days when you feel like you are failing, remember that your heart is being quietly reshaped, day by day, kiss by kiss, into the heart of a parent.
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Text Snapshot
"They inquired of God again, 'Has anyone else come here?' And God replied, 'Yes; he is hiding among the baggage.' So they ran over and brought him from there; and when he took his place among the people, he stood a head taller than all the people." — I Samuel 10:22-23
Activity
The Cozy Baggage Fort: A 10-Minute Ritual of Transition
This activity is designed to help you and your child transition from the "chore and task" mode of the day (looking for donkeys) to "connection and safety" mode (strengthening the heart). It playfully embraces the concept of "hiding in the baggage" and turns it into a warm, safe space for emotional refueling.
Materials Needed
- 2 or 3 large blankets or bedsheets.
- A few couch cushions or pillows.
- A flashlight or the light from your phone.
- A small, pleasant-scelling lotion or essential oil (like lavender or chamomile), referencing the "sweet-smelling persimmon oil" (shemen afarsimon) used to anoint Saul.
Step-by-Step Instructions
1. Build the "Baggage Fort" (3 Minutes)
Do not aim for architectural perfection here; bless the chaos of a messy room. Quickly drape the blankets over a table, a couple of chairs, or the side of a couch to create a small, dark, enclosed "cave." Call it the "Baggage Fort." Tell your child, "Today, we are going to hide from all the chores, the homework, and the busy world, just like King Saul did!"
2. Enter the Hideout (2 Minutes)
Crawl inside the fort together with your child. Turn off the main room lights and turn on your flashlight or phone light inside the fort. Sit close enough that your shoulders touch. Take three deep, slow breaths together. Tell your child, "Inside this fort, there are no donkeys to find, no rooms to clean, and nothing we have to do. It’s just you and me."
3. The "New Heart" Anointing (3 Minutes)
Squeeze a tiny drop of the pleasant-smelling lotion or oil into your palm. Rub your hands together to warm them up. Ask your child if you can gently rub a little lotion onto the back of their hands or their wrists. As you do this, share a specific "micro-win" you noticed about them today. Say something like:
- "I'm putting this sweet-smelling oil on your hands because today I saw you use these hands to share your toys/help your sister/build that amazing tower. You have a giant, beautiful heart."
- If your child is older, you can gently massage their shoulders for thirty seconds, acknowledging how hard they work at school or sports, letting them relax under your touch.
4. The Spirit-to-Spirit Hug (2 Minutes)
Before you crawl out of the fort, give your child a warm, firm hug. Hold it for at least twenty seconds. In psychology, this is known as "co-regulation"—it physically matches your heart rate and nervous system to theirs, echoing the Malbim's concept of itdabkut rucha b'rucha (spirit cleaving to spirit). Let them feel your heartbeat. Tell them, "Whenever you feel overwhelmed or want to hide, remember you can always find your safe space right here with me."
Why This Works (The Psychological & Spiritual Magic)
This activity works because it reframes "hiding" from a sign of weakness or avoidance into a healthy, shared ritual of pause. Children often feel overwhelmed by the demands of school, peer groups, and parental expectations. By joining them "among the baggage," you show them that you are not afraid of their overwhelm or their desire to retreat. The physical touch, paired with the sensory experience of the scented lotion and the close quarters of the fort, stimulates the release of oxytocin, lowering stress levels for both of you. You are modeling how to step back, catch your breath, and receive "another heart" before stepping back out into the world.
Adaptations for Different Ages
For Toddlers and Preschoolers
Keep the language extremely simple. Focus on the physical play of hiding and revealing ("Where is [Name]? Oh, there they are!"). Use the lotion as a fun sensory game, naming their fingers and toes as you apply it, telling them how much you love every single part of them.
For Older Kids and Tweens
You don't need to build a physical fort if they feel "too old" for it. Instead, invite them to sit with you in a car parked in the driveway, or under a cozy blanket on the couch with the lights dimmed. Replace the word "Baggage Fort" with "The Sanctuary." Skip the playful hiding and focus on the shoulder rub or hand massage, letting them talk about whatever is stressing them out without trying to fix it—just listen.
Script
The Scenario: Hiding from the Spotlight
Your child is feeling completely overwhelmed by a new challenge—perhaps it is starting a new school year, joining a sports team, going to a social event where they don't know many people, or facing a difficult assignment. They are showing signs of avoidance: they are melting down, refusing to get dressed, or literally hiding under their bedcovers, crying, "I can't do this! Everyone else is better than me! I just want to stay home!"
You feel the pressure rising in your own chest. Your inner "donkey-hunter" wants to yell, drag them out of bed, and lecture them about resilience. Instead, you are going to take a breath, remember Saul hiding in the baggage, and use this script to meet them where they are.
The 30-Second Script
"Hey. I see you under there, and I want you to know it is completely okay that you are hiding. Honestly, if I could fit under those covers with you, I’d crawl right in. It is really scary when we feel like we’re being pushed into something big and we don't feel ready. You don't have to be perfect at this, and you don't have to feel brave right now. I love you when you're feeling strong, and I love you when you just need to hide in the baggage. Let’s just sit here together for one minute. We don't have to solve anything yet. I’m right here, and we will take the very first step together whenever you're ready."
The Emotional Prep for You (The Parent)
Before you speak these words, you must regulate your own nervous system. Your child's anxiety is triggering your own fear of failure ("If my kid can't handle this, I am a bad parent"). Remind yourself of the Radak’s teaching: your parenting is a pach—a fragile, beautiful clay flask, not an unyielding horn of steel. It is okay if this moment feels messy. Your goal is not to force them out of the room immediately; your goal is to let them know that their fear does not scare you.
Why This Script Works: The Deeper Psychology
- Validation of the Hideout: By saying "it is completely okay that you are hiding," you instantly remove the shame. Shame paralyzes; validation releases. You are aligning with their current reality rather than fighting it.
- Shared Humanity: Telling them you would crawl in with them if you could builds an instant bridge of empathy. It shows them that hiding is a universal human response to overwhelm, not a personal defect.
- Removing the Pressure of "Kingship": By stating "you don't have to feel brave right now," you lower the stakes. Saul didn't feel brave when he was in the baggage; he became brave after he was brought out and supported.
- Time-Boxing the Panic: "Let’s just sit here together for one minute" gives the child's amygdala a chance to cool down. It signals to their brain that there is no immediate, life-or-death threat.
Troubleshooting and Follow-Up Questions
- If they scream, "Go away!": Do not take it personally. Say, "I hear you. I’m going to sit right outside your door so you know I’m close. I’m not going anywhere." This maintains safety while respecting their boundaries.
- If they ask, "But what if I fail?": Gently reply, "Then we will fail together, and we will figure out what to do next. There is nothing you can do that would make me love you any less."
Habit
The Persimmon Pause
This week, establish the micro-habit of The Persimmon Pause before you transition from your workday to your parenting day, or before you walk through your front door.
How to Do It
- The Trigger: When you place your hand on the doorknob of your home, or when you close your laptop to end your work session.
- The Action: Pause for exactly ten seconds. Take one deep breath. Gently squeeze your own shoulders or place a hand over your heart.
- The Mental Whisper: Say to yourself: "The donkeys have been found. I am stepping into my kingdom now. God, give me another heart."
This tiny, ten-second ritual honors the transitions of your day. It allows you to leave the "baggage" of your work, your stress, and your endless to-do lists at the door, so you can walk into your home with a heart that is ready to connect, to love, and to bless the beautiful chaos of your family.
Takeaway
You do not need to be a perfect, towering leader to run a beautiful Jewish home. When the daily grind of parenting makes you want to hide among the baggage, remember that even Israel’s first king started his journey looking for lost donkeys and hiding in the luggage. Step out, take a breath, and trust that you have been given exactly the heart you need for the children you love. You are doing a wonderful job. Bless the chaos, and go find your micro-win today.
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