929 (Tanakh)

I Samuel 9

StandardAugust 2, 2026

Insight

The Chores We Chase: Our Modern Donkeys

If you’ve spent any part of this week searching for a lost shoe, hunting down a matching sock, or driving a child to a practice they swore they wanted to attend but now suddenly dread, welcome to the club. You are in excellent, biblical company. In I Samuel 9:3, we meet Saul, a young man who is literally "head and shoulders" above everyone else, yet his introduction to the grand stage of history doesn't happen at a coronation or a battlefield. It happens on a wild goose chase. His father, Kish, loses his donkeys and tells Saul to take a servant and go find them. Saul wanders through the hill country of Ephraim, passes through Shalishah, traverses Shaalim, and sweeps through the entire territory of Benjamin I Samuel 9:4. He finds absolutely nothing. He is exhausted, frustrated, and ready to quit, worried that his father will stop worrying about the livestock and start worrying about him I Samuel 9:5.

As parents, we live in this "donkey-chasing" space constantly. We invest our precious energy, time, and sanity into tasks that feel entirely mundane, repetitive, and often completely fruitless. We clean kitchen counters that are sticky again ten minutes later. We resolve the same sibling arguments about toy sharing for the fourteenth time in a single afternoon. We feel like we are wandering through our own personal wilderness of "Shalishah and Shaalim," wondering if any of this actually matters. The beautiful, comforting insight of I Samuel 9 is that the mundane chore was never actually about the donkeys. The exhausting, seemingly pointless search was the exact path designed to lead Saul to the prophet Samuel, to his anointing, and to his ultimate destiny. In Jewish parenting, we must bless the chaos of the chase. The daily, unglamorous grind of caring for our families is not an interruption to our "real" spiritual lives; it is our spiritual life. The holy work of raising a soul is forged in the very moments we feel we are just running errands.

The Ancestral Lamp: Small Lights in Dark Alleys

To understand how we survive this daily grind without burning out, we have to look at Saul’s lineage. The text introduces Saul's father, Kish, as a "man of substance" I Samuel 9:1, which Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz clarifies means he was a valiant, capable, and well-respected individual Steinsaltz on I Samuel 9:1. But if we dig deeper into the commentaries, we find an incredible treasure. The Malbim, drawing from ancient rabbinic tradition, notes that Saul’s grandfather, Abiel, had another name: Ner (which means "lamp" or "candle") Malbim on I Samuel 9:1:1. Why was he called Ner? The Midrash explains that Abiel was given this nickname because he would personally go out into the pitch-black, narrow alleys of his town and light oil lamps so that the public would not trip and fall in the dark Radak on I Samuel 9:1:2.

Think about this for a moment. The grandfather of the first king of Israel didn't earn his legendary status through military conquest or public speaking. He earned it by performing a quiet, daily, repetitive task to make his neighborhood just a little bit safer and brighter. He was a literal "alley-lighter." The Malbim points out that this beautiful trait of "lighting up the dark" for others was a family inheritance—a spiritual DNA passed down to Kish and ultimately to Saul Malbim on I Samuel 9:1:1. This is the ultimate parenting metaphor. We often worry that we aren't doing enough "grand" things for our kids. We aren't curating perfect, screen-free, organic, highly educational childhoods. But Jewish wisdom whispers to us: Just light the dark alleys. When you sit with your child in the dark at 3:00 AM because they had a nightmare, you are lighting an alley. When you quietly pack their lunchbox with a little sticky note of encouragement, you are lighting an alley. These micro-wins build a lineage of light. You are passing down a legacy of quiet care that your children will carry into their own futures.

The Gift of "Good-Enough" Humility

When Saul finally encounters the prophet Samuel, he is hit with a shocking revelation: he is the one all of Israel is yearning for I Samuel 9:20. Saul’s response is immediate, visceral, and deeply relatable to any parent who has ever felt out of their depth: "But I am only a Benjaminite, from the smallest of the tribes of Israel, and my clan is the least of all the clans... Why do you say such things to me?" I Samuel 9:21. This is classic imposter syndrome. Saul looks at his lineage, his small tribe, his lack of experience, and thinks, There has been a massive mistake. I am not built for this.

How often do we feel this exact same way as parents? We look at the parenting books, the social media feeds of "perfect" families, or even just our own expectations, and we think, I am from the "smallest clan." I am too tired, too impatient, too disorganized to raise these children well. But the narrative of Saul reminds us that God doesn't call the equipped; God equips the called. You don't have to be a perfect, flawless monarch to guide your home. In fact, Saul’s very humility—his willingness to listen to his servant’s advice to seek out the seer I Samuel 9:10, and his lack of arrogance—is precisely what made him fit for the role. The Malbim explains that Saul actually let his servant take the lead on their journey, showing his deep humility Malbim on I Samuel 9:10:1. In our homes, we don't need to be all-knowing, infallible rulers. We can be "good-enough" parents who are willing to say, "I don't know the answer, let's figure it out together," or "I made a mistake, and I'm sorry." This vulnerability doesn't diminish our authority; it builds a bridge of trust with our children.

When the Mundane Meets the Holy

The climax of Saul’s search is beautiful in its simplicity. He thinks he is looking for lost donkeys; Samuel reveals that the donkeys have already been found, and now it is time for Saul to find himself I Samuel 9:20. The physical search had to happen to get Saul to the place where his soul could be awakened.

As parenting coaches, we want to help you reframe your daily frustrations. The next time you are searching for the lost car keys, cleaning up the spilled cereal, or navigating a chaotic bedtime, try to take a deep breath and tell yourself: This is my donkey search. It is not a waste of time. It is the necessary, earthly scaffolding upon which your family’s holiness is being built. You are teaching your children how to handle frustration, how to navigate disappointment, and how to keep walking even when the path is circular. By showing up to the mundane chores with patience and a touch of humor, you are showing them that the journey itself is where we meet the Divine.


Text Snapshot

"Once the donkeys of Saul’s father Kish went astray, and Kish said to his son Saul, 'Take along one of the servants and go out and look for the donkeys.' He passed into the hill country of Ephraim... but they did not find them... When they reached the district of Zuph, Saul said to the servant... 'Let us turn back, or my father will stop worrying about the donkeys and begin to worry about us.'" — I Samuel 9:3-5


Activity

The Ten-Minute "Donkey Hunt & Spark" Game

This is a playful, low-prep, high-connection game designed to help children (and parents!) experience the shift from frustration to connection. It mirrors Saul’s journey: searching for something lost, experiencing the "not finding," and ultimately discovering something much better—connection and appreciation.

Step 1: The Setup (2 Minutes)

  • What you need: 3 to 5 small, everyday items. These can be actual toy animals (like plastic donkeys), colorful socks, or even simple sticky notes with quick smiley faces drawn on them. We will call these our "lost donkeys."
  • The framing: Gather your child or children. Keep your tone light and mysterious.
  • Say this: "You know how sometimes we lose things in this house—like shoes, toys, or even our patience? Well, thousands of years ago, a future king named Saul lost his father's donkeys. He searched everywhere and felt totally frustrated. Today, we have some 'lost donkeys' in this room. I’m going to hide them, and we are going to go on a quick hunt. But there’s a twist!"
  • The hide: Have your children close their eyes while you quickly hide the items around the room. Make a couple of them very easy to find, and one of them intentionally tricky (but not impossible) to find.

Step 2: The Search (5 Minutes)

  • The hunt is on: Set a timer on your phone for 4 minutes. Let them search.
  • Coaching through the frustration: As they search, pay close attention to their emotional state.
    • If they find the easy ones quickly, celebrate! "You found a donkey! Just like Saul passing through the first town!"
    • When they struggle to find the "tricky" hidden item, this is your coaching sweet spot. Instead of immediately pointing to it, validate the frustration.
    • Say this: "It’s hard when we search and search and can't find what we’re looking for, isn't it? That’s exactly how Saul felt when he wanted to give up. Take a deep breath. Let's look together. We are team searchers."
  • The discovery: Help them find the final item together, celebrating the cooperative effort.

Step 3: The "Alley-Lighter" Spark Ceremony (3 Minutes)

  • The transition: Sit down on the floor together with the found "donkeys."
  • The meaning-making: Explain the concept of Saul's grandfather, Abiel, who was called Ner (the lamp-lighter) because he lit up dark, scary alleys so people wouldn't trip Radak on I Samuel 9:1:2.
  • Say this: "We found our donkeys! But the coolest part of the story is that Saul’s grandfather was famous for lighting up dark pathways for other people. In our family, we can be 'alley-lighters' too. When we do small, kind things, we light up the room."
  • The micro-praise: Ask your child: "Can you think of one small thing someone in this house did today that made you feel happy or helped you? That was them lighting a lamp for you."
  • Share your own observation of them: "Today, when you [insert a small, real action, e.g., shared your toy / put your shoes away / gave me a hug], you were lighting up a dark alley for me. You have that same light inside you."

Why This Works: The Psychology of the Hunt

This activity works on multiple levels. First, it externalizes the feeling of frustration. By intentionally creating a minor, controlled "struggle" (the tricky-to-find item) and guiding them through it with co-regulation, you are building their frustration tolerance. Second, it shifts their focus from material acquisition (finding the toy) to relational appreciation (the "Spark Ceremony"). By connecting their small, daily positive behaviors to an ancient, honorable family legacy (Abiel the lamp-lighter), you are shaping their identity. They begin to see themselves not just as kids who make messes, but as "alley-lighters" who carry a legacy of kindness.

Customizing for Your Family's Energy Level

  • For Toddlers: Keep the hiding places incredibly obvious. The focus is purely on the joy of discovery and receiving the warm praise of "You are my little light-bringer!"
  • For Older Kids (Ages 8-12): Make the hiding spots genuinely challenging. You can even let them hide the "donkeys" for you. When you search and struggle, model healthy frustration management out loud: "Ugh, I can't find this anywhere! I feel like quitting. But I'm going to take a breath and try one more spot." This is invaluable social modeling.

Script

The Scenario: The "I'm Not Good Enough" Meltdown

Your child is facing a challenge—it could be a difficult math worksheet, a sports tryout, making a new friend, or trying to clean up a disastrously messy bedroom. They throw their hands up in the air, slump their shoulders, and experience a wave of imposter syndrome, much like Saul’s "smallest clan" response I Samuel 9:21. They look at you and say:

"I can't do this. I'm not smart enough/brave enough/good at this. Everyone else is better than me."

Here is a 30-second, compassionate script designed to validate their feelings, ground them, and gently remind them of their inner strength, followed by a breakdown of why it works.


The 30-Second Script

"Oh, sweetie. I hear you. It feels so heavy and overwhelming right now, and it’s totally okay to feel frustrated. You know, even the very first king of Israel, Saul, looked at a big job and said, 'Who, me? I'm from the smallest family, I can't do this!' It is totally normal to feel small when we are facing something big.

But you don't have to be perfect at this right now. You just have to take one small step. Let’s take a deep breath together. I am right here with you, and we can figure out the very first tiny step together. You have a quiet strength inside you, just like your ancestors did. Let's do this one little piece together."


Line-by-Line Breakdown: Why It Works

"Oh, sweetie. I hear you. It feels so heavy and overwhelming right now, and it’s totally okay to feel frustrated."

  • The Coaching Magic: This is immediate validation. When a child is in a state of emotional distress, their amygdala (the emotional center of the brain) is highly active. If we jump straight into logic ("Of course you're smart! You got an A last week!"), their brain perceives it as a denial of their reality, which can escalate the meltdown. By naming the feeling ("heavy," "overwhelming," "frustrated") and giving them permission to feel it, you help soothe their nervous system.

"You know, even the very first king of Israel, Saul, looked at a big job and said, 'Who, me? I'm from the smallest family, I can't do this!' It is totally normal to feel small when we are facing something big."

  • The Coaching Magic: This normalizes and universalizes their experience. Children often believe they are the only ones who feel weak, scared, or inadequate. By connecting their modern struggle to an ancient, heroic figure like King Saul I Samuel 9:21, you take the shame out of their vulnerability. If a great king felt small, then it’s okay for them to feel small too.

"But you don't have to be perfect at this right now. You just have to take one small step."

  • The Coaching Magic: This lowers the stakes and defeats the "all-or-nothing" perfectionist mindset. Saul didn't have to build a kingdom on day one; he just had to walk up the hill to meet Samuel I Samuel 9:11. By reframing the massive, terrifying goal into "one small step," you make the task manageable for their developing executive functioning.

"Let’s take a deep breath together. I am right here with you, and we can figure out the very first tiny step together."

  • The Coaching Magic: This is co-regulation. You are offering your calm nervous system to help settle theirs. The phrase "I am right here with you" removes the isolation of the struggle. You aren't leaving them to drown in their frustration; you are stepping into the "alley" with them to help light the way.

"You have a quiet strength inside you, just like your ancestors did. Let's do this one little piece together."

  • The Coaching Magic: This is identity-level encouragement. Instead of praising their innate intelligence (which can actually increase performance anxiety), you are praising their character and their lineage of resilience. You are reminding them of who they are and where they come from.

Habit

The Micro-Habit: Blessing the "Donkey Chase"

In the rush of daily life, we cannot avoid chores, messes, or lost items. The habit this week is not about adding anything new to your already overflowing to-do list. Instead, it’s about changing your internal relationship to the chaos that is already happening. We call this "Blessing the Donkey Chase."

How to Anchor It in Your Day

Choose one recurring, mundane, or frustrating parenting task that you do every single day. It might be:

  • Wiping down the kitchen table or counters.
  • Matching and folding tiny socks from the laundry basket.
  • Buckling your child into their car seat while they wiggle.
  • Picking up discarded toys from the living room floor before bed.

When you find yourself in the middle of this task, pause for exactly three seconds. Take one deep breath, place your hand on your heart (or just notice your feet on the floor), and say this silent, mental blessing to yourself:

"This is my donkey chase. I am lighting the alley right now."

Why This Micro-Habit is Life-Changing

This simple pause acts as a cognitive circuit breaker. It takes you out of the frantic, reactive "fight-or-flight" stress state and anchors you in the present moment. It reframes a frustrating chore into a quiet moment of holy service. You are reminding yourself that by performing this small, repetitive task, you are literally walking the path of Abiel Radak on I Samuel 9:1:2—quietly lighting the pathways of your home so that your children can walk safely, grow beautifully, and eventually find their own way.


Takeaway

Parenting is rarely about grand coronation ceremonies; it is built on a thousand quiet searches for lost donkeys. When you light up the dark, frustrating moments of family life with patience, validation, and love, you are laying the foundation for your child's future greatness. Bless your daily chase—you are doing a holy, beautiful, and "good-enough" job.