When a Curse Becomes a Blessing

Dear Reader,

Today I was pondering two Hebrew words from the Torah: berachah and qelalah.

In Hebrew, the word for blessing is berachah — from barak, meaning to bless, to kneel, to draw near in gratitude.
The word for curse is qelalah, from qalal, meaning to make something light, to treat it as small or unworthy.
The irony is striking: in the language of the Torah, a curse is not something heavy, but something we have made too light — a moment we have failed to honor, misunderstood, or dismissed as meaningless suffering.

How many times in our lives have we looked at hardship — a loss, a relapse, a rejection, a season of loneliness — and called it a curse? Yet later, with new eyes, we saw that it shaped our faith, deepened our recovery, or drew us closer to our Higher Power. What once seemed to diminish us became the very thing that grounded us.

In Alcoholics Anonymous we read:

“All of us felt at times that we were regaining control, but such intervals—usually brief—were inevitably followed by still less control, which led in time to pitiful and incomprehensible demoralization.”
(Chapter 3, “More About Alcoholism,” p. 30)

That rock bottom of demoralization became the cornerstone of our recovery. Upon that rock, we discovered we could build again — and today, we are blessed with a life second to none.

The Hebrew reminds us that perhaps nothing is truly a curse until we refuse to see its weight — its sacred purpose. Pain is a teacher, and failure is its messenger. What we once thought was the end often becomes the beginning — the moment when grace breaks through our resistance.

As 1 Peter 4:10 teaches, “As every man hath received the gift, even so minister the same one to another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God.”

Every gift — even those wrapped in suffering — becomes a berachah when we receive it with open hands and hearts.
Blessing and curse are often two sides of the same divine act. The difference lies not in what happens to us, but in how we see it. What was once qelalah — made light of — becomes berachah when we kneel in gratitude.

What hardship are you carrying today, and what possibility for blessing might be hidden within it?
Experience continues to show me that grace can turn even pain into purpose. I testify that it can happen for you as well.

Amen.