One of my favorite stories from Chovos Halevavos is that of a certain chasid (as in close to Hashem, since it was written centuries before the Baal Shem Tov was born), who had traveled to a distant country for business. He heard the natives there discussing their gods and he chuckled. Upon noticing this, a native asked him which god he served.

“I serve the one, true God,” said the man. “The One who created the world and takes care of all His creatures.” The native replied that the man’s actions contradicted his words. “Can your God not provide for you at home? Why do you need to travel so far away to this land?” Taken aback by the truth of the native’s words, the man packed up and returned home. He never chased parnasa again, concludes Rabbeinu Bachya.

Presumably, the man no longer chased after it, but rather engaged in business with a healthy measure of bitachon, making appropriate hishtadlus (effort) without believing it was his effort which made the difference. He, therefore, didn’t need to travel far afield or interact with people who could be a bad influence.

This story has made an intense impact on my life and I often think of it when I’m tempted to make “too much” hishtadlus, or forego a mitzvah opportunity for the sake of “parnasa.” However, there are times when I do need to travel for work, and I’m about to tell you about one of them.

Needing to be at two locations in rather remote areas on consecutive days, I drove six hours the day before I needed to be there and took a hotel room. The fellow who checked me in was quite friendly and helpful. I went upstairs and put my things in the room before heading out to a nearby store. When I was up there, I noticed that the room had some issues.

The hotel itself was a bit dated, but I realized that in outlying areas where you probably don’t get many travelers, you’re not going to invest in renovations every two years. I can live with that. However, I noticed that the sheer curtains in the room were literally shredded at the seams—possibly vandalized by a previous guest and the blackout curtains wouldn’t close all the way. On my way out, I showed the pictures I’d taken to the front desk person, who told me he’d leave a note for the manager who would be in at 7 a.m. He was sure she’d want to know about it.

Of course, the sunrise through the open blackout curtains woke me much earlier than planned, and when I went down to find the manager (who arrived late, only as I was walking out) and explained to her what I’d experienced. I’d expected the same shock and apologies I’d had from the front desk clerk, but that was not to be.

Instead, she almost argued with me. She told me that the blackout curtains have a stop they’re not supposed to go past. I explained I was aware of that—but that the stop usually is in the center—not only one-quarter of the way closed, which was my situation. She asked if I wanted to switch rooms but I said I was running to a meeting and didn’t have time to do so. I left.

Upon my return that evening, I found that the sheer curtains had been replaced. The new ones looked like they’d been crumpled in a ball, but they were whole. I also noticed that the blackout shades were now fully drawn in the room. While I was out, they’d taken care of the items that needed to be fixed. However, I wasn’t so excited.

Yes, the manager had done what I asked, but the way she did it felt like it was grudgingly and not with any appreciation for me as a valued guest. I’m the reason she has a job, but she treated me like a burden. Though she’d fixed the room, I was less than happy. I indicated so on the survey they sent me, and I got an apology email from the manager that they hadn’t lived up to my expectations, but without ever realizing that she was the problem! Now, on to the takeaway …

Hashem is the reason we are here on this planet. He provides not only our salaries, but the very air we breathe and the lifeforce in our bodies. When He gives us a list of things He’d like us to do or correct, what will happen if we argue with Him? If we suggest they’re not important, or if we show that we’d rather not have to do what He asks us, how will He feel about the actions and mitzvos we do in that manner? Is it possible that even if Hashem “gets His way,” He might still be disappointed by the way we did them; without joy, without gratitude and, perhaps, with some grumbling?

We’re approaching Elul and Yomim Noraim, when the most important One of all will be completing a survey about our performance. When we do mitzvos we should be thrilled at the opportunity to make Hashem happy, and never look at them like a burden, chas v’shalom.

Now that we know how important it is to try to serve with joy and appreciation, we have a better chance of scoring high and getting a solid approval rating if we do. I’m sure I had this opportunity to see it from the other side, just so I could share this insight with all of you. You may never have to travel from home, but this is a great idea to move on—wherever you are.

Jonathan Gewirtz is an inspirational writer and speaker whose work has appeared in publications around the world. He also operates www.JewishSpeechWriter.com, where you can order a custom-made speech for your next special occasion. Sign up for the Migdal Ohr, his weekly PDF dvar Torah in English. E-mail [email protected] and put “Subscribe” in the subject.