In the beginning, the Torah says, the world was tohu vavohu — chaos and void. Messy and empty, all at once.

Perhaps that description feels oddly familiar right now. Because sometimes the world — and our hearts — can hold both at the same time. The noise and the silence. The too-much and the not-enough.

Our philosophy of Eilu v’eilu — both these and those — teaches us that multiple, and even conflicting, truths can exist at once. We can be grateful and grieving. Angry and compassionate. Hopeful and heartbroken. Light and dark.

In Bereishit, light didn’t just happen. G-d didn’t wait for it to appear.

Hashem created it — actively, intentionally — out of chaos and emptiness. And then, G-d paused, looked at that light, and said that it was good.

The Torah doesn’t tell us that chaos and void disappeared. They stayed. But in the midst of them, light was made.

Maybe that’s the work we’re called to continue now. To create light — not because the world is already peaceful, but because it isn’t. To bring care and courage into the chaos. To hold one another through the void. To make something good where it doesn’t yet exist.

Making light isn’t about perfection — it’s about showing up, again and again, with whatever we can offer: our hearts, our truths, our colors, our hands. It’s about remembering that the ingredients for creation are still here — even now.

Chaos + Void = Light.

May we never stop believing that we are active creators in the continuous creation of the world.