Devarim Rabbah, a collection of homiletic teachings on the Book of Deuteronomy, offers a powerful and surprising answer, focusing on God's relationship with the Israelites during their forty years in the desert.

Rabbi Yehuda asks us to consider something profound: Usually, when a parent has a child who constantly upsets them, they might, in anger, push that child away. It's a harsh reality, but an honest one. But, Rabbi Yehuda points out, the Holy One, blessed be He, isn't like that at all. Even though the Israelites angered Him repeatedly during their forty years wandering in the wilderness, He continued to bear with them. Where do we see this? In the verse from Deuteronomy (1:31): “In the wilderness, where you saw that the Lord your God bore you [asher nesaakha] as a man would bear his son."

Think about that for a moment. The word nesaakha carries so much weight. It means to carry, to bear, to endure. God is portrayed not as a distant, judgmental figure, but as a loving parent patiently carrying their child through a difficult journey.

But it gets even more interesting. Reish Lakish offers another interpretation of asher nesaakha. He doesn't just see it as God bearing the Israelites, but as God elevating them. He says God exalted them, even rendered them like deities! As the verse in Psalms (82:6) says, "I had said: You are divine." It’s a mind-blowing concept, isn't it? That even in their moments of rebellion and doubt, God saw the potential for greatness within them.

Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai takes the analogy even further. He compares God's care to that of a parent nursing a child. Typically, a parent might hire a maidservant or a wet nurse for two or three years. But God's nurturing goes far beyond that. "And until old age I am He, and until gray hairs I will carry you," says God in Isaiah (46:4). "I made and I will bear; I will carry and I will rescue."

It's a promise of unwavering support and love, a commitment that transcends the typical parent-child relationship. God isn't just there for the first few years; He's there for the long haul, through old age and beyond.

And the reward? The Holy One, blessed be He, says, ‘My children, just as I exalted you in this world, so, I will exalt you and honor [umeyaker] you in the future.’" This idea of yakar, of honor and preciousness, shines through. God sees the Israelites as precious, as a yakir, a dear son, as Jeremiah (31:19) puts it: "Ephraim is a dear [yakir] son to Me…"

So, what does this all mean for us? Perhaps it's a reminder that even when we stumble, when we anger the Divine, we are still carried, still loved, still seen as having the potential for greatness. Maybe it's a call to see ourselves, and each other, with a little more compassion, recognizing the divine spark within us all, even when it's hidden beneath layers of imperfection. And maybe, just maybe, it's an invitation to trust in a love that endures, that elevates, and that promises to carry us through to the very end.