Every so often, my phone sends me a notification from Google Photos: "Rediscover this day" or "A look back." It pulls together pictures from years ago—sometimes from a vacation or a holiday, but just as often from an ordinary afternoon I had completely forgotten.
What always surprises me is not the photos themselves. It's the people.
A teacher I haven't seen in years. A friend I've lost touch with. A place I hadn't thought about in a long time. Sometimes I find myself wondering, I haven't thought about that moment in ages. Why did this one come back today?
And then, almost without fail, I realize that the photo isn't reminding me of a single day. It's reminding me of everything that led to and came after that day. A conversation that became a friendship. An opportunity that changed the direction of my life. A seemingly ordinary moment that I didn't know, at the time, would become part of my story.
This week's Torah portion, Matot-Masei, feels a bit like God's Google photo album.
The Torah recounts all forty-two places where the Israelites camped during their journey through the wilderness. It's a long list of names, many of which are never mentioned anywhere else. Some locations are connected to dramatic moments. Most are not. They were simply places where the Israelites lived for a while before moving on.
Why preserve them?
Perhaps because our lives are shaped not only by the milestones we celebrate, but also by the ordinary moments we almost forget. We rarely know, in real time, which conversations, relationships, or experiences will become turning points. Only when we look back do we begin to see the thread connecting one stop to the next.
As we prepare for Shabbat and the weekend ahead of us, I invite you to reflect on or even discuss with someone in your life:
When you look back on your life, what is one ordinary moment that you now realize changed everything?
Maybe it was a chance meeting. Maybe it was accepting an invitation you almost declined. Maybe it was a conversation that didn't seem remarkable until years later.
The Israelites couldn't see where every stop in the wilderness was leading. Neither can we.
But one of the gifts of reflection is discovering that even the moments we thought were ordinary were quietly preparing us for where we are today.