On this day, King Hezekiah, the greatest of all the Judeaen kings, fell seriously ill, and was informed by the Prophet Isaiah that he would die, for G-d was displeased with the fact that Hezekiah had never married.
Hezekiah had refused to get married because he had prophetically foreseen that his children would lead the Jewish people to sin. He erred, for it is man's job to heed the commandment of procreating, and the rest is in the hands of G-d.
Hezekiah asked the prophet to pray on his behalf, but he refused, insisting that the Heavenly decree was final. The king asked the prophet to leave, saying that he had a tradition from his ancestors that one should never despair, even if a sharp sword is drawn across one's throat. The king prayed to G-d, and his prayer was accepted. G-d sent Isaiah to tell him that he would recover and that his life would be extended for fifteen years. Hezekiah recovered three days later, on the first day of Passover.
The King later married Prophet Isaiah's daughter.
Links:
Hezekiah's Last Years of Reign
The story in Kings II with commentary
More about King Hezekiah
A year following the building of the second Temple in Jerusalem (see Jewish History for the 3rd of Adar) Ezra gathered many of the Jews who had remained in Babylon and began a journey to the land of Israel. Though he certainly wanted to go earlier, his teacher, Baruch ben Neriah was too frail to travel, and Ezra refused to leave him until his passing.
Ezra was the head of the Sanhedrin, who all traveled together with him.
On the 12th of Nissan, Ezra departed from the river of Ahava, the beginning of the long journey to the land of Israel which would last for nearly five months (see Jewish history for the 1st of Av).
In today's "Nasi" reading (see "Nasi of the Day" in Nissan 1), we read of the gift bought by the nasi of the tribe of Naftali, Achira ben Enan, for the inauguration of the Mishkan.
Your mind is held hostage and cannot speak with your heart.
That is how the master of the Kabbalah, the Ari, describes the enslavement of Ancient Egypt as it plays out within the human soul.
You understand very well how you should be. You envision all that you could become. But your heart does not hear of it, and runs wild.
So nothing changes. You remain a mindless slave to the moment.
Indeed, the Hebrew letters that spell Pharaoh are the same as those for the Hebrew word oref, "the back of the neck."
Pharaoh grabs you from the back of your neck and strangles your wisdom.
He hijacks your mind so your thoughts are devoted to building pointless structures up to the sky, chasing ephemeral pleasures, wasting time on nonsense, and swelling the ego, not allowing more than a trickle of your higher mind to enter your dry, sleeping heart.
How will you escape?
Go out of yourself and do something purely good, a mitzvah that feels far beyond your self-image.
Forget yourself, the limits of your understanding, the coldness of your heart.
Wrapped together within a light utterly beyond them all, mind, body, heart and soul will surrender and bond in perfect union.
With one small deed, you have liberated yourself from bondage.