Note: As part of my conversion process, my rabbi requires that I write my religious autobiography, which is made up of a series of essays. I’m posting these essays here, as well, to share my journey. I’m nearing the end of this process and will soon meet the beit din (rabbinical court) who will decide my Jewish “fate.” If my request for conversion is approved, I’ll then enter the mikveh and, when I emerge, I do so as a Jew.
Here is my first essay in the series, which is all about what compelled me to make this decision.
When starting out on my faith journey in my early twenties, I carried with me the God of my youth. This God was one that, if my prayers were sincere enough, my heart true enough, and my deeds good enough, would grant whatever it was that I wanted. If my prayers weren’t answered, it was because I had sinned or had fallen short of God’s plan for me. God was like a magical ATM in the sky, dispensing money, happiness, and an occasional new car to those that were worthy and devout.
Continue reading “Essay: Why I want to become Jewish”
I’m not in the greatest head space while I write this, but I’m going to write it anyway.
Continue reading “Emotional roller coasters and blood test results”
Let me preface the following paragraphs by saying this – I’m not just writing this to share my thoughts out into the faceless, endless black hole of the internet. I would love comments/thoughts on this topic. I’m inquiring because I’m truly, honestly curious and I want to have a real discussion (not a debate or argument) on this topic.
I’ve made no secret of my spiritual challenges on this blog. I’ve moved around and I’ve left churches and I’ve explored others, and at the end of the day, I end up right where I was when I started – frustrated and confused. Over the past few months, I’ve been too worked up and busy with the move and my role at work to really focus on thing of the spiritual nature, but it’s the holiday season now and things are slowing down. I can breathe again, and I can think about things besides bus tables and traffic patterns and all those other things that dictate my life out here now. Naturally, as we finally get “settled” here, we want to find a home church. It’s important to us, not only for worship but for the community it fosters and that we so desperately need in a region where we have no family and only a few friends.
First, some facts I can deduce from my Christian journey so far:
Continue reading “That bumpy spiritual road”
Author’s note: Post started on 11/12 and finished on 11/14…
The past few weeks have been a flurry of activity, book-ended by mornings that start long before the sun comes up and end hours after it’s already set (which here in the Pacific northwest is at about 4:30pm right now!) During these busy times, I’ve learned a few lessons that I’ve been reflecting on today, which happens to be not only a day when I’m stuck at home with bronchitis while a wind storm rages outside my door, but also my 36th birthday.
Continue reading “Raging winds and lessons learned”
When I was twenty years old, I was on my own for the first time. A chunky white girl moving to a big(ger) town meant I was out of my league without realizing it. I lived in a second story apartment with my newly adopted puppy and I worked the swing shift. I’d just dropped out of culinary school and broken up with the love of my life, so I was ready to experience new things. Life was about living it and I fully intended to experience everything I could. (Oh, the innocence of wide-eyed youth.)
The building sitting across from my apartment held a row of townhouses. In the townhouse closest to my apartment lived a handsome man and his stunning girlfriend. We said hello coming and going and had a generally neighborly relationship. That man had a cousin named Troy, who was gorgeous, fit, and shockingly enough, seemed to be interested in me.
As a fat girl from a small town, I hadn’t had a lot of experience with men. The fact that this smokin’ hot man was interested in me excited me. One night after I came home from work, I was out on the patio reading a book when Troy came out of the townhouse next door. He spoke to me, we flirted for a few minutes, and then he asked me if he could come up. Naively, I said yes.
Continue reading “Why I’m mum on rape culture – a tale of coming out on the other side”
For going on fourteen days now, I have been nothing short of obsessed. I was at work two weeks ago when the first news came out that Malaysian Air flight 370 was missing and since then, my curiosity and confusion and fascination and horror has reached a fever pitch. I check the CNN app on my phone as soon as I wake up in the morning, and I can feel the anticipation brimming inside me as I push that little CNN icon and wait for it to load. I’m full of hope. So much hope. And then I see that there is nothing new, other than more speculation and a few grainy satellite pictures that some claim to show items bobbing in the water but, to me, just look like waves.
Continue reading “Baffled – why I’m obsessed with Flight 370”
When November rolls around every year, there are always two dates on the calendar that matter – my birthday and Thanksgiving. The first grows less significant each year as I reach the age where I start to pretend that I don’t have birthdays at all. The latter, which is a holiday that’s supposed to be filled with gratitude and love and familial closeness, leaves me empty.
Continue reading “Holidays that were”