Day 121

Dear God/What(who)ever runs the universe,

I don’t like you right now. Actually, to be quite honest, I sort of hate you. The last 30 days have left me completely drained of energy. I was reminded of the time after Grandma died, when the bad things just kept coming, with no end in sight. I was so angry with you then, angry enough to quit going to church and shun religion for over a decade. I thought you and I were finally back on good terms, which isn’t to say that the past few years have been void of problems, but I was willing to work through them because of the community I came into that gave me the strength to do so. I don’t know what to do anymore.

There have been times when I have paused to think about all the good that has come into my life, only to be overcome with the fear that it will all be taken away. I don’t know what to think anymore. I’m trying to work through this difficult time or at least not let it drag me down, but it’s so hard. Sometimes I’m afraid I’ve been much too open with people and I can feel myself retreating back into my protective shell. Other times I chastise myself for being too guarded, too distrustful of people to ever let anyone in completely.

I feel lost right now. I look at my life so far and I can see the good, but I can also see the clear-cut voids, voids that I’m not sure will ever be filled. I don’t like feeling lost, I want to know there is a path for me, that all these things, good and bad, that have happened will contribute to something that will change at least one life.

I used to think I would be a child psychologist, then a police officer, then a librarian, then a rabbi, then at least a Jewish educator. I see the world differently than most people, which gives me a unique perspective that can be helpful, but it also makes me feel very alone. I don’t remember a time when I felt completely comfortable and felt like I fit in; in fact, I’ve spent most of my life trying to blend into the crowd.

I don’t go to services often. I attended Shacharit this morning for the first time, more out of a sense of obligation rather than a genuine desire to go, but I am sort of glad I did. It was a powerful experience sitting in a room with hundreds of like-minded social justice advocates, singing and sharing, but like all of the (admittedly few) services I’ve attended, it made me more sad than anything. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because I find myself almost begging you to give me the strength to keep going and not run away, to shine some light on the path I should be taking. However, I know that, as a Jew, I can pray to you but it’s up to me to take those steps forward, but I am exhausted and I need help.

Please give me strength. That’s all I ask.