The More I Think I Have Traveled in My Journey, the More I Realize I Haven’t

I left a synagogue class today contemplative, pensive and somewhat sad.  In preparation for Rosh Hashanah, our class was about Hannah and her relationship with G-d as she angrily approached Him about her need to conceive a son.  The discussion, of course, led to the discussion of being able to experience a personal relationship with G-d and what it truly means to pray.  Feeling as if you are able to open up your soul and your heart and sharing all of your experiences with G-d – those that are prevailing as well as those that are defeating.  Being able to feel connected to G-d no matter where you are, whether it is in Shul, or watching a sunset or in taking a walk in the park, or on your way to work on the train.  Being in a place in life, time and space that enables you to feel connected to something bigger than you – something that has influence on you beyond what you can even comprehend.

I know how far I have come in the past few years, even beyond what I have learned in the educational realm.  I know that I have developed a connection to Judaism beyond the history and traditions.  I know that I feel a connection to my synagogue that I never imagined would be possible.  But what I don’t know is if I will ever have that type of relationship with G-d or even if it’s something  I will even hope to achieve.

This is something that is difficult to say, especially because I know for so many it is automatic.  I have not been brought up to have any real direct connection to G-d and one of the things I have often pondered about is how so many religious people take G-d for granted.  This is something I have always felt envious of, but certainly I also wondered how something so abstract could be taken for granted.

Recently, while sitting is Shabbat Services and feeling so in tune to the service, I had an “ah ha” moment.  With the repetitive nature of the weekly service and the beauty of the words, songs and messages; I suddenly realized that those individuals that were brought up in a synagogue had no reason to question their faith.  It simply was a part of their daily or weekly lives.  Once again I felt the familiar envy and intimidation my religious insecurities often lead to, but at least I now understood the “how” as well as the “why” something so important, yet so abstract, could be accepted without question.

Still, understanding why and how others can accept does little to help me get to that point.  My Rabbi once asked me if I could be at least open to the idea that G-d exists and certainly I am.  I feel as if I am closer to understanding the need to believe that G-d exists, but I don’t know if I will ever get to that point in my life to fully believe and that makes me sad.  I also must admit that I don’t know if I currently feel the need to get to that point in my life and that makes me even sadder. 

My Rabbi also told me once that he used to stop, take deep breaths and allow G-d to enter his life.  I had forgotten that until just now and while I know that I will never pray on a daily basis, this is something I think I am comfortable with and am ready to try.