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My journal about my conversion to Judaism. |
There are holidays that people attend worship only on that day. The second day of Rosh Hashanah was one of those days. I woke up a little after 6, but since I felt like a bother the morning before, I stayed in bed until I heard my host up and around. I then showered and and got ready for shul. This time I think she was ready to go before I was ready. I thanked her again for letting me stay and for everything: food, kindness, company, knowledge, lighting of the candles on Shabbat, and so much more. I know how lucky I am to have made her as a friend. Shul was pretty empty during the morning part of the service. We arrived before 9 am and again I moved up by the ladies that were there so I did not sit alone. The Chazzan (the one who chants the prayers) did a lot of work. They again auctioned off the Torah readings. There was so much more to the service and so many special moments. There is a custom to touch the Torah scroll with the prayer book as it is brought around or to touch it with your hand. Most of the women go up to the front to the partition and reach over with their prayer book and touch the scroll. I have held back from doing this because I felt that it was not yet my privilege to do so since I am not a Jew yet. However, the women did not feel the same. I was not only encouraged to go up to the partition and touch the scroll, I was held up front at the partition and told to touch the scroll. I'm still not sure that I should have been given that honor to do it yet, but I will never forget it. Perhaps I am just a sentimental woman, but there is a true feeling of awe and reverence when that prayer book touches the scroll. This was not the only special moment of the service though. A little after 11:30, the shul filled with so many people that there was not only full rows, but no standing room left. There were so many people packed into the shul that I am sure people had to stand in the doorway or out in the hall even with everyone hugged in together. There was prayer, and then for the first time in my life, I heard the shofar blow. It started off quiet with short bursts but it made my entire body shake. Someone had told me that when they heard it, it made their back hair stand up and they didn't even have back hair. I wasn't sure what that meant until I heard it. The first time it blew it was short and the shul cleared out after that first time. There is a mitzvah (law or good deed) to hear it once a year. Since they did their mitzvah for the year, they left. I, of course, stayed. Service wasn't close to over. The second time the shofar blew was when it really got me. I could feel it in every cell of my body. Every cell shook. For a brief moment, I felt that I didn't belong there. I was infringing on something holy and I wasn't chosen to be there. That brief thought became another conversation with Hashem. I wanted to be there. I chose to be there. I belonged there. And finally, by the end of my conversation (all while the shofar was blowing) I was welcomed there. It was then that tears started to leak from my eyes and no matter how hard I tried, I could not hold them back. The ladies tried not to look, but I know that they kept looking. I had to ask the lady in front of me for a tissue multiple times because I kept soaking them. I didn't weep, but I didn't stop crying for a long time. I continued praying and following the service even with tears streaming from my eyes. I am sure that someone would say that it was soul in conversation with Hashem, or that my soul was repenting (which was entirely possible). All I know is that I have never walked into a church and felt what I did during that service. I, of course, will never walk into a church again, and I never want to miss out on another Rosh Hashanah service for the rest of my life. I don't even remember the time that we walked out of shul after the service ended, but I remember being amazed that over 6 hours had passed and it didn't feel that long. I had not left the shul to even use the bathroom the entire time. I walked with my friend H and her husband to their house. I had lunch there (more like normal dinner time than lunch). There are certain people that you meet in life that you feel connected to and can't explain why. They are people who feel privileged to meet and to get to know. They are people that inspire you and who you want to be or be like. They are people you hope to know for a very long time. That is my new friend H. She's just an amazing person. Her husband is a good person as well. I left and got home late. It was after 10 pm. I talked with my daughter A2 and my friend L who helped me process everything that happened over the weekend. There is so much more to say. The holiday weekend wasn't quite over yet. The Fast of Gedaliah or Tzom Gedaliah Fast Day was Monday. A short bit about the fast and more about the weekend will be in my next entry. Thank you Hashem for your many blessing this weekend. I am truly thankful. |