This
is the first time I am putting this down on paper and there are a few things I
need to preface this post with. First and maybe most importantly Judaism as a
rule is a not a religion that proselytizes. We believe living out the Jewish
faith is for those who are Jewish or choose to become Jewish because they feel they
were born with a Jewish soul. Judaism is not right for everyone and I would
never try to convince anyone to become Jewish. I believe you do not have to be Jewish or follow Judaism to
connect with G-d and I respect that everyone has their own spiritual path.
Secondly, two awesome people raised me and showed me what it meant to live a
life of faith. My choice to leave that faith to find my own was a result of
much soul searching on my part and had nothing to do with the way Christianity
was taught or demonstrated to me.
“Can
I ask you a question? I mean you don’t have to answer, but how did you become
Jewish?” This question has been asked to me in a nearly an identical manner
hundreds yes hundreds of times. Converts fascinate people and frankly they
fascinate me. The majority of people are happy to carry on and follow the faith
their parents give them. I wanted badly to be one of those people. I was raised as I mentioned by two
awesome people my Mom and Dad. My Dad was raised in a devout Christian Science
home but as an adult chose to follow Christ yes he became a born again
Christian but I chose to say follow Christ because for my Dad he didn’t just
become a Christian he was choosing to follow Christ wherever that led but more
about that later. My Mom was raised with no real religion of any kind an odd
thing in America in the 50’s and 60’s but that’s just how it was a remains with
my Grandparents G-d does not come up. My Mom chose also as an adult to become a
Christian and follower of Christ and my parents were married in a Four Square
Gospel church in 1984 and I was born in 85. As a baby my parents dedicated me to the L-rd. I wasn’t
Baptized but dedicated an important distinction to my parents they were not
saving my soul only I could do that they were giving my life to G-d and
promising to raise me as a Christian with help from their church and G-d.
For
the first 8 years of my life I went to Church each Sunday. I loved Sunday
school, dressing up and seeing my friends. I listened carefully in church and
prayed before dinner and before bed but other then that religion affected my
life very little. At some point I am told I said a prayer to accept Jesus into
my heart I to this day have no memory of this. One Sunday afternoon after church my Dad called a family meeting
never really a good thing it usually meant I or someone but probably me was in
trouble. Next came the sentence that changed everything for me “G-d has called
us to the mission field” my Dad said. Awesome I thought I loved the stories
missionaries told when they came to visit our church. Saving people in Africa
or teaching little kids in Mexico, smuggling Bibles into China. Wow! This is
going to be great I thought, adventure awaits.
Arkansas?!?
In the United States?!? I asked. No beautiful African sunsets or Bible smuggling was in
our futures my parents were becoming “stateside” missionaries. I must admit at
first I was really disappointed and made it very clear that I didn’t want to
move to Arkansas. As time passed though I saw that my parents were working hard
to keep families together and I knew they loved what they were doing and believed in it. They were
missionaries with Family Life for 7 years. It was not always easy being an MK
or missionary kid especially when your family was suppose to be demonstrating
what a family should be like. I felt on display a lot and that was hard
especially in my “tween” years.
The
older I got the more I began to question so I dove into studying my Bible. In
our house we read the Bible a lot my parents also had my sisters and I in
Christian school so Bible reading was happening at school too. I became
fascinated by the Israelites. To me their story more then any other in Bible
captivated me heart and soul. The idea of a people chosen by G-d set apart to
be His people living in a way set forth by G-d different from other nations
amazed me. To me G-d was so up close and personal with these people splitting a
sea for them and leading them with clouds and fire. I longed to feel connected
with G-d the way the Israelites were. I asked my Mom what happened to these
chosen people of G-d? What I found out changed me forever.
I must have read David Ben Gurion’s independence speech
100 times. How could this be I thought to myself? A Jewish State where the decedents of the Israelites lived and practiced a religion called
Judaism? I had seen Judaism before not really knowing what is was called not
from anyone I knew of course but from Fiddler On The Roof which my parents had taped from the T.V. . I loved that movie and watched it over and over and every
time Golde lit her Shabbat candles I felt something inside me swell up and I
would cry. From that time on I really became intrigued with all things Israel
and all things Jewish.
I was struggling
with Jesus something I told no one my biggest fear was that someone would find
out. I had no problem with a belief in a higher power but the more I studied
the more I began to question if Jesus was the promised Messiah. This terrified
me I was in High School and was going to a school where not believing in Jesus
was grounds for expulsion and I knew if I left Christianity I would break my
parents hearts. I threw myself into youth group and mission trips I even asked
to be baptized again hoping something would spark inside me and help to rid me
of my overwhelming doubt but nothing worked. The way I would describe it was like walking with a small rock in my shoe. You walk like that for as long as
you can but eventually you can’t ignore it anymore and you have to take off your
shoe and shake out the rock.
When I was 16 had
an incredible opportunity to go to Israel with a dear family friend a dream I
had since I was 10 and had discovered Israel existed. I had already been
visiting a local synagogue on Saturdays and had begun falling in love with the
Hebrew prayers and ancient melodies. I was still going to church every Sunday
and trying to make both faiths work in my life. The second I landed at Ben
Gurion the airport named for the man who’s speeches I had read over and over I
felt a peace in my restless soul unparalleled by anything I had ever felt
before. I was home. `
I prayed at the
Western Wall and soaked in the feeling I had been searching for all those years. A
light radiated out from that place and into my soul. There is a story that
Moses as he looked into the land of Israel saw every Jew that was and ever would be
and where they would stand in Land. When you stand there in place Moses saw you
you can feel it. I believe that day I stood where Moses saw me. I knew at that
moment at age 16 I would convert to Judaism. Judaism was calling me it was my
destiny. It took 7 more years two of which were formal study to complete my
Orthodox conversion Judaism. My husband and I converted together and he gave me
the strength to finish what at times was a grueling process. The only thing I
regret to this day was breaking my Mother’s heart. I like to think when I
placed her Jewish granddaughter in her arms it helped to heal her heart but I
know at Christmas and Easter it still breaks a little.
Now each morning
when I wake up and say Modeh Ani “I
give thanks” I am so thankful I am living each day as a Jew. Living out my faith
as member of the Tribe who’s stories captivated me as a child adding my own
chapter to the story of a beautiful people. My people.
Me at the Western Wall during our Honeymoon in Israel in 2008
