It seems that before Hashem made any move to bring me to Himself, He first wanted me to know what true love felt like, so that, when He truly showed up, I would recognize true love, and therefore, recognize Him.

The dark cloud of destruction was back again. And in the confines of my apartment, I blamed god, whoever god was. I needed to vent to someone. So I strolled down to the beach town bar. I knew the bartender would listen. It was there, in my weakness moment that a pastor of one of the non-denominational churches showed up and sat next to me. Some have told me, that “see in your weakest hour J-man showed up!” But standing where I am today, this "showing up" was truly the wo

Just like when He brought the Israelites out of Egypt, Hashem chose to take me the long way home to the Jewish faith. As I dug deeper and deeper into His Tanakh, and proclaimed more adamantly the Jewishness of G-d, I was also convinced that faith in the Jewish G-d would necessitate that faith in the Messiah of the Jewish people would mean having a Jewish faith as well. This clarity of vision brought on even more vitriol and antisemitic rhetoric from the pulpits.

My faith was sealed when talking with an old Jewish grandmother one evening. She asked me why I was in Israel. After telling her I was here to learn and have questions answered about my faith, she asked me to describe my faith. At that point, I knew my theology was so mixed up with lies and truth, but the Jewish grandmother wanted to hear me out anyway. After describing to her everything I believed, the only thing she could say was, “my dear, I think you are Jewish!”

Being so shaken by war, it seems, is was exactly what I needed to drive my Jewish faith home. It was as if Hashem took me the shoulders, looked me square in the heart, and said “choose this day whom you will serve!”

My Long Journey Home to Judaism: Part 6 Home, Yet Not Free I finally made it home from Israel after the October 7th attacks. Like I said previously, I held myself together long enough to get home and give my mother a proper hello. When I got to our house, however, I completely fell apart. I allowed myself to grieve, to cry, to get angry (as we all must do from time to time), and to mourn. Then, I had to decide. Do I commit to the Jewish way of life or do I walk away from any

I would rather live by Love than to ensure my death with hate. So, in Love, I proudly stand as a Jewish woman, open my mouth with Hashem's wisdom, and write. Love me or hate me, my reply is the same, “Yay though they slay me, yet will I praise You Hashem!” And I will write.