This morning I had the luxury of being the only one to show up to my Chumash class (one of my classmates was sick and the other was away) and got a one-on-one session with my teacher, Devorah Rubin. She asked me a couple of questions about what brought me to Midreshet Rachel, which turned into an hour-long conversation about losing my mother and struggling with Emunah (faith). It was really refreshing to be able to take some of my questions to her, an opportunity I wouldn’t have had if my friends had come in today.

One of the things I’m currently struggling with, for example, is the idea of a “Punishing Gd”. I should preface this by saying that a few years back I developed a relationship with a “Higher Power” of my understanding, because the Gd concept of my childhood was alienating and, quite frankly, really scary. I envisioned a Gd that was all-loving, always there for me, and doing everything for the good, even if it didn’t seem “good” in that moment, and built up from there. Rabbis both ancient and modern describe Hashem, the Jewish Gd, in much the same way, but looking at the text at face value sometimes gives me a much different picture. Take what I’m learning now in Chumash. As they approach the land of Israel, the Jewish people decide to send 12 spies in to scope out the land and come back with a report. Their report of the land turns out to be disparaging and as a result, Hashem has them wander around the desert for 40 more years, during which time all of the men of that generation between the ages of 20-60 died, thereby losing their portion in the land of Israel. Pretty harsh, don’t you think?

Devorah and I discussed two concepts that gave me a lot of food for thought. In response to my queries about the “punishing Gd”, Devorah described to me a parent who hits a child when he or she is trying to teach them to stay away from dangerous things, like running into the street or touching something hot. What seems like Gd “punishing” is actually his loving guidance to dissuade us from doing things that would hurt us. I see it, but I still need to chew on it for a while. The 12 spies, Devorah and I learned together, were acting out of a crisis of faith. We read a midrash (biblical interpretation) that included the following parable: A king finds a bride for his son. She’s a real catch: beautiful, from a good family and rich. The king goes to his son and tells him all about the bride he’s picked out. “I want to see her,” the prince said. “I don’t believe that she’s as great as you say.” “What if I say he can’t see her?” the king thought to himself. “Then he’ll say ‘Oh, she must be ugly’ and he’ll think I lied to him”. Finally, the king decides to let him see the girl. “Go ahead and check her out,” he says to the prince. “But even if you like her, you can’t have her anymore because you didn’t trust my judgment. I’m going to give her to your son instead”. This story exactly parallels what happened with the spies. Gd already told the people of Israel that he was bringing them to a land that was flowing with milk and honey; why did they need to go and scope the place out for themselves? Because they didn’t trust Gd. They wanted to take control, and in so doing, they ended up losing their reward, which went to their children instead.

The question now is: Was that really fair? How many times have I had a crisis of faith? Truth be told, I’m in the middle of one right now. I trust Gd with my health and with my family, but there are plenty of things in my life where I am certainly lacking in emunah. I suppose the difference between me and the spies, at least in this case, is that they ACTED on their lack of faith, whereas I just stew and project and make myself nuts. I’m not actually doing anything to change the end results. This doesn’t mean that the spies’ punishment sits right with me now, just that I understand the source of it. This struggle, I am finding, is very much a part of the Jewish journey. There are so many question marks, loose ends, things beyond our understanding that have perplexed even the greatest scholars for years. The choice is whether to throw up your hands in disgust and abandon ship or shrug your shoulders and say, “I may not get it, but Gd does”. Eventually, everyone has to make the choice to cross the bridge from reason to faith. Or not. And then there are those, like me, who constantly run back and forth to keep things interesting.

I had an interesting experience today with a very charedi (religious) man in Kiryat Moshe. While I was asking him for directions he kept his eyes down, refusing to look directly at me. I understood why; he was practicing “Shmiras HaEynayim” (Guarding of the Eyes), meaning he was trying to keep his vision clear of anything that could lead him to temptation or impure thoughts. Now, I’m not walking around in a miniskirt and thigh-high python boots (today), but I am still forbidden property, being another man’s wife. While I understand the intention here, it is still disconcerting to talk to someone who refuses to look at you. This isn’t the first time this has happened to me; whenever it does I always think to myself, “Is it really such a holy thing if, as a result, you make someone else feel uncomfortable?”. Again, there are two sides to everything (and often more), and everyone has an opinion about it.

I have some gastronomical news, for those who are interested. Today, for lunch and dinner, I was able to sit down and actually ENJOY a plate of sauteed peppers. I was so thrilled! For those of you have have been through morning sickness, the power of certain foods to throw off your entire system for a matter of months is astounding. It is a blessed miracle to be restored to my former appetite. Here’s hoping that at 15 weeks in, we’re finally heading into the clear, nausea-wise. By the way, babycenter.com tells me that Little Bean is now the size of an apple, 4 inches long and weighing around 2.5 ounces. I’m starting to feel little flutters in my belly which is so exciting; I missed it from the moment Yonah was born. In fact, later that night I started crying because I missed being pregnant so much (well, that and the tidal wave of postnatal hormones). I “popped” over Shabbat so now I have a little belly that clearly says, “I’m pregnant”, as opposed to “I should have skipped that extra piece of cheesecake” (which I don’t eat, but still…).

This afternoon, Yonah and I took a walk in the cool autumn air (it’s been raining a lot, which makes it cold and damp) and stopped at the salon a few doors down from our apartment so Mommy could get her eyebrows waxed. The woman behind the desk offered to take Yonah so I could have a few minutes to relax. What a cool cucumber he was! By the time I came out he was sitting behind the front desk helping her enter appointments into the computer. I am so thankful that he is such a chilled-out little guy (KAH - ward off the evil eye) and what a social butterfly! Ruchama tells me that he plays beautifully with the other kids in his playgroup. He cries a little when I leave him but stops the minute his friends arrive, and today he started crying when all of them left! One day I will stop abusing my blog privileges to brag about my son, but today isn’t it. Sorry.

Layla Tov. Good night.