The streets we walk on

I wish I could explain what it feels like to walk these streets. What it feels like to know that there are thousands of years of history. Not just any history. My history.

I was at the Western Wall last night, on Tisha B'Av. It is the saddest day on our calendar and we mourn the destruction of our two Temples. The destruction that occurred was not just material. Jews in Jerusalem starved to death, were brutally murdered and everything destroyed. (It's custom to read all about it and it is definitely not pleasant reading) They were sent into exile, never to come back to Israel until the founding of the state of Israel in 1948.

Did I really ever think I would be sitting on the ground, staring at a wall, singing, and feeling sad that the Beit Hamikdash was no longer there? No. But something changed 7 months ago. I became Jewish and all of a sudden, Jewish history - even going back thousands of years - became mine.

I travelled on Friday morning to Kever Rachel. The grave of our matriarch Rachel. She cried for the Jewish people. She was buried outside of Jerusalem, so she would bring comfort to Jews on their journey. I could feel those tears and felt that my words were heard.

I don't want to leave Israel. I feel connected to this land. It stirs your soul and it feels like home. I walk these streets and I am surrounded by a people that I now call my own. There are no words that can encapsulate this feeling. It just feels right. And peaceful. And connected. Studying and learning, I am like a fish in water.

My flight is less than 24 hours away. I pray and pray that I will be back soon. I couldn't have imagined how hard it is to leave. I have to, but my heart yearns to stay. I trust in Hashem that I will find a way. But now it's time to bring everything that I've learnt and bring it back. 

May we be blessed to always stay connected to what matters most.

Singing

Kotel at midnight

Men singing too