Monday, June 20, 2011

A comment a friend made on my last post made me realize something.  I am living my life as an orthodox Jew, believing in God and abiding by his rules, but I in no way trust him to look out for my best interests.  Seriously, in no way.

It was God who decided it was in my best interest to take my Gabbi from me.  After all the love and all the work I put into that pregnancy, it twas God who decided to send me hell on Earth and a nervous breakown.  Sure it was also God who sent me a fabulous community after the fact, but I would rather live in a neighbourhood filled with thugs and drug dealers with my baby in my arms than in this fabulous area with my baby in my heart.

I now go out of my way to plan everything down to the tiniest detail- checkig and double checking everything two, three, even  four times.  I have started making packing lists months in advance- sure God can still destroy my plans, and in many ways I expect him to, but I can no longer trust him to look after things for me so that they will all work out in the end.

It is funny, living in Toronto we always assumed nothing would work out, but since we made aliya we have to accept with ease the idea that God is in charge and it will all work out in the end.  It is amazing how easily and quickly I through that idea out of the window.  Almost 3 years of learning to trust God's hands out the window in a single missed heartbeat.

I will never, never NEVER forgive God for what he took from me.  We learn in various places that for stealing the punishment is to pay double, quadruple or even quintuple times the amount stolen in payback and so far as I can tell GOD OWES ME for what he stole.  God should be found guilty in beit din shel malah and forced to repay what he stole from me.  Until such time he should be considered a rasha who does not follow his own rules.

About a rasha one can speak lashon harah, he ccan be banned from the kehillah, and one need not associate with him.

But I like my life.  Other than the constant pain in my heart and in my soul it is comfortable.  So I continue to abide by his rules and pretend that I believe in a God of kindness and love and fairness.  A God who listens and loves his children like a father.  Who hands out reward and punishment with equal fairness- but in my heart, the same heart that pains for eyes I never saw open, for hands I never got to hold, for diapers I never got to change, while I continue to believe he created the universe and controls every minute aspect of it, I do not believe he has, for even a single moment, my best interest in mind.

I live by his codes and I follow his rules, but like an abused child who listens out of fear and not love, I hate the God I have come to believe in.  And no one who ha snot been in my position, no one who has B"H never had to sign chevra kadisha papers for a child, who has had to go through life not knowing where their child would spend their days until mashiach arrives, who ever got to hug each of their children and watch them grow into beautiful, beautiful people, can even think to  tell me otherwise.

God is a big boy.  He does not need anyone to protect him or speak for him.  As for me, I am much smaller and yet still stand on my own two feet and speak for myself.  And I am saying, Until God pays up what he owes, he can put me in whatever book he likes, he is on my !@#$ list.

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