In Rendezvous with G-d, twentysomething blogger and journalist Monica Rozenfeld explores what it means as a young Jewish woman in New York City to have a relationship with G-d.
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Hey G-d, call me.
Growing up, I used to talk to G-d all the time. I had these long conversations with Him at night. Looking back it was probably only-child syndrome. I needed someone to tell all my ups and downs to, all my wishes, all my thanks.
One time when I was 11 years old I asked G-d for curly hair. I saw this blonde girl on TV with the coolest curls ever and I kneeled by my bedside like they do on TV and prayed, and prayed. Lo and behold puberty struck, and I was gifted with the frizziest, most unruly set of curly hair. Even my long-time hairstylist since I was six did not know what to do with it. Thanks G-d. I never doubted His existence since.
Sometimes it feels G-d actually does listen. Sometimes it does not. Lately, it’s been harder to communicate with him, almost like having an awkward conversation with an old friend after a falling out. More like a falling out where neither party really knows why they stopped talking in the first place.
The past couple of weeks I haven’t lit candles on Shabbat. I haven’t kept Shabbat at all really. I haven’t prayed. I’ve been dreaming about oysters (not kosher) and ignoring my weekly Torah emails. But I think about G-d all the time. I wish he’d call and say hi. I wish he’d apologize for making me go through the most important years of my life (middle school) with frizzy hair. Maybe I’m just a little burnt out. Maybe I need a vacation, or some sun. Maybe I just need some more G-d in my life.
What are ways to start talking to an old friend again? What do you do when you realize this friend plays a huge role in your life? What do you do when you’re both too stubborn to start the conversation?
I need a serious dinner date with G-d. Have any suggestions?