Get thee to a mikveh! (So I can be a Jew before Passover!)

While growing up, my mother had a print of a house with hearts and under the image there was the saying, “Love lives here.”  This print hung on the wall in our dining room for years.  It was one of those staple household decorations – no matter how old I got or much I changed, that little print stayed the same, untouched.  A few weeks after moving into Joe’s house, my mother brought the print over for me to hang on a wall in Liam’s room.  The colors matched and she told me that she thought it was fitting.  I couldn’t have agreed more.  Love truly does live here! 

                 Despite the cliché corniness of the phrase, this is in fact what my home with Joe and Liam says to me.  I am so surrounded by love that I am often giving myself a mental pinch to see if this is really my life.  Silly, I know.  

Knowing that I am beyond lucky and (no pun intended) chosen, the morning of my conversion I had no doubts.  I knew that becoming Jewish would be this wonderful addition to my life with Joe and the family that we are creating together.  I wanted so much to be a Jew already.  I was simply nervous.  What was the rabbinical court going to ask me?  Would I start to cry when they asked me to tell them about my path to Judaism?  Would I give honest responses and speak from my heart, or would I be too self-conscious and give the text book response? 

Joe, my mother, and my sponsoring rabbi sat by my side as I was questioned by the rabbinical court.  It sounds so official and rigid, but it was much more like a conversation than a put me on the spot and grill me with questions session about the Talmud and Torah.  It was uncanny how comfortable I felt.  It was not only that I was prepared, but I felt that I was becoming part of something that I was always supposed to be a part of. 

Following my meeting with the rabbinical court, Liam and I entered the mikveh and officially became part of the Jewish people and the Jewish faith.  I went in first on my own and then Joe and I brought Liam in together.  It is difficult to describe some of life’s most beautiful moments so I am not going to try to put it into words.  But I do remember after I immersed myself under the water and said the blessings, finalizing my conversion, Sue, the woman who assisted me into the mikveh, gave me several minutes to be alone in the mikveh.  She told me that Jews believe that the mikveh is a space in which you can directly talk to God and God is actively listening.   So I took this opportunity to say thank you.  Thank you for my beautiful family and life.  Thank you for my motherhood and for bringing the most wonderful man into my life.  It wasn’t much, but I thought if I had a chance to say one thing to God it would be “thank you. “    

(Side thought:  Jews who have not been in a mikveh seriously need to try it!  It was like being in a wonderfully large bath tub!  And the lighting was great – all candles and no over head lighting.)

                 

               

If not now, when?

It is 5:30 a.m. on the day of Liam’s and my conversion.  I can’t sleep.  I am too anxious – both excited and nervous.  I have worked so hard to get to this place.  I have read for countless hours, spent time doing some very honest soul searching, and have pushed myself far beyond my comfort zone.  I am ready.  Like a mantra, I keep repeating this to myself, “I am ready.”

Of course I have doubts.  I suppose they are more like insecurities than actual reservations about entering the Jewish faith.   Raising Jewish children intimidates me because I am still learning about what it means to live a Jewish life.  How can I possibly teach someone else?  Synagogue intimidates me.  I mean, more than half of the service is in Hebrew!  Claiming that I am lost is an understatement.  How will I ever learn Hebrew?  I so badly want to invite friends over for Shabbat dinner on Friday night, but I still feel like I am a fake as I prepare for Shabbat.  I know that after today I am as Jewish as any other Jew, but am I really?  According to Jewish law I am, but I still feel like an outsider.   Does this feeling of being “the other” ever go away?  And if it does go away, will I just enter into another state of feeling like “the other” since Jews are a minority?   

These are complex issues.  I know that I may struggle with these feelings for a while, possibly even years.  But I repeat my mantra, “I am ready.”  In Ethics of Fathers, Rabbi Hillel, one of the greatest Jewish scholars, says, "If I am not for myself, who will be for me? But if I am only for myself, who am I? And if not now, when?" (1:14).  My decision to convert is a choice that I have made to be for myself.  I enrolled in my Introduction to Judaism class wanting to learn more about the faith and culture of the man I love.  And I ended the class knowing that this was a personal journey that I not only wanted to experience longer through study, but wanted to be a part of in a very real way.  Moreover, my decision to convert is not only for myself.  I am converting the single most precious and sacred person in my life, my son.  I know that by becoming Jews, Liam and I will be able to share a spiritual and cultural life with Joe that is authentic.  The Jewish people, faith, and culture will be ours, too!  Lastly, my favorite part of Hillel’s quote is “if not now, when?”  Simply put, Hillel challenges his readers to live in the present, to motivate now because life is happening now.  This reminds me of being on a roller coaster and reaching the high point just before the riveting drop.  At this point I always fear the drop, wanting it to happen, but not now.  But the reality of the drop is that it will happen.  There is no way of getting off the roller coaster without the drop occurring.  So, if not now, when?  And the drop is always exhilarating!  

I know I am prepared.   Although I am nervous about the questions the Beit Din (the rabbinical court) will ask me, I will speak from my heart because it is through love that brought me to this path.  I fear that I will get choked up as they ask me to tell my story because it is an emotional one.  It is a story I hold dear to my heart.  It is truly a story of a lost soul trying to find her sense of self and protect her son.  But is it a victorious story!  A story I am proud to tell regardless of the fact that it is difficult to tell. 

“I am ready; I am ready.”