There are times during my davening when I get disconcerted and generally overwhelmed with frustration about my conversion process. For sure I am always wondering when will the process end? When will that day arrive when I will be able to proudly say that special blessing to my G-d, immerse in those clandestine Mikvah waters, and--in that magical, twinkling instant in time--when will I ascend as a new Heiress of Destiny among my kindred Soul-People? While that juncture in the matrix of space-time continuum eludes my entire being and is hidden from my mortal senses, I am left wanting--anxiously awaiting. But, there is much more to it than that. While stuck in "the process," my soul is often troubled with an identity-crisis of sorts.
Until that glorious day for which I hope, I feel as an orphan--quite left behind, somewhat unclassified, unsure of things in my bewilderment of where I belong and if I will be taken in sometime soon. I am perplexed about the finer distinctions of my soul-status and my service to G-d. I feel inside my heart as though I am not a goy; but my mind is forced to grapple with the fact that even in my sincerest moments of intimate connection with Hashem, I still am not yet a yid. I feel as though I pray as a Jew and yet I am not appraised as one. And while it is logically and reasonably imperative--it is necessary that it should be this way,--it is none-the-less quite painful a condition.
I love my siddur. My praybook is filled with profound treatises and holy discourses for me to internalize and pour out to Hashem. Yet sometimes I get tripped up and distracted by the very words, themselves. All throughout the formalized prayer literature I am reading about "me, I, us, we, our..." and I am reminded of the oneness of G-d and the oneness of the Jewish people. But alas I feel awkward and a bit unsure of myself and I question if this is even my prerogative or permissable in my present state of things. What am I to G-d? How will G-d regard my prayers? Does Hashem see me as a righteous gentile? Ugh! Or are my prayers lifted in unison with the kavanot of klal yisroel?
When I go about my day, when I awake, when I wash, when I fill my body with nutrients, when I sit to learn Torah, when I enter my shul or when I want to perform a mitzvah...Wherever I go and what ever I do, I want to say a blessing to Hashem. I want to elevate the mundane. Every mitzvah is so beautiful and soul-fulfilling. I want to serve my G-d with words and deeds. But it is not always so simple a task when I must be mindful of who I am right now, my future unrendered. I am not free to bless my food when the food that I cook is treif simply because I made it and I am a non-Jew. I must not fully keep Shabbat for it is a covenant between G-d and the children of Israel. While I am learning to speak in a holy language, I wonder if it is in my best interest at times to refrain from saying Hashem's name even when I pray because His name is sacred between G-d and the Jewish people. There is power in His Name and I would hope that I am not using His name in vain as I am not yet Jewish. Someday I will celebrate chaggim alongside my Jewish friends and my soul-mate.
In Pirkei Avos Chapter 3 Mishnah 19, it says:
Everything is foreseen, yet freedom of choice is granted; the world is judged with Goodness, and everything is according to the prepoderance of good deeds.
Concerning this, the Baal Shem Tov similiarly taught that everything--not only the events that involve man, but even those which exists in all of life including plants, animals, minerals, etc.--everything exists and is controlled by Divine providence. Everything, even the most seemingly insignificant aspect of creation, such as a leaf falling from a tree and fluttering in the wind, is ordained by G-d and comes about with Divine Energy.
G-d is Omniscient. He knows all of His creation, every indiosyncracy. Nothing is beyond his Divine understanding. And so it should not be improperly percieved that my potentiality and challenges go on unforeseen by Hashem. He knows every soul and each one's mission. Compelled by emunah and sustained with bittachun, I am learning that I must not obviate that fact that I am never beyond His reach. While it may be hard at times to articulate and reason, I try to keep in mind that Hashem sees me and knows me with a certain unique intimacy.
Rabbi Akiva descended from a family of converts! It is said that every convert is destined to convert. This idea is often reflected when our Sages would refer to ger as "a convert who converts" rather than "a gentile who converts". It is taught that even before a person converts, that person possesses the spark of a holy neshama.
Even so, I once read that while there is no obligation for a convert to convert, the decision to become Jewish or not is still a choice to be made, to be reconciled. I think this means that a convert's free will is explicable only in terms of the future intended to be realized. So even while my mind and heart is choosing to be like a Jew and I more often than not identify myself more closely with a Jew, it is okay for my neshama to be quite uncomfortable with myself as I am now because my faith and trust in Hashem through this laborious time is meant to transform me. The process of conversion is necessary for my propensity to finally be Jewish. I try not to take this for granted.
For now, though, I know that I am simply an orphan of destiny--a foundling soon to become a beneficiary or something quite definite and magnanimous--incomparable to my present emotional sufferings and state of affairs. I am a promise of a certain potentiality. And so just as I am, in a state of metamorphis, I am willing to be changed and transformed by G-d. That is what I have to offer Hashem when I daven and go about my day. May I endeavor to please Him with all that I am able.
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