It’s 4PM on Saturday afternoon and I can’t believe the day just drifted away from me. I woke up late, but made it to the synagogue on time to lead services with my friend Diane. As I mentioned at services, Diane and I lead services together about once or twice a year and it is always very special.
She has an amazing voice and always does the heavy lifting. By heavy lifting, I mean the major Hebrew. I do the English readings and an English translation of the Haftorah, but I don’t read Torah or lead prayers solo when we’re together.
I haven’t been as observant this year as I have the past couple. I mean, I’m only coming up on my third anniversary of conversion, so there isn’t much to go on here. It came other night in a lovely conversation, but I’m less observant now because I know it isn’t going away. It = my jewishness.
I can stay home on a Friday night and nobody will take my papers away. In part, because I’ve hidden the papers in a safe place.. so safe, I can’t find them anymore. In part, in theory. I’m a Jew. Whether or not I o