Haggadah 2017

2017 has been the best year of my life. No doubt in that. And I have nothing in my heart but the greatest gratitude towards the Lord. It’s been amazing, beyond anything I dreamed of. I traveled so much and had my heart filled with so many beautiful emotions. It was miraculous and I want to do this traditional “Haggadah” even though it’s not Easter and recount all the wonders that God has shown to me this year.

BUT

Before we get to that, I want to do a small detour, a short trip down Memory Lane.

You see, last year when I posted my New Year’s Eve picture I wrote something like this: “I beat you, 2016! You broke me, but here I am, standing on my feet!” And some very well-intended friends felt I was being too melodramatic, some people thought I was exaggerated, others began to worry what had happened to me that was so terrible and so on… A special thanks to those who took the time to write and say “Don’t worry, it’s not the end of the journey. This will turn you into your own superhero.”  But to get to the point: sometimes it seems like society doesn’t want to hear about our troubles, our hardships or how broken we get every now and then. We use social media to paint the pretty picture and feel lame to say anything different from that when we stop feeling so perfect and amazing. But this past year I learned I have the right to tell my story when I feel it’s time or to not say it at all if it doesn’t feel right. It was a harder lesson than it seems.

Last December (2016) I had my major breakdown. I got to a point where I was tired beyond logic, incapable of waking up to go to my second job, frustrated with everyone around me and depressed. And when it came to say that, I just couldn’t. Because it wasn’t logical. I didn’t know why I was so tired. I didn’t know why I was failing. I didn’t know why everything was falling apart, much less how it could be fixed. So I tried to work my way around it. I tried to make excuses. And I ended up disappointing some people I had worked very hard to earning their respect and prove I wasn’t just shit. And guess what? When my breakdown happened, someone made sure I remembered I was shit. And failing like that and breaking down was very hard to accept. It was brutal. I couldn’t understand how after so many years of trying to please everybody and having it all under control and being able to work myself into exhaustion I was breaking down. I had to give up everything and stop because I couldn’t do it anymore. Of course, the next thing that followed was a deep spiritual crisis. January 2017 was the only time in my life I had seriously considered leaving my Church community because I couldn’t bear the weight of my sins, my deceptions, my broken heart and identity. And God knows that community is my life! That’s probably why after 2 months of trials and tribulations, on the 22^nd of March (one of the most symbolic dates in my recent history) me and God finally got back to each other and decided to hop on this crazy roller-coaster together. BEST DECISION EVER.

What I want to say through this detour is that it’s ok to say we are broken. It’s more than ok. It’s healthy. It’s necessary. It’s helpful. It’s irrelevant if other people have it harder than us. We are not in this life to compare the depths of the shit we’re in. The important thing is to get through it and find support. Be it in God, family, friends, loved ones or tourists we meet in hostels. It’s important to share our burdens, acknowledge our hardships, our problems and our hard times, and also, like I’m about to do, count our blessings. Yes, it’s been hard. I’ve been through a lot. A lot more than I’m willing to talk about. I lost people I still can’t go a day without thinking about. I’ve lost battles I didn’t know I was going to fight. I had to reshape my entire life and identity. I’ve lost that one too. I lost my faith and my connection with God. I’ve lost the desire to please everyone. I gained peace. I gained a vocation. I gained tranquility and happiness in solitude. And I am very thankful for every step of the way. After the hardest year of my life came the best one. I am living proof that however bad things seem right now, however broken or sad, with just a tiny ounce of faith and just the right amount of letting go, life can turn around in miraculous ways. So here they are, some of my favorite moments with God from this amazing year:  

• Looking at this amazing Christmas tree and remembering from whom all these ornaments came from: family, friends, charity or the year when I myself bought some of them.
• Baking Christmas cookies and sharing them with others and seeing the joy on their faces
• Finally sticking to my Advent Calendar :) (it was about time!)
• Attending a George Balanchine ballet!
• Travelling alone and feeling His presence always with me
• AVISHAI COHEN! - my comfort, my soothing go-to artist: an incredible concert and that amazing picture together!
• Being a christian missionary for a week: the people we met, the silent moments of prayer, that hour we spent together in the garden under the apple trees, the way in which He provided for us every step of the journey
• Surviving Vienna.
• Writing my story in many beautiful places and having the courage to upload it on the blog.
• The trips to Cluj, where I've experienced everything: I've been happy, sad, tired, excited, bleeding, laughing with friends or completely alone, listening to concerts that changed my life and trying to figure out that life. Cluj was God's gift to me for which I had asked with desperate prayers!
• Israel: the home of my spirit :) I have to specially mention our trip up on the deserted hill and all the thoughts and conversations we had for 2-3 very long hours of walking through thistles; the small cheap hostel in Tiberias and the beautiful plantations down the roads
• All the postcards I wrote, some sent, some not, which helped me realize so many things about myself, my heart and my life.
• Bartok, Gustav, Enescu, Wagner, Ceaikovski - the concerts that filled my heart.
• Anca and Ana - the 2 As that keep me on track and turn any frown on my face upside down :)
• The kids I work with, the many things I learned about disabilities and autism, the people who take the time to teach me.
• The good food, good coffee and great friends to share it with
• The lovely home we created together and the silent moments we spend praying together
• The peace He gave me in the hard times, the happiness He made possible in every small thing
• The many beautiful moments with my parents, the fantastic relationship we have
• The fact that He listened to all my prayers and made me understand His answers 
• The fact that we now have an everyday relationship which led to countless memories and blessings which would make this post unbelievably long.
• Last but not least, the courage to write my mind and speak my voice when I feel it's right and the wisdom to know when it isn't.

I am more than thankful for this unbelievable year and I can only hope for a 2018 just as great! Thank you to each and every one of you who take the time to read my blog, you're not just a number to me, my heart rejoices for every view (that's all I get, the number of views, haha) and I can only hope that you enjoy these posts and pray that all of you find what your heart is looking for and are "completely and perfectly and incandescently happy" in all that life has to offer! Happy New Year and thank you for being the small number that brings me great joy! 

The Story of Almah - 6th Chapter

Not far from Almah's home there was a hill. On its top there was a bench facing South and from there Almah could see her Father's Kingdom stretching in the sunlight. Many times she would go there to think and be alone with her thoughts. After a couple of months away from home she went there. The snow had melted and one could see the grass trying to make its way through the earth and into the light. Almah's mind was voided. "Come home" said a familiar voice. J snuck behind her and was circling the bench to come sit beside her. "Come home. I miss you and I know you miss Me. We've always been together. Never in your life have you gone two months without talking to Me. Please, come home." Almah laid her head on her brother's chest. She did want to go home. These two months were necessary and helpful but she missed her family. Any thought she would have, she was used to running it by J. There was nothing He didn't know about her and His presence alone was the most comforting thing in the world. It was impossibly hard to live without Him, she felt horribly incomplete. "You coming home?" He insisted. "Of course I am." she said. "Promise never to go away again? It would break My heart, you know..." - "I promise. But I want to talk to Father. I have complaints to make about my upbringing." - "Complaints? Really?" - "Yes, really. What is this thing that I grew up dreaming of a family of my own, obsessing over finding a husband and getting married and having children? Do you find that normal? Do you have any idea how hard it is to find someone, in this Kingdom or outside of it? It's excruciating. People are losing their minds trying to find their soulmate. They get together and compromise to the point where they forget who they are and then they break up and drink their minds away, or get married but then are faced with the hardships of life and the diminishing of love and the absence of care and they get divorced and feel pressured to start it all over again. It's incredibly hard. It breaks my heart to see it happen to others, let alone to have it happen to me. Happy families and marriages are a miracle. They truly are. And they should be treated that way. We should be taught that finding a soulmate and living a blessed life together is a miracle and it's based on faith and loyalty and not just affectionate love, but true love, authentic love, self-giving and self-sacrificing love. And we should be taught to be whole by ourselves. To be contempt with who we are on our own. To be happy on our own. To cherish our lives and have a vocation. A meaning that is enough for us even if we may never find someone to share it with." Almah was barely catching a breath while delivering this speech. J looked at her with His big brown eyes. "I'm sure Father would tell you that He's been trying to teach you that your entire life." He said. "Well, I didn't get it. I didn't get it until now and it's been a very very hard lesson to learn. And most parts of it hurt." - "Al, the greatest lessons we get in life hurt." - "Fabulous world we live in, love. Fabulous world." J laughed. "You're still sarcastic... which means you're fine. Oh, and you better put that ring back on. A promise is a promise. We're in this together and no matter where you go or how you break your word, My word stays. So keep that ring on your finger." - "Will do, big brother, will do."

"It's good to have you home." A gentle voice was heard while Almah was roaming around a still garden with shy shades of green making their way out of the Winter. "I wanted to speak with You, Father." she said. "I know, I heard of your speech." He replied. "Come, sit with Me." They sat on a wide cold stone bench around which little white flowers were dropping dew on the earth. "You know," Almah started, "sometimes when I'm out there it feels as if everyone's having it better than me. Everyone in my circle, you know. More talented, more skinny, more beautiful, much more respected and admired, wanted by everyone around them, all of that. It feels like I'm stuck being the sidekick in the corner, never fully regarded or looked up on. And standing there it makes me feel like I haven't got much. I'm not very talented, not very successful, pretty much average in everything, just an anonymous, little weird and socially awkward virgin." Her Father chuckled. "I hate going out there and looking like I ain't got much. Like I'm not really worth much. I have all this. I am a princess. I'm just not a very shiny one." - "Almah, this Kingdom will never appear as a fabulous Instagram story that the world will die for. In fact, it's pretty much us dying for the world. That's how it goes around here." - "I just don't understand why I still feel this way. How did I turn out like this? Where did we go wrong, Father?" - "Wrong? You think we went wrong somewhere?" - "Well, it must be. I mean, I'm not cut out for the world, yet I struggle to be a good daughter to You too. I'm constantly fighting my feelings and desires because they rarely match Yours and sooner rather than later we always end up fighting and I end up feeling like I did everything wrong my entire life." - "Almah." - "What do You see when You look at me, Father?" - "I see my daughter. I see that I've made you good. I did nothing wrong, Almah, I never do, in fact. Everything is as it should be." - "I want to ask You something." Almah said with a breaking voice. "Send me somewhere. Send me somewhere to work for You. I need it, Father. I need to start doing something worthy of this Kingdom and inheritance. I need to start focusing on You and us and our home. I want to." - "Where do you want to go?" - "Somewhere warm and where they speak Spanish." - "So Finland, then." Almah laughed. "I'll think about it. When the time's right." He said. "Whatever that means..." - "Almah..." - "Well, Father, we have different views on time, don't we?" - "You know, I remember this Christmas when you told Melchior you were missing perspective. You were right." her Father said with a hint of a smile. "Thanks, that's great to hear. Really." Almah replied with a frown. "I'm happy you're willing to go." her Father added. "I'm happy too. I'm happy to be home, first. And just so You know, deep inside I also think You did everything perfect. I just get distracted sometimes... most of the times. But I know You make everything good. I count on it. I count on You for everything." - "So you should." Her Father concluded with a smile.

The Story of Almah - 5th Chapter

The night was cold and Almah's hand was freezing on her cigarette. Warm tears were leaving soft marks on her cheeks. She stood silent for a while, trying to gather her thoughts. Through all the fog in her mind things were starting to catch shape and contour and slowly she could see them more clearly. She felt there was only one way out, and that was out of everything. She couldn't go on like this. Melchior, as always, was right. She was divided and she needed to get herself back together. This could not go on. She was bringing shame to her Kingdom, disappointing her Father and using Joe as a tool for her affectionate needs. It was too much. Her heart grew heavy thinking about what she had to do, or more accurate, what she wanted to do. Leaving everything behind seemed so radical and painful. She had never in her life considered leaving her Kingdom. Who was she outside of it? But the same could be asked about who she was inside of it. Her sense of identity was completely lost. Nothing from her history made sense anymore. It was all just a big whirl of neediness and confusion and mixed feelings and false hope and desperate love and it felt suffocating. How would she ever get out of it?
"Father?" she said, focusing her eyes on the dark night. "I'm here, Almah." her Father's voice sounded calm and soothing. "So Joe's out?" He asked. "Yeah. It has to be. It's not love. It's a need for companionship and affection but it's not love. And it's not going anywhere, but You know that." - "I do" He replied. "But it's still up to you. I never forced you into anything." - "I know. But even I know this is the right thing to do." Her Father put His hand around her shoulders. "I have to go." she added. "Are you sure?" He asked her. "I can't do this anymore. I have to realize who I am. Who I want to be. And when I come back, I want to truly be here. Be more worthy. More aware. This is not how being Your daughter is done. I am failing You. I am a failure. I screw up. That's the truth, Father. I'm a screw-up. And it's not the kind of daughter that I want to be. If I live in Your Kingdom and call myself Your daughter, I should behave like one. And I'm not. And You know that. I can't keep failing You. I have to leave." Her Father looked her in the eyes with deep love and a sense of compassion. He needn't say anything. "I do love You, Father." ... "You know," he finally said, "every time we would get to a point where we would disagree and you, as you have all your life, would feel like you want to walk out and leave, you would always ask me one thing: Don't let me go." Almah looked into her Father's eyes: "I know. I remember. That's why I have to ask you now: let me go. I beg You, let me go. I need to go." - "You can go, Almah. You are free. But we will miss you. This is your home, this is where you belong. Yet you are free. I let you go."
Almah turned from her Father with a broken heart and left. She didn't want to face J., she simply couldn't. She took her ring out, the one they had bought together, the one that symbolized that they would always be beside each other and their bond would always come first, and put it in a safe place. Until she would return home (and deep in her heart Almah wanted to return home) she couldn't wear that ring. By leaving she had broken that promise and she would put it back on once she would make a new and lasting promise to her brother.
"You let her go?" J. stormed to His Father. "She's free." He answered. "She's dumb!" J. shouted. "She's gonna get hurt!". And J had tears in His eyes. "You can watch over her from a distance. But let her experience what she must. Trust her. I gave her all she needs. She'll figure it out when it is time."