Is My Faith Keeping Me from Talking to G-d?
An unexpected twist in decoding my body's messages.
Hi friends!! You might’ve noticed I sent out this essay a day early instead of tomorrow (Tuesday, my usual day). That’s because I’m recording the Q&A today for next week’s Totally Unexpected! episode (and trust me, it’s gonna be a good one!). I’d love to hear your thoughts, questions, or anything this piece brought up for you before I hit record. You can message me here on Substack, via email, or on Instagram—I’m all ears! - Chavie
Here goes:
This week, I was determined to write something lighter. But here’s the thing—life isn’t super flowy right now. It falls more accurately into the categories of “angst” and “intense.” Since my writing usually reflects where I’m at, so for now (not forever), you can expect to hear about what my therapist has schooled me on this week :), the things I am sitting with (despite my desperate attempts not to), the things I’m learning about myself, and all the stuff in between.
A few weeks ago, out of the blue (but we know better than that—nothing happens out of the blue), I started getting these harsh stomach aches. I’ve experienced this brand of stomach ache before, but it has been years since my last bout. I have done so much healing since then, so, as you can imagine, it was a very unwelcome feeling. Besides being physically draining, it brought up so much fear and frustration. Like, “I thought I figured this out already,” “Why am I back here?” “How do I fix this?” “I don’t want this” … you get the idea.
What I know from my years of work and self-development is that our bodies know what’s up, and we can’t ignore it; it’s getting our attention for a reason. I wish that, along with the body's need for attention, it would also give me some direction on what the message is, where the work is at, and a clear path on how to get there.
I mean, wouldn’t that be amazing?
I know that if I sit with things long enough and make space, I’ll eventually know where the work and growth is at. But here’s the thing—I’m not a dweller. I know how to identify my feelings, and I’m good at intellectualizing my emotions, but I’m not great at being present in my body, fully. I like to move on pretty quickly. There are many times where this has served me well, and there are times where I think it was a hindrance. Now might be one of those times.
So, I go to my therapy appointment armed with all the things that I think might be contributing to my present condition. Maybe I’m in burnout—I mean, it would make sense, and I do present with some of those symptoms. Maybe I have some unresolved anger, which wouldn’t be surprising either. Even if this were true, what do I even do about it? I do all the things that I have access to, ya know? I mean, I just came back from a week in Mexico, for goodness' sake—like, what else does this body/soul of mine want from me?
So, here I was, ranting in quite an animated fashion, and my therapist says to me in his cool, calm way, “So, where is G-d in all of this?” And I’m like, “Whattttttttttt?” And he says, “Well, you’re talking to me about this, and you’ve spoken to your trusted people—have you spoken to G-d?” I was speechless. My therapist isn’t Jewish. He’s secular, not religious at all, but he has known me for a long time and knows how central G-d and faith are in my life.
“Umm, I don’t speak to G-d,” I tell him.
“So,” he says, “why not?”
Oh man, I do not know how to answer that. Why, indeed, don’t I speak to G-d? What does that even mean? What am I even supposed to say to G-d? Faith in G-d has guided me and has been the foundation of my whole life in a very real way. Could it be that I don’t converse with “Him” in my daily life? (I know for some people, they talk to G-d when they pray, but it doesn’t feel like that for me.)
As I sat with this, I had some realizations. I don’t have complete clarity—not in the slightest—but it’s the start of something. I have total faith and acceptance of Hashem’s plan for me, in the sense that, “I don’t always like what’s happening. Often, the trials are really challenging, but I do feel like Hashem knows what’s best for me. This is my path, and it’s now up to me to figure out how to navigate what’s in my control with the ball in my court.”
Yet, I think what’s happening is that my faith (which rocks, by the way—can’t imagine life without it) might be keeping me from a more intimate, personal relationship. When I was posed with the question, “Why aren’t you speaking to G-d?” my thought was, “Well, what should I be saying?” Like, He gave me a challenge, and that is my work and my journey—to figure out the intimacy of my relationship with my Creator.
So, what’s the conversation exactly? Do you get what I’m saying? I’m aware it’s very possible that this is a me problem and that many people have their way to communicate with Hashem. And honestly, I do too, but I don’t think I’m being very intentional and present about it. It’s almost like this default relationship that’s always there, but maybe, just maybe, it needs some more attention.
I’m thinking back to when I was talking to Sara Miriam Smith on the first episode of the Totally Unexpected! podcast, and she was saying how she has coffee dates with G-d. I remember feeling so inspired by that—but also a bit envious because I didn’t know what that looked like or how to do it. I think this might be something that comes more naturally to some people—people who are emotionally present and intuitive. I learned over the years that I tend to be in my head way more than I realized, and it can be harder for me to be present and really feel my feelings, not just feel them intellectually.
The conversation with my therapist didn’t go as I thought it would. We didn’t spend time addressing the possible burnout I’m feeling or what should come on or off my plate. We didn’t talk about anger that might be lurking. All of that is beside the point at this moment.
What I took away from this session, and from some conversations I had with friends afterward, are two things:
How am I going to talk to G-d?
I need to sit with my reality.
I can only sit with my feelings for a limited amount of time, but that is where I find a solution and clarity. I don’t do well with no clear path forward. This is my work, apparently, and I do not like it one bit… maybe I’ll talk to G-d about it :).
Chavie
Awesome!
I love this post! I think it’s very important to sort and sift what you are doing like you are doing!🤓 I think G-D is waiting for each one of us to set aside some real time to focus on what’s important in an intimate way. I recently joined a group of women who encourage each other to spend a set time each day talking to G-D. Guess what? The hardest thing was for me to sit down at the appointed time, and say, “Hi G-D, it’s me, I’m trying this new way of connecting one to one with YOU! Why is this so hard? And why do I feel so uncomfortable and squirmy? I know You, You know me… do you even want this hitbodedut thing? Isn’t hitbonnenut an even better way of connecting?” I set the timer for 8 minutes, surprised the monologue didn’t take 5 minutes 🤔. Then my mind wandered in the awkward minutes of silence left; I said my bedtime Shema, and went to sleep. 😴 no tossing and turning either. Yes, I decided I like it: not every night, not by the timer, and not in comparison to anyone else’s program.
Comparison robs Joy, ( one of my mantras).