9 Elul 5773
By Lisa Ackerman
I have been searching for what seems to be too long. Searching for you, to find you, to know you, to take comfort in your existence, to complain, to beg and plead, to negotiate, to express my gratitude, to question, to love.
Sometimes, I am conscious of a glimpse of you around the corner, a ringing in my ear or a brush against my arm. You are on the tip of my tongue. Almost, almost there, but….not.
Perhaps my eyesight is too poor. My vision has never been strong. On most days, I find the demands of my children, the ringing of the phone, the underlying din of wars, elections, natural disasters and Facebook to drown out my thoughts, let alone your voice.
So, I made a list today of the times I thought I almost touched you as I passed you on my way:
- Waking up to a warm little body snuggled up against me;
- When I managed a rare cup of coffee in the stillness of dawn before my children rose from bed;
- When I inhaled the scent of grass and sunshine in my children’s hair;
- That moment between the time my husband leaned in to kiss me and the instant his lips touched mine;
- The giggle I heard from the hiding place behind the couch;
- The taste of that warm cherry tomato I picked from the garden;
- The softness of my baby’s cheek as it brushed against mine;
- Hearing the sound of my own laughter when I gave in to my husband’s attempts to make me laugh.
- Listening to the rhythmic and slowing breathing of my children drifting off to sleep;
- Tucking in for the night and feeling at peace during that in between time when I am neither fully awake nor fully asleep.
I think that was you. I dare not think too much about it lest I convince myself otherwise.
Please God, draw closer to me. Show me how to know you. Teach me how to love you. Please. Please.
P.S. A burning bush would be nice, but I’ll take a friendship on Facebook.