The Western Wall

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From my journal: My heart started pounding when I first saw it. I could hardly believe it. I stood back for awhile, trying to imagine Your House on top of that retaining wall instead of that ugly golden pimple. I was very aware of the fact that YOU had brought me there. Literally, through this whole trip, it seems like You cleared the pth, like You're taking me by th hand and saying, "Come on, I want to show you everything."

And then, You brought me to that last remaining wall, washed smooth by so many tears. Stepping close to the wall, gingerly reaching out to touch it, then moving my body closer to it with an almost passionate familiarity, rubbing the stones with my fingers like I would Sonny's hand, I felt as if I was a lost child, coming to finally see what remains of my Abba's granderous house. I pressed against it, tipping my head back and looking up into the dark, dark sky, and I felt like saying, "Let me in!"

Honestly, I felt frustrated. It seemed that the wall was keeping me out of where I was supposed to be. If felt like a barrier. I cried out of frustration...maybe even anger.

Then i asked the question that has been asked by probably every tear-filled pilgrim at the Kotel: "Why are You taking so long?" Why did you leave, Abba? Why are you taking so long in coming back? Have you left us? That house has been in ruins for so long. If we build another, will You com? I cried then because it seemed so lonely. So desolate.

I didn't like feeling angry at You, but I think I did. I don't think I've ever heard that emotion mentioned by a pilgrim before. If anything, I should feel angry on Your behalf. I should cry for You because Your home was destroyed. I should be trying to comfort You instead of feeling offended at Your decision to leave.

While I stood there in front of those cold stones, a breeze blew over me...

...as if You were sighing sadly...

And it started raining...

...as if You were shedding tears.

Then I cried for You...

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