Tomorrow is Yom HaShoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day. This year the Holocaust is hitting home for me in a way that it never has before. Oh, in the past I would cover my ears and run away screaming when people went into detail, while now I can sit through whole classes on the topic. That's not what I mean. I mean that I am better able to picture myself going through it.
I can see myself being forced into a ghetto, then a concentration camp, leaving the people and things that I loved behind. I understand more now the tragedy of the death of a 21-year-old, let alone five-year-olds, whose lives were cut short with so much potential. These thoughts and images do not scare me, for I know I am using my imagination to help me remember something I never experienced, but I have never felt this...heavy before.
In many places, there is a practice to have a 24-hour name-reading vigil on Yom HaShoah, at which names of victims are read aloud from death lists. I only know one name, but I will write it here several times. Please say it aloud when you see it:
"Don't tell God how big your storm is; tell your storm how big your God is."
I believe in God.
I believe in God.
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- I am a bipolar, Jewish young adult (had my Hebrew birthday, the one I count, and turned 23 this past January) who also suffers from Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy. I love life and I live for my best friends: they are my purpose and my reason for trying so hard. I remain passionately devoted to those I love; I will not let my disorders make me totally self-centered. I like to read, write, and sew. My Rabbinical school plans did not work out, and I am now hoping to go into the field of Early Childhood Education. Please note: I am currently maintaining only Carried in His Hands. Enjoy!