I am not sure at what point it is okay to write about something. In some ways writing is therapeutic and helps me get my thoughts together. But in other ways I feel that it is better to let your emotions settle before pouring out your heart for all to see.
For all to read.
For all to critique.
And to be sealed in cyber history.
You might write something you regret. You might write something you are simply feeling and don’t actually really think or believe.
But then again, you might write something raw and something true.
I am, by all definitions if there was one, a feeler. My husband could tell you that I feel things deeply and passionately. I usually don’t get a little upset…instead I fly off the handle because in that moment it actually does mean that much to me and I cannot fathom why anyone else would not understand my perspective.
How can I possibly feel this much and you don’t feel anything at all!?
Yes, I can look in the mirror and say, “You have a problem. Chill out. Breathe.” But that doesn’t stop or change how I actually feel.
As I get older I do find that I am better able to discipline myself to forgo displaying my emotions in that very moment. I tell myself that my feelings do not always have to be expressed even if I do feel like I am about to burst…you won’t burst, Megann. Or at least I don’t think you will. Or you haven't yet…..but you might. Regardless, I guess it is a risk you have to take!
Yesterday morning I woke up to the news that 4 men were brutally attacked and killed in a synagogue in West Jerusalem (later in the day a 5th man died). These men weren’t just shot and killed—two Palestinians attacked them with “meat cleavers” and guns. Innocent men were brutally and cruelly murdered in their place of worship.
And I suppose what shook me up the most was the image that shows a tallit and a prayer book covered in blood. I am not surprised that this image caused such a flood of emotions because I remember how I felt during a visit to Auschwitz where we viewed tallit after beautiful tallit on display.
I wondered about the men who wore them and the women and children who loved them. I wonder about the families. I wonder about the babies. I wondered about all the important life events that had happened around these beautiful prayer shawls whose owners had been turned to ash partly because of the symbolism and the meaning of these Jewish cloths.
To me, the tallits hung in solemn abandonment and were still mourning and speaking to this very day.
I will be honest when I say that I realize that to me a tallit represents my father. He has worn one in ministry for so long now that I don’t even remember him ministering without one. And my favorite, most cherished tallit, was his black tallit that he married Paul and I in. A tallit that was so similar to the tallit covered in blood that I cannot get the image out of my head.
I cannot shake it.
This particular tallit was symbolic of so many things to me. I might mention that he actually gave the tallit away a few years after Paul and I got married and I had a meltdown. I had one of those feeling moments. I so wanted our children to be wrapped and dedicated in that tallit. And in the back of my heart I still hope it will someday somehow be returned to us.
Regardless, my father now wears a very similar black tallit. This tallit has been worn for marriages, it has been laid on the sick, it has been wrapped around newborn babies, it has gone through surgery with one of my dearest friends, it was there for other dear friends and the birth of their first child, it has rested on the anointed heads and the shoulders of thousands as a symbol of being under the healing wings of our heavenly Father.
My father’s tallit represents My Father…my Father God. It represents His touch. It represents His covering. It represents the peaceful shadow of His wings.
Is there power in a tallit itself? No.
But it does represent and symbolize the awesome power, healing, love, anointing and authority of our God. It symbolizes the key of David and a people covered in His wings. The knots of the tzitzit symbolize the names of the Almighty Powerful God, His commandments, and all that He is.
Elohim- All Powerful Creator
Jehovah Rapha- The Lord who Heals
Jehovah Jireh- Provider
There was something completely devastating and provoking for me to see a tallit, just like my daddy’s wear, covered in innocent blood. To see the knots that represent His name bloodstained and to see the open prayer book bleeding directly beside it…
A prayer book that very likely contained the words:
May it be Your will, G-d, our G-d and the G-d of our fathers, that You should lead us in peace and direct our steps in peace, and guide us in peace, and support us in peace, and cause us to reach our destination in life, joy, and peace.
Save us from every enemy and ambush, from robbers and wild beasts on the trip, and from all kinds of punishments that rage and come to the world. May You confer blessing upon the work of our hands and grant me grace, kindness, and mercy in Your eyes and in the eyes of all who see us, and bestow upon us abundant kindness and hearken to the voice of our prayer, for You hear the prayers of all. Blessed are You G-d, who hearkens to prayer.
My heart feels sick over what took place in the synagogue in Jerusalem. I am literally without words to express the emotions that I feel so deeply on the inside. I feel shocked. I feel rattled. I feel angry. I feel scared.
But I feel sure.
I feel sure and passionate about our message and about the power of our God. I am crying out to Him to speak to us with direction for the best possible way to reach His people around the world with the message of the gospel and the message of restoration found in the One New Man.
When I first read about the attack I remembered my father’s wisdom that the only answer to peace in the Middle East is Yeshua, Jesus. His salvation is the only answer to stop the terror.
I am truly honored that my family has sown their lives to bring a message of salvation, peace, and hope—a message that is needed now more than ever for men, women, children, Americans, Europeans, Asians, Jews, Arabs…everyone.
This is not the first time in history that innocent Jewish blood was shed and sadly it will not be the last. But I am trusting that the names that are represented in the blood stained tzitzit will show themselves strong because He is truly El Roi…the God who sees.