Hashem Hu Haelokim

"Why are you crying?", he asks me. He's 7. I doubt he would understand.

"I'm not crying", I tell him.

"Then why are there tears coming from your eyes?"

I want to tell him, because I got lost driving here, my phone died, and I drove around for an hour with no idea where I was going, watching the sun set and knowing Yom Kippur was coming.

I want to tell him, because I am tired and running on no sleep, because my friend's grandmother passed away this morning, and it hit me harder than normal.

I want to tell him, how scary it was to be lost, knowing I was so close to my destination but making so many wrong turns that I was getting farther and farther away.

I want to tell him, how relieved I was to speak to his father and be reassured that I was very close, that the street that looked unfamiliar was actually their street, only I was at the other end of it and had to keep driving straight for miles.

I want to tell him how excited I was to see him and his family, how I just kept repeating in my head over and over 'keep driving straight' until finally, finally, I made it.

I want to tell him how close I was to losing it and falling apart on the road, but I kept hearing a voice in my head telling me to 'relax'.

I want to tell him, how I called my father and heard him bless me over the phone, I just wanted to say, 'Abba, I was lost and I was scared and I just want you to make it better', but I'm 24 and no one can make it better anymore.

He's 7. He wouldn't understand.

But HE would.

I cried through maariv. And at the end of the fast, when we say 7 times 'Hashem Hu Haelokim', I realized that He is my father, that He is the one and only G-d, and He is the only one that can make it better.

I was lost, and I found my way back.

It doesn't matter how many times you fall, it matters how many times you pick yourself up and keep going.

May my prayers on Yom Kippur help give me the strength to keep going throughout the year, and keep getting back up after every fall.

Shavua Tov, and Shana Tova.