Unburdened: A pre-Rosh Hashana Reflection

I wrote a prayer at 40, and now, in the month leading up to Rosh Hashana, I have been thinking deeply about my connection to G-d.

My prayer path has always been tenuous. Well, I shouldn't say always. I remember loving to pray as a kid. I was probably a bit self-righteous about it. I still remember being eight or nine in shul, mid-davening, giving a stern "shhh" to someone who tried to talk to me. Classic kid stuff. But around age 12, things shifted. The "whys" started creeping in.

As an adult, those "whys" are easier to bear because I have autonomy and four decades of learning under my belt. But back then, I didn't have that grounding; just the overwhelming emotions of a 12-year-old paired with the existential questioning of an old soul. Why was I given the burden of thinking so deeply, so early?

Earlier this year, I went to Israel and experienced a profound transformation; feeling, for the first time, like I could talk to G-d simply as He is and as I am. Later, I traveled to Australia for a ritual of closure: forgiving my past and laying down the heavy history connected to that place. Yet, even in this season of letting go, my davenning hasn't always felt consistent. I used to wonder why G-d would even want my prayers, especially when they’ve so often been angsty and needy.

Now, I think I’m finally at a place where I can acknowledge the truth: asking "why" all my life has caused me more pain than clarity. It wasn't fair to carry that weight as a child, but it’s also not my job to figure out why G-d made me so sensitive. I am done asking the whys. I am done carrying a burden that was never mine to hold. I am placing the "why" right back with G-d, where it belongs and where it can be handled.

My job is simply to pray, and let Him do the rest.

And so I pray:

G-d,

I praise You for being the Creator of my life, for knowing me completely, and for holding my future even when I cannot see it.

I thank You for the life You have already given me: for my family, for the people who love me, for the abilities and opportunities You have placed within me, and for every blessing I sometimes forget to notice. Thank You for carrying me through what has been difficult.

I ask You to heal my heart and make me whole. Help me release what I cannot control and trust that my life is not passing me by. Please bring me the love, marriage, children, home, purpose, and belonging that are right for me. Give me the wisdom to recognize what is truly meant for me and the courage to walk toward it.

When I feel jealous, afraid, or forgotten, remind me that another person’s blessings do not diminish mine. Help me bless what I cannot understand, without abandoning my own longing.

Give me peace in the waiting, strength for today, and emunah that You are still writing my story.

May I walk through today with an open heart, knowing that I am held, guided, and never forgotten.