The most REAL conversation with God I've EVER read

When you say I'm done with you and I'm never talking to you again and I can't believe you did this and if you're really my father why didn't you if you don't believe in God you're not angry at him. There are a lot of people who come to shul and they say every word in that moxer but they didn't have any real moment of they didn't have any one real second of conversation or connection or communion with their creator. I wanted to read to you the following email but be ready for it because you may not. It's it's painful. It's powerful. It's real. is raw. I'll tell you the postcript to it. It shook me to my core because it articulated something that I hope none of us are feeling entirely but I think and I wonder if maybe some of us are feeling partially and if we're not feeling it now we're not feeling it this year maybe have felt before or fear we'll feel in the future. Okay. So with that dramatic introduction, you ready? This is someone shared with me their letter to God on era of rash. I write this to you God because the time for apologies has come to an end. I'll express this in no uncertain terms. You have hurt me. You have abused and tortured me. You have taunted and judged me. In my hour of need, you abandoned me. You have condemned me to loneliness and envy. You elected every moment to continue to subject me to pain, which drains the little hope I still have for things in my life to improve. I've been aware of all this for a while, but the time has come for me to say it. You dare call yourself a merciful father, a father who treats his children like you deserve nothing but the staunchest condemnation? You willingly subject humanity to horrors unimaginable and claim to be a god of kindness and compassion. If you are, as they say you are, omnipotent, omnisient, omnipresent, then it is within your power to reverse the sadistic creation you fashioned, and yet you continuously choose to prop it up. Here's what I have to say to you. Nearly a decade of dedication to you, your laws, what I thought was your will. Go on. I'd like you to think about the thousands of times I've prayed, put on till kept shabas, pushed normal thoughts of girls out of my developing brain, and castigated myself when I didn't. I slaved away over a Gomorrah for years, bored to tears and pressured to meet toxic social standards because I thought it would make you love me. Well, so be it. You've hurt me, and this time I'm going to remember it. Of course, what I'd like to say is that I'm going to hurt you, too. But if you are as they say you are, that's not quite something I or anyone else can do. Fine. I accept that hurting you is beyond my control. Fortunately for me, you decided to grant me free will, and oh, I'm itching to use it. This mouth will never utter another word of praise or thanks to you. The source of my pain and misfortune. I'll dedicate my arms and legs and ears to helping those in need because you've abandoned them too. I will forever ru the day your cruel masochism decided to plant me in this traumatic world to suffer and scream. How many times have I prayed to you to heal me, to comfort and console me, to show me the purpose of my pain? You've left me unanswered. You've stood me up. You've left me. And so I leave you, too. May you know the pain of a parent witnessing their child turn his back and walk away. May you feel the sthing grief that darkens my days and slashes my guts. May your eyes flood with tears shed over losing your son forever. I don't want you to explain anything anymore. I don't want to hear from you at all. I'm done asking questions and I'm done reaching out. I suppose the next time I see you will be whenever you decide to pluck me from this world and stand me up before your kangaroo court to judge me as a wicked man for defending myself. Until then, please don't talk to me. Don't communicate with me. I'll never forget what you've done to me and I know you won't either. This Rashashana, I'll be doing something of my own. I hope it was worth it. That's that's maybe the most real, raw, authentic, powerful letter I ever read in my life. And I want to address it because that's what this other email essentially saying. How do you reconcile all these challenges and all these problems? The health of her husband with her parnasa with the waiting and the longing and the loneliness of her daughter and all that combination of like where are you? Where are you? It's easy to see, oh, I saw your hand. I got the parking spot. The thing worked out. The flight was delayed. Ah, it turned out ah embrace your place. But when you're waiting and you're longing and you're wondering and you're nervous and you're anxious and and you get that letter from an anonymous email address. So I I'll tell you what I wrote back. This is what I wrote back and I'm reading it because I want to share with you not only and saying it to him but saying it to you and anyone else who's listening and anyone else. Like I said, I hope that no one here says that's exactly how I feel. But I wonder if anyone here doesn't say that's a little bit, a little bit, a little bit, a little bit. With hostages still held and families still grieving and people still suffering and people we know and love and maybe some in this room who are still in such pain like where are you? Au Malcu, you're Aino. If you're our father and you can, why don't you intervene and intercede? Why don't you step in and provide? Why don't you answer in the positive what I'm waiting and longing and wanting and asking? So, here's what I wrote back. I've read and reread this so many times, and each time it breaks my heart and brings tears to my eyes. I'm beyond sorry for your pain and experiences. I found your words so real, authentic, and profound. And while they're written to write off, Hashem, I see them as one of the greatest expressions of amuna I've ever read. If you didn't believe he's real, you wouldn't bother being angry, disappointed with him, or walking away from him. And so you're walking away is in fact an enormous demonstration of walking towards maybe on rash sh if you don't want to open a mer print this out and read it to him scream it at him if you want to communicate further if I can help in any way I'm honored and grateful that you shared it and so on since then the person has revealed himself to me and we uh had a big hug because he was in shulan rashana with a talis and a moxer I saw him the other day here dinging chakras And that means to say reminds me Eloiseel once wrote after the Holocaust about putting Hashem on trial. That the survivors of the Holocaust, he wrote very poignantly Weisel about after the Holocaust putting Hashem on trial. And he describes very dramatically all the evidence and all the testimony and the conviction of Hashem that ultimately Hashem is found guilty of this great atrocity of the Holocaust. And Weisel ends at the basin after finding God guilty gives a clop and says Hashem is guilty as charged but the sun is setting we have to d. That's the image of Elizel. That's the image of the Holocaust survivors. Hashem is guilty but we have to dive in. Now it's time to dive into him to walk towards him to hug him to feel his hug. What I'm trying to say is that you can feel these things simultaneously. And when one does, and when one does, and this may be radical, and maybe some people listening may not be so happy with it, [snorts] maybe people will dig up sources that say that I'm wrong, but I'll match them by digging up those that will tell you that I'm right because this is not my own opinion, but it's part of our rich tradition that when a person is angry or disappointed at Hashem, it's not a failure or breakdown of amuna. In some ways, it's the ultimate expression of amuna. When you say, "I'm done with you and I'm never talking to you again and I can't believe you did this. And if you're really my father, why didn't you?" If you don't believe in God, you're not angry at him. There are a lot of people who come to shul and they say every word in that moxer, but they didn't have any real moment of they didn't have any one real second of conversation or connection or communion with their creator. They could say every word in the m say it slowly have the longest in they could clap every the loudest till you're worried they're breaking the rib cage but they didn't have one second of real connection and the person who comes to shul and whatever the words in the mock are but uses that time to really pour out their heart and have a real conversation where were you where are you how could you when will you gives that clap and says you're guilty of not acting like a father. But now what can I do? Guilty is charged. It's time for