Nothing I learn ever comes easy. I wish it did. I even have prayed that it would; yet now I know that this is just the way it’s meant to be. Any lesson with substance requires hard work.
It was Shabbat afternoon; I was sitting at the luncheon table with Shirley. She was telling me about the possibility of a gift shop for the synagogue’s members but didn’t know how it could be possible because they didn’t have the available space.
A year ago, while I was out of work, I noticed the temple plants needed watering, so I tended to them as best I could. Then I got a job and my time was no longer my own, but luckily someone else took on the job I had started. Next, Rabbi Randy asked me to help out one evening with the singles events and I readily accepted. I sent emails, schlepped around to get refreshments, even made some simple floral arrangements for ambiance when we met at the vacant house one night. Each time we met, I did my part to help keep the conversation open for creating a safe space for singles to meet to just enjoy themselves. Two of the women in our group went on to work at other temples and started their own singles groups, which are now thriving. Yet, there are only so many single Jews, and as theirs grew, ours dwindled.
Now, listening to Shirley, I was ready to say, “I’ll help,” when I stopped myself. The reminder of all the things I started, but didn’t get the chance to finish were serving as proof that I shouldn’t even consider myself capable. I told her how I felt. With a startled look on her face, she listened as I explained. I wasn’t looking for a “pity party,” it was just a fact I was starting to recognize – that I didn’t finish what I started. Shirley suggested I talk to Maggie about my concerns. As we said our good-byes, I told her that just for her I would talk to Maggie when the time was right. What I hadn’t mentioned was that one lesson I have indeed learned is that the answers really rest inside and it’s a search I have to do for myself.
The next week, just before services I saw Shirley again and suggested that one possibility they might consider would be to make a virtual gift shop on the synagogue’s website. It wouldn’t take up any space; they could post pictures and descriptions of the items; and when people were ready to buy, they could come to the office to pick up the item.
As often happens, in the middle of services that morning, Rabbi Randy said something that triggered a thought. I got my pen and booklet out and wrote it down so I couldn’t lose it: Those things I was saying I didn’t finish – well, maybe I wasn’t meant to finish them.
I’d been brainwashed since early childhood that you finish what you start – anything short of finishing just didn’t make it. But now I realize something different. That thought – you must finish what you start – doesn’t leave room for co-creating. Starting something that I may never finish is a whole lot better than never starting it at all. Someone has to plant the seed, and now that I look at it, our lives are about planting those seeds. For me, those seeds are the seeds of possibilities for others. Sometimes it’s being their eyes when they can’t see hope for themselves. Sometimes it’s just listening to what they want for themselves and helping them realize it through supporting them along the way.
I know now that there are, and will be, some things I’m not meant to finish. This reality has been a hard one to digest indeed. I may never see what part I’ve played in my contributions. And now - I know - it’s okay. This is what real faith is about for me. I need to trust in God and have faith that the part I played was indeed exactly what I was meant to do – nothing more, nothing less – and, even if it looks to me as if it is less!
So… as it would happen, after services I met up with Maggie and the time was right. In my search, the answer came and I was now ready to talk it through. She smiled while I was explaining how I came to understand and accept my part of the total puzzle. I could accept it, knowing I no longer need to be frustrated when I don’t see the end in sight, nor the results of my efforts. You see, I know that life doesn’t all begin and end with me! Each little thing I’ve done to contribute leads toward someone else taking up the torch and carrying it on. It’s the relay race of life!
Maggie invited me into class that day. She passed around the handouts. After a few minutes of taking turns reading, I received my confirmation that I had indeed learned my lesson She read:
2:16: He would say, “It is not up to you to finish the work, yet you are not free to avoid it.
Maggie stopped reading and we exchanged smiles. Yes, I had indeed learned my lesson. God started it, we keep it going, and we will all be there… at the finish.