On the Ground in Venezuela


4 min view
4 min read
6 min read
4 min read
Once a year, Judaism gives you permission to stop being strong. Here's a simple writing exercise to help you feel what you've been holding in.
At first glance, Tisha B'Av can seem like one of Judaism's most difficult holidays to understand. It commemorates the destruction of both Temples in Jerusalem and countless tragedies that followed throughout Jewish history. We fast, sit on the floor, dim the lights, and read the Book of Lamentations along with ancient poems of mourning known as Kinot.
For many people it can feel like a day devoted to remembering a tragedy that happened nearly 2,000 years ago. But it’s not only about the past, it’s about our present lives.
Every Jewish holiday carries its own spiritual energy. Passover is about freedom. Sukkot is about joy and trust. Tisha B'Av is also a holiday, a holiday of mourning.
Throughout the year, Judaism encourages you to live with hope, gratitude, and resilience. There is one day a year when you are given permission to put that aside and you don't have to pretend you’re okay. You’re invited to sit with what hurts.
Some of the deepest encounters happen when you sit with the truth of your pain.
The Book of Lamentations calls Tisha B'Av a moed, which means both a festival and a sacred meeting place. Because some of the deepest encounters you have, with yourself, with one another, and with God, happen when you sit with the truth of your pain.
The destruction of the Temple wasn't only the loss of a magnificent building, it marked the beginning of a world in which God's presence became hidden. You can know He is here, but often struggle to feel that closeness.
You pray, yet sometimes wonder if anyone is listening.
You hope, yet continue waiting.
You search for meaning in experiences that make no sense.
That feeling of confusion, of longing, of deep loneliness, is part of what it means to live in exile.
Last year, as I was preparing for Tisha B'Av, I found myself thinking about the ancient Kinot that Jews have recited for generations. What would happen if I took a few minutes to write some words of my own?
I invited a group of women to try this exercise. They wrote lamentations about illness, family discord, broken dreams and relationships that hurts. Some wrote about feeling disconnected from God. The details were completely different but the emotions underneath were remarkably similar. It helped them connect to their own personal struggles, to each other and to God.
Perhaps you can do the same.
For one day this year, face the pain that you are holding in your heart. Share your questions with God, your disappointments and your grief.
Tisha B’av is a moed, a holy meeting place. A day to meet your own truth and to connect to God from that pain.
This year, try this simple exercise. Turn off your phone and set aside 15 quiet minutes. Write your own personal lamentation.
Begin by asking yourself one question: What am I grieving right now?
Don't overthink it.
Write for ten minutes without worrying about grammar or making it sound beautiful.
Just be honest. Give yourself permission to face the deepest griefs of your heart.
When you finish, read what you've written slowly.
Afterward, ask yourself: If you'd have the courage to face the pain in its entirety, what would change inside yourself?
Write about that for another few minutes.
And lastly, What does my dream of redemption or salvation look like?
Write about that.
When you finish, read over your writing and think about what you discovered about yourself.
The Jewish calendar reminds us that mourning is never the end of the story. Just a few days after Tisha B'Av comes Tu B'Av, a holiday associated with love, connection, and new beginnings. Judaism insists that even after destruction, rebuilding is possible.
That is the hidden gift of Tisha B'Av.
It is a day given to you so that you don’t have to be strong, so that you can cry. It is the day you can meet the pain of your heart, be with it, and connect to God from that place of true holiness.
