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Andrea Simantov
Living Out Loud

The waiting game

How many of us avoid reminiscing about uncomfortable chapters in our lives? Memories that cause tear ducts to swell and a surge of heat into our cheeks?   You know the memories I’m talking about: The sad, the disappointing, the shameful. 

My figurative Regret File includes a failed 1969 audition for Manhattan’s High School of Performing Arts where I didn’t understand the lunacy of regaling the staff with an interpretation of Martin Luther King’s March on Washington speech.  No one had to say,  “Don’t call us; we’ll call you.”  Or the anxiety that accompanied college applications, and the frantic wait (‘Please, PLEASE God!’) for a fat orientation packet in lieu of a thin envelope, holding the one page rejection?   Perhaps, like me, you still suffer the relentless ache from hours of standing and dancing at a smoke-filled party while squeezed into a pair of stiletto heels, hoping that that attractive someone to whom you gave your phone number will, indeed, call.  Some of us have lists that include troubled marriages, bad divorces, parental/child alienation, the school play you forgot to attend.  It’s all part of a universal experience called The Waiting Game.  Waiting for things to get better.  Waiting for forgiveness.  Waiting for life to reset. 

Jewish tradition emphasizes the importance of patience. The laws of kashrut/keeping kosher introduce discipline to the youngest of children.  While not all of us are equipped with the steely-resolve of Job, satisfaction-on-demand is not a Jewish virtue.  Faith and character building often relies on hearing — and accepting — the word “No.” 

Which brings us to “faith” and “insight.”  Emunah and binah.  Judaism teaches us that our relationship with God is not conditioned upon His “coming through” and automatically saying “Yes” when we pray for something.  Very tough stuff, especially in circumstances where a person’s life or sustenance hangs in the balance.  Developing humility or accessing gratitude in situations is something that has defined Jewish existence since before we received the Torah. 

 It should also be mentioned that the Jewish calendar, rife with myriad holidays and delineated commemorative periods, reflects the ebb and flow that highlights ‘waiting’ and the ensuing brachot.  Counting the Omer from Passover until Shavuot is a light-filled period, while the Three Weeks end with a most poignant expression of mourning: Tisha B’Av.  There is no joy without reflection but we cannot live in a state of despair.   Each season comes with its own respective lessons, guiding the community on how to navigate challenges and embrace blessings.

At the time of this writing, the holy nation of Israel is, once again, glued to news outlets – print and electronic – waiting for a substantive announcement regarding the imminent release of all of the hostages from Gaza.  Those who are alive, those who were murdered, the remains of our holy chayalim who gave their lives so that the nation of Israel and world Jewry continue to prosper.  The families of the aforementioned victims have gone undoubtedly mad, plagued by a condition called “perpetual grief.”  All of Israel has been affected but if the imprisoned isn’t your immediate loved-one, it behooves all of us to withhold judgement on the public, anti-government demonstrations that occur like clockwork.  Even – or especially – if one disagrees with the message or manner that the protestors employ to call attention to their respective plights.   There but for the grace of God goes every one of us. Because even if, please, God!, this agreement reaches fruition before the publication of this article, the story isn’t over.  We are looking ahead at decades of recrimination, healing, therapy,  grief, family disintegration and more.   

The concept of immediate gratification is man-made.  At best, it offers diversions that cannot be sustained among civilized societies. The Torah addresses challenges of “want” versus “need,” and “deservedness” versus “forfeiture.”  Once again, Jews find themselves at an apocalyptic, historical  intersection that demands unimaginable stores of faith, kindness and resolve.  And despite the hovering clouds, I believe with all of my heart that we are worthy of His blessings and will rise to the challenges that lay ahead.

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(Reprinted with permission of San Diego Jewish Journal, February, 2025)

About the Author
New York-born Andrea Simantov moved to Jerusalem in 1995. Writer, podcast host (israelnewstalkradio.com), life-coach and image consultant. She is spiritual, funny, cries easily (laughs harder), enjoys caravanning, celebrating her Jewishness and is always up for her next big adventure. With six children, 22 grandchildren and a mostly tolerant husband, life is busy, passionate and always evolving.