Amy's Blog

The number 40 in the Jewish tradition holds a unique spot in our history and our psyche. The flood during Noah’s time lasted for 40 days. Moses went up to the mountain to receive the Torah and spoke with God for 40 days and 40 nights. The Hebrew people wandered in the desert for 40 years prior to reaching the land of Israel. The legal status of an embryo changes from “fluid” to “potential life” after the fortieth day. We are forbidden to study the Kabbalah or engage in Jewish metaphysics until we have reached the age of 40.

I am not a superstitious person. In fact, I am downright skeptical about things like palm readers, tarot cards and Ouija boards. Yet I can’t help but think that it was more than just coincidence that my own life-altering experience occurred during the month that I celebrated my fortieth birthday.

It had been a banner year for me. My law practice was booming, my two young children were thriving, and my husband and I celebrated our tenth anniversary – still very much in love. “If only I could stop the clock right now,” I thought, recalling the many times I had heard my father say those words to me when I was little.

Then I got sick; I mean really sick. Things escalated from bad to worse as I lay delirious in bed, my fever inching above 105. It didn’t help that it was New Year’s weekend, when even the most dedicated med-school resident was nowhere to be found. I don’t remember much about that time, thankfully, except for the memory of my family hovering over me and my children asking my husband if I would die. It took several days of my husband’s persistence until we finally realized that I was having an allergic reaction to an antibiotic that I was taking. Weeks of steroids later, I re-entered life with a puffy face and a renewed awareness of how precious each day truly is.

What happened during those few bleak days, however, is what I have come to view as my own personal wake-up call from God. Because during that time something happened inside of me and I soon realized that, like it or not, there was no going back. Four months later, while I was eating breakfast with my husband, I told him about my epiphany.

“I’m thinking of closing my law practice to study Judaism,” I said as I stirred milk into my coffee.

“And I’m thinking of growing my hair out and becoming a rock star,” he crooned.

“No, I mean it. I had this revelation when I was sick. I realized that I don’t want to wake up on the other side of 50 without having taken the risk of going after what I truly believe I am meant to do. I want to study, learn and teach Judaism.”

Several hundred conversations later, I embarked on a journey that has changed my life for the better in ways too numerous to count. I worked hard, studied hard and learned from some of the finest Jewish teachers from Tucson to Jerusalem. I had no idea when I began this journey 13 years ago where it would lead, but I had faith that whatever the outcome, I would be a better person for having made the effort.

I look back on what happened in my fortieth year as more than mere coincidence. There was a reason I got sick, although I certainly didn’t understand it at the time. Whether it happened because of an infection, a faulty medical diagnosis or Divine intervention, it opened the doors of my heart to help me understand something important about my life.

Each of us will encounter difficulties in our lifetime, from financial struggles and failed relationships to personal tragedies and crises of faith. But it is how we respond to what happens to us that determines who we become as we live out our lives. We alone can decide if we will let our experiences become catalysts for personal growth or stumbling blocks to our development. The true mystery lies in whether we will be able to hear that inner voice when it speaks to us about our life and the choices we have made. And when we do hear it, whether we will have the courage to follow it when it requires us to change.

Jewish tradition teaches that although everything is anticipated by God, each one of us is the author of our own actions, accountable for our choices. Sometimes it is hard to explain – to ourselves and to others – why we act the way we do. But in moments of personal enlightenment, a spark of the Divine can be seen. The Talmudic rabbis said it beautifully when they wrote: “All is foreseen, but freedom of choice is given; and the world is judged with goodness, and all is in accordance with the works.”

( Pirkei Avot 3:15)

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