The mezuzah on the door post and Magen David hanging by our front door.

For the last couple of months, two ladies who are Jehovah’s Witnesses have been stopping by our house every third week or so. They are very aware of my status as a Jew because the posts by my front door make it clear where I land on matters of the spirit.

While I am firmly rooted in my “religion” (I put that word in quotes because Judaism is so much more to me than just a religious practice), I also believe in being kind.

 I know that a lot of doors are shut in their faces because people can be rude to evangelizers; I’m unwilling to do that myself. The two ladies are aware that my brother died a little over three months ago and they are quick to want to talk to me about God’s love and how God did not cause my brother’s death or the pain that has fallen on my family. I very much agree with this sentiment, so I was happy to discuss it.

(Aside – It’s Thanksgiving week and because of all the emotions that family-centered holidays bring, I’ve found myself very raw and sad since last night because I’m missing my brother and my father.)

Anyway, we began discussing biblical passages, so I ran inside and grabbed my Hebrew bible so that I could read my preferred translation.  That discussion segued into one about the Psalms and it was at that moment that I was hit with a reminder that I desperately needed – comfort to my aching soul is found within the beautiful prose of Psalms. They shared their favorite Psalms with me (37 and 150) and I shared mine with them (121) and as I read through them all, I felt a sense of peace that has eluded me lately. They reminded me of words that can bring me comfort in these long moments of grief, of words into which I can escape, and of words that have comforted people over the millennia.  That sense of relief that washed over me was so profound that I hugged both ladies and thanked them for blessing me. They seemed a bit surprised but were happy to hug me back.  They were, in that moment, exactly what I needed – the human deliverers of a timeless message, regardless of belief/faith/religion. We are ages apart when it comes to beliefs, but in some things we share roots, and those roots helped guide me today. For that, I am thankful.