I grew up in my Grandmother’s home with my parents and older brother.  It was an Orthodox Jewish home meaning we ate only Kosher food, and lit candles on Friday evening to welcome the Sabbath with the traditional challah bread and blessings over the home.
       When I was six years old, I begged my parents to allow me to attend Hebrew school. I loved learning the language though I was not taught the history behind my heritage. My Hebrew education lasted for six years. Most of my Jewish education was gained through living the traditions of my people.
To be a good Jew, I learned to observe the Sabbath, eat no pork, attend synagogue, and on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur atone for all my sins.

As a child I attended the synagogue but also attended church occasionally with my Christian friends. I learned that Jesus was a Jewish carpenter, who traveled much to help people, to heal those that needed healing, performing miracles and eventually gave himself up to be crucified on the cross. I also learned that we Jews did not accept him as the Messiah to come. Rather, one day the Jewish Messiah would come and we would be lifted up and welcomed into heaven’s gate to be with him.

Still, I grew up wondering why Jesus was not our Messiah in general, and why He could not be my Messiah in particular.

At the age of 18, I met Mel. The following year we were married in an Orthodox Jewish ceremony.  Mel was also raised in a traditional Jewish home and we tried to raise our two sons to love their heritage, having them Bar Mitzvahed in our local synagogue.

I worked all my adult life, except for the early years of raising our sons. It’s ironic but I thought I would be a stay-at-home mom who would cook and take care of her family. I thought I would always be present in the home to watch my children grow up to become the wonderful adults they are today. That was not to be my lot in life. Am I complaining? No! God’s plan for me was something else.

It turns out I would have conversations about Jesus with an associate at my work. Because of my interest my co-worker went so far as to proclaim to me that in reality I was really a “closet Christian.” In retrospect when I consider this time I realize that God was drawing me to Himself and I was being led to  follow Him over those years.

Last winter, through a door-to-door invitation to a Bible study in our Charlotte neighborhood, I found a small community of people who loved learning God’s Word. This was something I had always desired and my husband and I were welcomed warmly as we discussed the issues of Scriptures each week. Knowing that we were Jewish one of the women in the study invited us to the Hope of Israel Congregational Passover Banquet. It was at that Passover where I realized that perhaps Hope of Israel Congregation might be able to provide the spiritual answers and nurturing I longed for.

The next morning I attended their Shabbat services for the first time and felt like I had found my home. After a few weeks of attending the services I realized that Jesus is my true Messiah and on April 25th 2009 I prayed to receive Him as my Savior. When I told Mel he responded, “Well don’t expect me to believe in Him, but you do as you please.”

That was Mel’s initial response but after about a month of coming to services and having his questions answered Mel invited Messiah into his life too!

Now, a full year and one Passover later, we are continuing to build our lives on the solid foundation of the Word of God. We have both been immersed and are serving members at Hope of Israel Congregation, continually growing there in discipleship. Throughout our lives, God has blessed Mel and me with beautiful children, grandchildren and friendships, but now we are complete in His peace, as even the Scriptures assure us (Romans 5:1).