Here’s how I usually get my blog going; I read the Torah portion for the week on Sunday first thing. As I’m reading, I’m noticing what stands out for me out of all the elements and stories, in Hebrew and in English.

As the days pass, I become very mindful of what’s going on in my life and the world, looking for connections.

About mid-week I start to panic a little if I haven’t had any inspiration.

And here I am, Thursday afternoon, and I’ve got nothing! I’ve listened to tons of podcasts, the news, learned so much about so many interesting, wonderful, and horrible things, but still, nothing (and I’m definitely panicking now).

All I’ve got is prayer.

Is this the crowd to talk to about prayer? Some of you, maybe. I am becoming a rabbi, so you all must know that I’m into prayer, but…well, you know how I grew up: “There is no God, and prayer is for the ignorant.”

But that’s how the parsha starts this week. It begins with the word for which it is named, Va’etchanan, which is Moses’ telling of his plea to God. (That’s a prayer, when you’re talking to God directly.)

But we all do that, too, don’t we? Who among us hasn’t pleaded with the air around us, to some invisible thing, when we are in a state of desperation, even when we know we’re probably not going to hear an answer. (And if we claimed to hear one, and told a friend, or our therapist, they might panic a little and want to probe further and make sure—God forbid—we’re not hearing voices in general, right?)

But when we say please to God, are our pleas always the right ones? Don’t we sometimes imagine that something would be just perfect—if only—and we later realize it was all wrong?

This week in Torah, Moses continues with his life review as he retells the story of the Israelites’ treck towards freedom. Of course, Moses’ story is very much intertwined with their story.

Right at the beginning, he retells word for word, in a heart-wrenching way, of a conversation with God; “I begged, I pleaded (va’etchanan); have mercy, take pity on me, You, oh amazing God who let me see so many wonders and miracles; You, who have no equal in power on Earth or in heaven, please, please, please let me cross over and see the Promised Land…just this one last thing.”

One might sense a bit of panic in Moses’ desperate plea; he seems to feel he absolutely needs to, at least, step into the land before he dies.

Doesn’t your heart just break for Moses, after all he’s been through? To be cut off from the one thing he’s worked so hard for?

But God was angry at Moses, and yelled, “You’re too much! Stop! Never speak of this to me again!”

Moses blames the people for God’s anger at him; it’s their fault, for being so stubborn and not having enough faith.

One can almost understand why Moses passes off the blame. He’s in pain. And for God to be so angry with him? It’s gotta hurt.

Still, in my opinion, Moses is not being introspective enough; we’ve seen many times when Moses didn’t have enough faith, either. And, frankly, God could use some Anger Management classes or therapy. I mean! To talk to your child in such a way!

And let’s be real; who hasn’t struggled with faith—whether in God or our fellow human beings?

God does make a concession, though, to allow Moses to go up on a mountain and at least see the land before he dies.

But the question remains: is Moses praying for the right thing? Sure, it’s sad that he can’t see the end result of all his work. But does he really need to? Maybe his work is done, and that’s that. Maybe he needs to accept what is. Maybe, too, Moses is not meant to see the end results of all his work. Big deal; he looks out at the land, and all he can do is imagine the future. Does he get the high he was expecting? I wonder.

But maybe sometimes our imaginations are enough. Perhaps our imagination is our power at times. If we imagine things will turn out alright, that we will solve the problems plaguing us, then it means we haven’t given up hope—that we still have faith.

So I guess I did come up with something to write, after all. No need for panic—even a little bit. The stakes aren’t so high here.

But the stakes are very high for a lot of other things that I don’t need to enumerate. And I think many of us are in a panic about these very things.

So, let us pray for equilibrium in everyday life; to know when it’s time to panic, and when it’s not.

Let us not only use the power of our imagination to help us keep our faith alive that we do in fact have the power to fix the problems in our lives and in our world.

And, from a teaching I heard on Tisha B’Av on Sunday this week with Hadar, let us have clarity that we’re praying for the right things.

And let us say, Amen.