You’ll find it, because it’s the truth: This is where you belong, this is your avodah, and this is what you want

TOmy high school self,

I get it. It’s hard to go to shul.

You’re tired from a long week in school. Your bed is warm. Your toes, when you poke them out of the blanket, are cold. There’s a good book waiting on the couch downstairs.

But you go anyway, because it’s Shabbos, it’s Yom Tov, and shul is the place where you belong. Sometimes. Often. Shul slips into your routine, out of it again. Every so often you hear something, read something, and you start again. It feels good — afterward.

You go for a few months, then you fall out of the habit again. You kind of enjoy the long and lazy Shabbos mornings, but also feel empty and yucky afterward, like you know you could’ve done better. Some weeks later, you’re back in shul again.