I love that my brother and his wife and children were able to come from out of state and share in the celebration of the American national holiday with the rest of us. We did the whole traditional dinner, turkey and all the trimmings. We went around the table and talked about what we were thankful for, and it was a very sweet time.
Before the cooking started though, or at least just after the bird went in the oven, I sought the Lord. I haven't been feeling so great and was pretty run down, and I knew I would need some extra strength for the day. And he responded immediately and conversationally. It was as if he was saying, "Come talk to me." I turned to Psalms (Tehillim) and specifically 42. It opens with the deer panting for water - just like we do for our Lord. Humbly, I must say of late I have been blessed with this thirst and this hunger. As was prayed at our last Shabbat service, we agreed in prayer to ask for increase in hunger, increase in desire for the things of Adonai, of scripture. It blessed me to read this as I so readily identify right now.
At the end of the chapter there are verses that seemed to me as a warning, though they are not usually read that way.
"10b...taunts make me feel as if my bones were crushed, as they ask me all day long, 'Where is your God?'" 11 My soul, why are you so downcast? Why are you groaning inside me? Hope in God, since I will praise him again for being my Savior and God."
Some members of my family have questioned our decision to leave the protestant church and seek the Hebraic roots of our faith. We were going to be spending time with family, but I honestly didn't know what to expect that day. Sometimes that's good!
I had spoken a few months ago with some family members, when questioned, about comments my children made regarding Christmas v. Channukah. At the time our explanations regarding the pagan roots of Christmas were met with frowns, whining, pouts - that was from the adults.
Our menorah is poised at the ready for next week's first lighting. But as soon as the leftovers were put away, a direct request was made for Christmas music. Ugh. I always loved it, but this year it almost arrives with me feeling some disdain.
Then the request turned into a whine, and eventually a demand. And then a discussion about when Jesus was actually born.
So I guess the 'taunt' came in the form of the Christmas music. (Such irony.) While I certainly didn't feel as if my bones were crushed, I did feel the needling. I heard the "where is your God?" While all I really wish for is that their eyes would be opened to the things that we've seen and learned about being believers, I feel as if they are just waiting. Waiting for us to move on to the next thing.
I hope we never do.
I've never felt like things are more right, more true, or more healthy. I don't think that we have all the answers, but I definitely feel like we've found something more, something amazing. And the only interest seems to be to make sure we haven't joined a cult. That's where I feel the bone-crushing. I only long for them to see the richness and the depth of meaning and sacredness and holiness that is right in front of us, and is yet unseen.
I can't wait to learn more. I can't wait till they see.
My hope is in G-d and I will now praise him, my Saviour and my King. And for now I will follow in his steps in celebrating the Festival of Lights, dig through all the layers of meaning, of re-dedication, and figure out what its all about as we go!
