Feasting on Joy

It is the last day of Sukkot (the Feast of Tabernacles), and I am in a reflective mood.

"Live in booths for seven days... do your descendants will know that I had Israelites live in booths when I brought them out of Egypt. I am the Lord your God." (Leviticus 23:42-43)

"Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands... while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened...  We live by faith, not by sight.  We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body, and at home with the Lord.  So we make it our gal to please him, whether we are at home n the body or away from it." (2 Corinthians 5:1, 4, 7-9)

In regards to the sukkah (the booth)... This is the point:  All this, too, shall pass.  Hold lightly the things of this world - possessions, ability, achievements, disappointments, even grief - for all these things are temporary.  they will pass with our "earthly tent" and this world as we know it.  All these things will be replaced by joy (2 Cor. 5)!  Certainly the rituals of the daily grind happen in the sukkah like they do in the house - meals, gatherings, cleaning, rest... What sets it apart is the reminder that our surroundings (mind-numbing-and-at-the-same-time-overwhelming circumstances, day-in-and-day-out-life, never-quite-belonging-context, my-world-versus-your-world) are temporary, and in that context we are to find joy through thanksgiving.

Have you ever asked God, "Exactly what do you have in mind for me in this place?"  That question generally appears when you are in a place of seemingly aimless wandering.  You see God.  You don't doubt Him, but when you look around the immediate present of your life you realize that you are in a desolate and difficult place with no hope of purpose.  Isn't that the situation of the Israelites in the desert... for 40 years?!

And so enters the significance of Sukkot (the Feast of Tabernacles).

"... after you have gathered the crops of the land, celebrate the festival of the Lord for seven days...  rejoice before the Lord for seven days..." (Leviticus 23:39-40)

"Be joyful at your Feast - you, your sons and daughters, your menservants and maidservants, and the Levites, the aliens, the fatherless and the widows who live in your towns (ahem... EVERYONE).  For seven days celebrate the Feast to the Lord your God at the place the Lord will choose.  For the Lord your God will bless you in all your harvest and in all the work of your hands, and your joy will be complete." (Deuteronomy 16:14-15)

The whole concept of God choosing the place of worship is quite thought provoking.  The design of the tabernacle is to be assembled for atonement and thanksgiving wherever God has placed the worshiper.  It wasn't always on a mountaintop with a breathtaking view of the world around you.  Most times He calls for the tabernacle to be raised in the sweaty grit of suffocating reality... and to be joyous...  How can that be possible?

There is something in finishing a period of hard work - to stop and assess the work that has happened, and the blessings that God has brought therein.  Stop.  Take stock. Give thanks.  There is more than one kind of harvest. Seek the Lord for the ability to see it.  He promises that whoever seeks after Him will find (Matthew 7:7-8)!

Even beyond the grace of the immediate present, don't forget to cast your thoughts to the past.  What has God redeemed you from and for?  What were the miracles God has already done?  If you are nearsighted in this area, you will be short sighted for the future.  Look for God's hand in generations past, even.  Celebrate His work in others' lives.  Don't stop after one or two occasions of God's greatness - keep going!  After all, Sukkot is supposed to be a time of joy!  What more effective way to be filled with joy than to have your remembrances filled to overflowing with the goodness - the GREATNESS - of God?!

I do not...

We were sitting on my porch, my friend and I. She was reminiscing about a book she was reading (by Shauna Neiquist, I believe). A revolutionary thought had presented her with a pronounced freedom - to create a list of things that you are not. For example, "I am not a gardener," my friend admitted with a smile. "I'm not either," I jumped to agree! She looked at me doubtfully, because we were surrounded by my potted plants. I felt like I owed her, and everyone, an explanation.

I am not a gardener.

Marshall teases me mercilessly that I don't have a green thumb, and, in fact, he doubts that my thumb is even brown! So why do I have plants? Well, I love them for one thing! I just can't keep them alive or flourishing! That doesn't really answer the question, does it? Let's go back to the revolutionary idea of what I am not or do not do:

• I do not garden for therapy or stress relief.
• I do not garden for bragging rights.
• I do not garden because I'm naturally talented at it.

I do garden to remind myself to be diligent in spiritual disciplines.

I am not, by nature, prone to nourish plants nor myself. The plants are such a stark visual reminder of what happens when depraved of proper nourishment. The buds don't result in blooms, even though there is promise peeking shyly at you. The leaves dry up on the edges and become fragile and brittle. The dust settles on the leaves and the pests aren't bidden haste. All of these indications that my plants have not been nourished or cared for properly.

When I see my plants in this condition, it immediately provokes me to take an inventory of my spiritual disciplines.

There are shockingly similar indications for my spirit. There remain gifts that aren't stirred up, my capacity for grace and kindness shrivels up, and the lies of the enemy nest themselves inside my mind without any truth to eradicate them.

As a new creation, I need to be connected to the vine in order to flourish and bear fruit. I can't do that without nourishing myself regularly with the truth of the Living Water, and submitting myself to the care of the Lord. He knows best when to put me in the sun, when to prune my branches, when to add minerals to my soil, and when to protect me from damaging elements - because He is the one who created me!

I "know" that truth. It's one of the earliest Scriptural truths that I learned and there are countless songs about this truth. But unless I see something despairing for lack of proper nourishment, I can learn to live without nourishment. After all, the world gives me countless examples on how to live so! I become blind and numb to the fact that there is a fuller, deeper, more beautiful life available to me. So I am not a gardener, but I do garden.

That reminds me... I need to water my plants...

"It's the hardest thing ever!"

I'm beginning to discover why veterans of learning a second language were so realistic with us about language learning being the hardest thing you could ever do. I think it's hard for different reasons, depending on who you are.

For me the technical aspect of learning the language isn't the hardest thing I've ever done. I think finishing the mini-marathon (and yes, I only walked it) was much harder. Adjusting to another family culture after getting married was MUCH harder! I KNOW that maintaining discipline in certain areas of my life is THE hardest (by the way, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank all the sponsors of my chocolate love affair).

What makes language learning so hard for me? I think it's a combination of two things, or maybe it just boils down to one thing: emotional drain. I'm so exhausted at the end of the week from learning and remembering all the new material that I simply want to collapse at the end of the week. I don't have the spare energy to parent well or to communicate respectfully or lovingly to Marshall, much less get myself out of the apartment and practice my Hebrew on actual Israelis. Yet I know that I can't abandon those responsibilities. So I have to dig much deeper, because my personal supply of perseverance has been completely depleted.

Dig deeper? That just rang a bell! A.B. Simpson, founder of the C&MA, was keen on the deeper life - a deeper spiritual life that was constantly nourished by the filling of the Holy Spirit. "Your mercies are new every morning!" celebrated a famous psalmist. Oh that I would remember to rely on those mercies and so glorify His name because of endurance that defies human limitations!

The apostle Paul defined perseverance as the ability to keep your faith through a difficult situation, and at the end of that situation - to still be standing. That's where I would like to find myself at the end of the week - still standing (as opposed to draped over the loveseat buried beneath a cozy blanket that semi-effectively drowns out the sounds of reality).

Unexpected Flatmate

(The following is a post from December that I never finished until now.)

Sooo....

Marshall and I are finding it a struggle to study our Hebrew tonight, knowing that we are returning to school after a short holiday break and doing our best to procrastinate. We have studied here and there throughout the break, and we promised ourselves that tonight - finally - after Russell went to bed, we would dedicate ourselves to only Hebrew.

That must be why we were preparing hot beverages, washing dishes, picking up toys... In the name of all things distracting, Marshall deciced to dust the top of the blind box above the kitchen window. He drug a chair over to the window and set in with great throroughness. Suddenly his entire body jerked in reaction to what he had just discovered.

"Babs," he spoke hesitantly. "Do you remember the morning a couple months ago that I told you I found a lizard in our apartment, but that he ran away and I couldn't find him again?" His voice trailed off as though he really didn't want to finish his story.

I braced myself.

"I just found him." Very carefully he used his cleaning rag to pick up our unexpected flatmate from his perch. He didn't give Marshall a fight - in fact, he was rigidly formal about the whole matter.

Sounds of the Season

At this time of year you might expect that the "sounds of the season" might be the Salvation Army bell, the dying battery-powered music of the Christmas aisles, and strategic conversations of navigating the seasonal sales. While the spirit of the season lives strong in my heart, the sounds (moreover, the season) are much different.

"Do you think we need our jackets today?" This is just plain funny since we're getting daily reports of how many inches of snow there are in the Midwest.

"Maybe it will rain sometime this week!" I think I've previously mentioned how we have that tingle in our stomachs as though we're anticipating a fresh snowfall at the beginning of the season. Russell has a Looney Toons umbrella, and he's only been able to use it once now. Let me restate that: He's used it more than once, but it was only necessary to use once.

"Oi!" Russell has been using this exclusively for anything that requires effort or has surprised him.

"How do you say that?" Is it lach or lecha or leho or lee? Is it tsarich or tsricha? Why does the word for urgent sound so foolish? Does it have to sound like I'm using vulgar language in English when I talk about Marshall eating?

"This is difficult for me to hear." As we progress in ulpan (in both language and relationships with classmates), we are asked to explain why we moved here if we are not Jewish. This is a relatively safe environment to share our hearts with them, as long as our words are seasoned with much grace. We mostly get two reactions. The first is "So you're with Jews for Jesus?" and the second is "This is difficult for me to hear." As we hear their stories, we've learned that so many Jewish people have been aggressively pursued by a well-meaning organization to the point of harrassment. They are tired. When a conversation opens up with us and they are assured that we are NOT with that organization, they inquire more about the local Messianic Jewish people. Many of our classmates have come to an religious Jewish experience rather recently (as opposed to being secular), so it's difficult for them to have embraced their religious heritage and to consider "abandoning" that heritage. It is a constant struggle to explain that Messianics don't abandon anything, but rather find fulfillment in Jesus - He is the fulfillment of so many of their prophecies! It is my prayer that God will convince them because we can't. They have grown up believing that if you believe in Jesus you necessarily abandon everything you were. In one sense that is true: To die to self is to gain Christ. However, in Christ we are made "complete" - not ripped in half.

So the season I write about is not a holiday season, but a season of adaptation and preparation. Our ears and hearts are wide open and receptive to the lessons we are confident God will pour into us. May the sounds of this season be reflective of hearts that are following after God.

Labor Intensive

In the course of studying my vocabulary from ulpan (Hebrew language school) I find myself giggling something fierce. Hebrew is like a classic comedy sketch: Me is who and who is he but he is she. It's confusing, isn't it? So I decided to straighten it out by repeating the words over and over again: he, he, who; he, he, who; he, he, who. I find that my teeth are gritted together, my forehead is wrinkled in concentration, and I'm trying to push because I've slipped into Lamaze breathing! And this is just with the pronouns!

On a more serious note, today was our 8th anniversary. Last night I experienced some homesickness. I dreamt of going to Burger King for a ham, egg, and cheese croissant and their delicious coffee (only to have the coffee machine broken and the cashier dump my drink on the floor when I asked if I could buy orange juice as well). I'm trying to figure out where the homesickness is coming from. We had a teammate over for dinner, and she is staying in the bungalow for a few days this week. The bungalow is where we started out, so maybe some of it is memories from those first days. I think another part is the knotted feeling in the pit of my stomach as we face another phase of "what am I getting into?" with ulpan. On the bus today Marshall was saying, "I am capable of learning Hebrew. It is possible to learn Hebrew. God called us here so we must learn Hebrew." over and over again. It's good to say those things to yourself - to remind yourself of the facts when your emotions threaten to take control. I think, also, it's been three months since seeing friends and family from the States - past the "short term" point - and I simply miss people that had more common appearances in my life until now.

So let's count our blessings and name them one by one:
1. Shawarma and filalfel (hee, hee, hee)
2. An apartment that is PERFECT for us in size, location, and with quite a view
3. A husband who doesn't mind me thinking out loud and likes to study with me
4. A son who still delights in life
5. Teammates who genuinely care for us and we can count as friends
6. Access to a car so that we can travel places on Shabbat
7. Instructors at the ulpan who are interested in our success
8. Care packages that have fun surprises and chocolate in them
9. Russell's improved behaviour at school
10. Cheap produce

I could go on and on with more serious things and more silly things, but the important thing is that my mind is now in the right place. May praise for my God always be on my tongue!

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like...

Do you know the feeling you get when you happen to look up from your menial tasks and see that it's snowing outside? It's sort of a fluttery-excited-your-heart-starts-to-jingle kind of a feeling. I got that feeling yesterday!

No, it didn't snow. It rained!

I thought a pot was boiling over on the stove, but dinner was in check. It took Marshall and I a couple minutes to figure out what the noise was. Finally he happened to look up from aforesaid menial tasks and noticed that it was raining. We stood on our balcony like giddy teenagers watching the rain coat the streets with a silver sheen. We couldn't stop smiling as we drove to Shabbat service, admiring the patterns of rivers on our windshield. I even urged Marshall to park a little further away than what was available just so we could enjoy the rain longer.

*sigh*

It rained!