[Lech Lecha are the words that were told to Abraham. “Lech lecha, go to yourself” when G-d sent him on a journey into the unknown. We read it not only as go to yourself, but, despite the hardship, go for yourself, for your own benefit.]
It’s been a long time since I sat down to write.
These past few months I couldn’t write b/c I have just been a great big bread machine. Ingredients are being added into the machine daily. Job changes, a child suffering with depression, a child working out their faith, and myself working to be there for everyone while still juggling my out of the home responsibilities.
It’s whirring, this machine that I am. Mixing, striving – sometimes leaking heartfelt tears. I haven’t written, I suppose because I am very busy. I’m busy processing, kneading the dough, praying it comes out good. And sometimes not praying -sometimes just surviving.
There have been times over the last few months where I’ve been tempted to dump out the contents, let the runny mixture spill out and show everyone “look what I’m making” But I can’t. The ingredients aren’t all mine. The struggles and stories belong to people I love. And they’re counting on me to hold it together – to produce something beautiful. To make sure that their contribution to my pain is used like yeast – despite it’s awful smell and appearance – to grow us.
I’m looking forward to the freshly baked blessing that will come from all of this. I know they’re there.
But at the same time, I know – though sometimes my heart forgets, that this struggle – this very meeting, appointment, stress, upset, worry is also the blessing.
Is it too hard for G-d to grow bread from trees? He grows apples, oranges, mangos, bananas, melons, kiwis, papyas… where should I stop?
It’s not hard for Him to grow bread from trees. And yet, the staff of life – man’s most influential food is processed.
It’s threshed and winnowed and beaten and crushed and ground and mixed and pummeled then baked on high heat until, at last, its bread.
We’re supposed to be a work in progress.
Every step has a purpose. Every stage is towards a goal. And in the same way that each step has its measure – too high heat will make the bread burn – each step of the struggle has been given to us in it’s exact amount. There’s nothing arbitrary. This is all perfect, it just hurts.
I’m still me, doing all the things I love – I’m just a quieter version right now. I’ve moved out of the teacher’s desk and into the student’s place and Life is in the classroom teaching whatever I’m willing to learn.
