Erev Shabbat. Eve of rest.
2 years ago that would have meant very little to me. That was two years ago. Now? It means I don’t ordinarily schedule anything on Friday’s, I cook and clean like a fiend all day and when the dust settles I am ready for Shabbat Shalom.
Funny how that is. Shalom means “order from chaos”. This is the goal for me every Friday. The whirlwind abates and the aroma of fresh bread, something in the crockpot or oven and the sight of my boys with clean faces and their little crocheted kippah’s come together to remind me of the blessing of family, the provision of the L-rd and the goodness of His grace. We light the candles, thank G-d for the blessing of the wine and the bread (sound familiar?) and sit down to the nicest meal of the week. We linger, we talk, we tease the dog and laugh.
To some, I imagine. Those remarks are usually from people who have never experienced the peace of a day for which you’ve prepared and anticipated. A day where it is not only allowed but expected that you will “cease” from work and rest. A day nothing like the other six. Not because of the “requirement” but because of the blessing.
Tonight my in-laws are coming over so I’m making a special dinner. Cranberry Pecan challah, Blue cheese horseradish sauce, pot roast with potatoes and carrots, mushroom gravy, Mom’s bringing the salad, French chocolate cake with raspberry puree and whipped cream and some good coffee. Oh! Can’t forget the cabernet!!! 🙂
We put out the white tablecloth, the red linen napkins, the fine china. The silver sparkles and the red and white wine glasses shimmer.
This is a night like none other in my week. A celebration! A feast!
Shabbat. Sabbath. Rest