Well, I have had a wonderful last week and a half. We cleaned our little house from topamus to bottomus and vacuumed every crevice we could reach. Why would we do such a crazy thing?
Getting the leaven out!
Interesting object lesson. You can talk til you are blue in the face about searching in the dark corners of your soul but there is no darkness like 12:30am and your face is 4″ from the back of the couch and you are sucking out crumbs from who knows how long ago. That’ll get you thinking about heart issues if nothing else will.
It will also cause you to say some terrible things about your own ability to clean house well. At least that is what it did for me!
And then the weekend came. With snow and blizzards on the mountains and if you’ve been to Bane’s you know what the weather was over the weekend.
The family who was going to come and share Passover with us declined to drive TWICE in one weekend over the hazardous pass. We were sad. The boys had some moments of wailing although the gnashing of teeth was kept to a minimum.
We had a couple of options for Pesach I on Saturday night but in the end we decided to stay home.
I cooked like a fiend, in a Shabbat observant and very restful way, and decorated with all my stashed table linens, the antique middle eastern dishes and every candle in the house was pressed into service.
There was matzoh ball soup, charoset *apple salad*, kugel *apple side dish* and matzoh *bread w/o leaven*. Rotisserie rosemary marinated tri-tip, almond wild rice pilaf and steamed asparagus. There was grape juice and a light sparkling red wine. We made maror *horseradish*, which apparently is nuetralized by the addition of apple cider vineger. Who knew?
There was much laughter, a deep and meaningful moment about kindness and love, lots of wine, and the sweetest time of fellowship I’ve had with my family in quite some time.
We sang songs, read the word, fellowshipped, glorified Yeshua and hugged each other.
We ended up, after dinner, with the boys and myself all snuggled up next to the Mr. while he read the concluding parts of the haggadah *the telling* to us and we concluded with shouted out requests for songs. One verse of Amazing Grace turned into 2 verses and we ended with a holy hush.
Next year in Jerusalem, eh?
Then the following night we celebrated with a family who had never observed Passover before and it was a riot! Where I had candles? They had confetti.
Could we be more blessed?
I can’t imagine.