In my last post I had talked about how the weather had changed and it looked like the rainy season had started. But it never did. And then we proceeded to have the hotest, dryest October that anyone, that I spoke to in Israel, could remember.
Didn't we all pray for rain? And keep praying for rain? And remind our friends and family to pray for rain? HaShem we need rain! I read a posting last night by someone in Efrat that a storm was coming in - a big one. Two barrels, rain over Shabbat, and then lots more into next week. And I thought, oh boy, I hope so! And then, this morning the weather changed. It really did. It clouded over and the temperature dropped 10 degrees. And I realized that I needed to bring in my clothes rack so my laundry wouldn't get wet. And I realized that we still needed to get the Succah down. And I realized that I needed to move the bikes off the front mirpeset into the grotto under the house. And I realized the wood from our lift was on the front mirpeset and exposed to the weather. And I realized that all this time I had been asking for rain, but I hadn't prepared for it.
So I brought in the clothes, put the bikes in the grotto, and took down the lights, decorations and fabric from the succah. All by myself. I couldn't get the skach and the frame, because they're too heavy for me. It was very cathartic. And while I was working hard and struggling (HaShem requires the struggle you know) I was thinking about the coming storms.
Not the rain storms, the real storms. The ones we see brewing politically all over the world.
And I thought about how it seems that the storm clouds are getting bigger and darker with each new bit of news I read. Obama backing the muslims, disregarding past relations with Israel. Antisemitism growing world wide. The economic climate around the world, and how everytime the world economy tanks it's another good excuse to blame the Jews.
I read about the Goldstone report; http://www.ungoldstonereport.com/
and watched a utube of Lord Monkton's discussion about Obama signing the Global Climate Treaty and feasibly signing away America's soverignity;
I read Geert Wilder's presentation at the Horowitz Freedom Center;
And more news about Iran's nuclear program;
Do you feel the thunder rumbling in the distance? Do you feel the electricity in the air? I sure do. And I realized that, even though I've known for a long time, that the signs have been there. I've been talking about it, worrying over it. But I've never really prepared for it? How do we prepare for it? Wouldn't it be great if it was a simple set of tasks that we can do, like I did this morning preparing for the rain, and once they're all done, Hey - I'm ready! (Ooooh thunder in the distance, it's almost here!). But I think not. I think, for the big storm that HaShem is gathering, the preparation is all about the mindset, the heart, the struggle. The willinginess to enter everyday into that struggle between what we want and what is easy and what we think will fulfill us, and what is real.
What is real is that we are at war, both nationally and spiritually.
HaShem made us promises. At Gerizim and Ebal He promised that if we would come and live in the land, and keep his commandments that our lives would be blessed. I quote the Stone Tanach Devarim 28 (Deuteronomy) "It shall be on that day if you hearken to the voice of HaShem, your God, to observe all of His commandments that I commanded you this day, then Hashem, your God, will make you supreme over all the nations of the earth. All these blessings will come upon you and overtake you, if you hearken to the voice of HaShem, your God."
He promised that His blessings, all of His blessings, would come upon us and overtake us.
So I beleive that is the struggle. What is right, and real, and part of a plan not of our making, but that we still find oursleves in. An integral part of the plan, each and every one of us. And those who will be blessed? I suppose are the ones who recognize that we are part of the plan and prepare; enter into the struggle over what "IF" really means in our everyday lives.
And I see it like the coming storm, huge and loud and overwhelming. Nothing I can do to avoid it, it's going to come and overtake me. So I cling to the struggle, and the promise, and the belief that I am not insane, and there really is a higher power who will come and wash the dry and thirsty landscape of not only this land, but also my soul.
Blessed be He who waters the earth.