The Old, Sliver Lady

Boker Tov:

First, thanks to my Buddy Beth, who left a comment on the last blog.

Yes, it is madding that we as a nation don't do more to help our men and women returning home from long deployments. The fact that many of our returning vets are coming home to find homes forcloused on and no jobs.

Support Our Troops....don't get me started....

This is the reason so many miliarty marriages break up under such strain.

It is the prayers, support and good wishes of friends such as Beth that keep us going.

Yesterday afternoon we learned that a simple oil change and car checkup wasn't so simple.

Like 2,000 dollars not simple. And the warrentiy didn't cover the work.

We don't have that kind of money now. We don't even have jobs.

Suddenly I felt like Isacc on the briar, smelling smoke and waiting for father Abraham to strike with the knife. Isacc didn't know there was a ram waiting to take his place. I am counting on it.

Our beloved car, Princess is dying. In fact, it is a miracle Mark hadn't been in an accident. The gentleman working on the car called it a death trap and didn't even advise driving it home.

And we need a car.

So Mark traded our baby in for a newer model and even got a good deal. Money will be tigh, but it is right now.

It made for a long day and night of prayer.

But Mark came home, with our new car.

And we mourned Princess.

Later as we laid in bed talking, we rememeberd that we brought Princess six years ago this month. We had been in a car accident with Mark's old jeep and it was totaled. It was hard for Mark to let go of Baby; he and baby were together since Fort Drum and she was part of our courtship, even our honeymoon.

Princess was the beginning of our marriage, even before we found the apartment we are living in now. She saw us through two deployments, a trip to South Carolina and runaways to Williamsburge. She has helped people moved, delievered chicken soup, challah, and play dough.

I am going to miss the old, silver lady.

Still Home

So I went into the Dinningroom to get my coffee and tripped over Mark's army boots.
Even though he wasn't home for me to fuss at, I was still ready to fuss.
And then I stopped.

Because tripping over Mark's boots means he's still home.

Someone we love and honour remarked that we have a way of finding the bright side of things. I guess we do. And I believe it is one of the reasons our marriage is a good one. It isn't always easy to chose to look for the good; if you burn both sides of the pancakes, how do you say "honey it's just fine?" Answer: you don't serve those pancakes, but make more. Or offer to take your wife out for pancakes.

No, Mark hasn't burned the pancakes. Just likes to take me out. :)

It has been a year next month since his last deployment. And again this is the longest he has been home.
And I love it.
I remember Mark and I speaking about this the other evening, how nice it was having his home.

Yes, we both know that the lovely invitation to return to the dance Afghtanisn could come, but right now we don't think about it, just enjoying our lives.

Last week Mark mention he now knows a few of his triggers, that causes the anger to rise.
We both enjoy Fox News, but there are times it triggers an over reaction. Such as the playing games with the miliarty and their pay, their benifits. So I don't keep the news on long. And please don't suggest CNN: that's a swear word in our home.
So I keep it on Shalom TV. And on that station too, keep away from politcial news.

Besides, Shalom TV is so much better.

What is PTSD

Boker Tov:

Now, before anyone accuses me of cutting and pasting, the following is indeed from various sources that I have taken notes from as I research PTSD. Others are things I already knew.

For you see,  long before I even Mark, I was treated for PTSD.

And in my case, it was far worse.

So what is PTSD?

PTSD or Post-traumatic stress disorder has been around for years, but getting more headlines in recent years to the nearly ten years this naton has been at war.

Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a disorder that can develop following a traumatic event that threatens one's safety and/ or makes ones feel helpless. That one could not protect oneself, one's loved ones and/or those one had charge of.

Most people associate PTSD with battle–scarred soldiers–and military combat is the most common cause in men–but any overwhelming life experience can trigger PTSD, especially if the event feels unpredictable and uncontrollable. Examples of this would be a car accident, flood, fire or home breakin.

Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) can affect those who personally experience the catastrophe, those who witness it, and those who pick up the pieces afterwards, including emergency workers and law enforcement officers. It can even occur in the friends or family members of those who went through the actual trauma. Example: one couldn't stop the child from being hit, one stop couldn''t the person from jumping or one couldn't stop the eviction.

PTSD develops differently from person to person. While the symptoms of PTSD most commonly develop in the hours or days following the traumatic event, it can sometimes take weeks, months, or even years before they appear.
Such events include:

War

Natural disasters
Car or plane crashes
Terrorist attacks
Sudden death of a loved one
Rape
Kidnapping
Assault
Sexual or physical abuse

Childhood neglect

Childhood bullyingThe difference between PTSD and a normal response to trauma

The traumatic events that lead to post-traumatic stress disorder are usually so overwhelming and frightening that they would upset anyone. Following a traumatic event, almost all of us will experiences at least some of the symptoms of PTSD. When one's sense of safety and trust are shattered, it’s normal to feel crazy, disconnected,  numb. It is also common to have nightmares, to  feel fearful, to be numb, to find it impossiable to stop thinking about what happened.

Most people find these symptoms  short-lived. They may last for several days or even weeks, but they gradually lift.

 But with  (PTSD), the symptoms don’t decrease, but they get worse.

A normal response to trauma becomes PTSD when you become stuck in the moment.

After a traumatic experience, the mind and the body are in shock. But as one make sense of what happened and process one's emotions, one works through the emotions and finds once again a place of calm, of normal.

This is not the case with PTSD. 

One remain in psychological shock. One's memory of what happened and feelings about it are disconnected. One still sees, feels, tastes, ears and smells the event. It is as real at that moment as it was when the event first took place. In order to move on, it’s important to face and feel the memories and emotions.

The symptoms  PTSD can come out of the blue or gradually, or come and go over time. Often  they are triggered by something that reminds one of the original traumatic event, such as a noise, an image, certain words, or a smell.

I found this list on list. Whileeveryone experiences PTSD differently, there are three main types of symptoms most have in common:

Re-experiencing the traumatic event
Avoiding reminders of the trauma
Increased anxiety and emotional arousal
Symptoms of PTSD: Re-experiencing the traumatic event
Intrusive, upsetting memories of the event
Flashbacks (acting or feeling like the event is happening again)
Nightmares (either of the event or of other frightening things)
Feelings of intense distress when reminded of the trauma
Intense physical reactions to reminders of the event (e.g. pounding heart, rapid breathing, nausea, muscle tension, sweating)
Symptoms of PTSD: Avoidance and numbing
Avoiding activities, places, thoughts, or feelings that remind you of the trauma
Inability to remember important aspects of the trauma
Loss of interest in activities and life in general
Feeling detached from others and emotionally numb
Sense of a limited future (you don’t expect to live a normal life span, get married, have a career)
Symptoms of PTSD: Increased anxiety and emotional arousal
Difficulty falling or staying asleep
Irritability or outbursts of anger
Difficulty concentrating
Hypervigilance (on constant “red alert”)
Feeling jumpy and easily startled
Other common symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder
Anger and irritability
Guilt, shame, or self-blame
Substance abuse
Feelings of mistrust and betrayal
Depression and hopelessness
Suicidal thoughts and feelings
Feeling alienated and alone
Physical aches and pains

Again, all of us can experience a few, some or all these symptoms because of an dramatic event. It is when the symptoms increase in time that there is a problem that needs to be adressed.

However, there is indeed hope and treatment for PTSD.

I am livning proof of that.

More later.

Silience is The Emeny

Boker Tov;

The reason Mark and I speak out about the PTSD because silence is a killer.
PTSD, like many forms of depression, are still not pnly misunderstood, but not taken seriously.

A "real man can handle anything," is still a catch-word, thrown about like a football.

As the intake worker told Mark and I, "you can't go through four tours and not come out affected." It can't be medicated away, washed away with wine, or prayed away. "Claiming your healing," only adds more guilt that isn't needed.

G-d does heal, but sometimes that healing comes from going through the pregress, not having it taken away.

Besides, prayer isn't a lucky charm.

There is help out there for our warriors, but many fear they will get kicked out of the service over it, that it will affect their careers. It doesn't have to.

Many fear what will happen to their marriages, will their family and friends understand and worse, so much worse will their wife or husband still love them?

With Mark we are able to say there is very little signs of the disorder. But that is because his love for me and our life together was stronger than his pride.

And I realize my beloved needed my love and help, not watching my back side as I walked away when he needed me the most.

It was when the Beast was dealt head on that it because to weaken and finally starting to die.

I learned a lot during this past year as Mark and I struggled through financial lost, health issues and readjustments. There is a time for a couple to band together, close out the world and between and G-d face the storm. We must use wisdom in choosing the people that are to be in our lives; don't over look the red-flags and listen to each other about doubts. This would include with whom and where we worship.

That silence is a killer.

Many who couldn't hande the pain any longer have taken their own lives.

I don't want to read another soldier feeling that helpless.

And that is why we are speaking out.

We Are Amused :)

Shalom:

Well it is another week.

Last friday, was Mark's last day of his Work-Study.
This week he has two interviews with the hopes of picking up tutoring jobs.
As our rabbi pointed out friday afternoon, more and more g-dly people are homeschooling their children and are looking for good science teachers who share their moral and spiritual values.
Yes, when he isn't serving with his unit as an Army Reservist, Mark is a science teacher.
And a science teacher of the worst (or best depending on your view); a torah-observate science teacher.
Should be an interesting year.

I am happy to say that the treatment is beginning to make a huge difference. Mark has PTSD, not as bad as most, but bad enough he needs treatment. Part of his healing was admitting there was a problem.
He laughs again and smiles more. I had to take my track shoes out of moth balls because once again I again getting chased around the apartment.

A huge part is finding just the right support as well as the right medication. We now have a strong support network that doesn't judge, but helps.

I was told much of the progress is due to the fact that I have fought to find Mark what he needed, to protect him from all that would harm him and kick his butt when that was needed as well.

"Do you have any idea how marriages are destroyed over PTD?" I'd been asked.

Too many.

For me it is this simple: I didn't allow nay sayers, cancer or two wars take Mark away from me and PTSD doesn't stand a chance as well.

In marriage there is no such thing as 'his problem' or 'her problem.' It's 'our problem." Whether is is drugs, brooze, cheating, grambling or some form of illness, it is the couple's problem.

So it isn't really Mark has PTSD as it is WE have PTSD.

And it reather nice now to be off the Roller Coaster and on the Merry Go Round.

I hate Roller Coasters.

A Shabbat Story:

The Newark Riots and a Match Made in Heaven

By Yossy Gordon
My uncle, Rabbi Sholom Gordon of blessed memory, was a Lubavitch emissary in New Jersey, starting in the early forties. Over the years, he touched thousands of lives.
Sometime around 1960, the mother of a former student of Uncle Sholom approached him with a problem. Her daughter, who had reached marriageable age several years before, was having a hard time finding a shidduch (match). Aware of the Rebbe's greatness, the desperate mother asked Sholom to arrange a meeting for her with the Rebbe. Sholom complied, and even drove the mother, along with her son who was accompanying her, to meet the Rebbe, of righteous memory.
"When G‑d sends her bashert... then I will close the store"My uncle waited outside. When the mother emerged from the Rebbe's office, she looked upset. "What happened?" Sholom inquired. "Well," answered the mother, "I went in to the Rebbe and asked him for a blessing for my daughter's shidduch. I was surprised when the Rebbe began to ask me questions about my life. He asked me what our source of livelihood is. I told him that we have a very successful store in Newark. The Rebbe asked me if the store is open on Shabbat. I told him that it is.
"Then, and this is what I really do not understand, the Rebbe suggested that since we are financially secure, we should close our store on Shabbat and that G‑d will then send our daughter her bashert (intended one). I countered that we need the store to provide for our daughter in case something happens to us and she does not get married. When G‑d sends her bashert... then I will close the store. The Rebbe disagreed.
"Rabbi Gordon," continued the woman, "I am from Europe. I know chassidic rebbes. I thought they just gave blessings and wanted a donation. I didn't come here for business advice..."
Years went by. 1967 arrived and with it came the Newark Riots and violence and vandalism. The store owned by Sholom's former student's parents was among those destroyed in the melee. Already nearing retirement age, and with her husband having passed away shortly beforehand, the mother decided not to rebuild the store.
The store was finally closed on Shabbat.
Within a few months, the daughter met her bashert. Today, thank G‑d, she is the mother of a well-respected family.

The Year of Living Biblically Part 2

Boker Tov:

 I brought the book just before Passover at Temple Israel's gift shop.

The title grabbed my attention because I remember reading about A.J.'s quest and didn't know how things turned out.

The other reason is A.J hinself. Author of the book, The Know-It-All, A.J. is the only person other than myself who ever read The Encyclopaedia Britannica from A to Z.

Last Saturday I was reading some of the book to Mark and told him about my draw to Jacob's book....

"Wait a minute!" Mark demanded, "YOU have read the whole Encyclopaedia?"

"Yes. It was summer time and I was bored. I always researching something and another subject caught my attention. So I just kept reading."

Not that I really remember everything I read.

Mark shook his head. "Now doesn't that surpise me."

Anyway, anyone that brave to take on all 613 commandments of the Torah and the over 1,000 commandments found in the New Testatment, plus those rules found in extra-biblical writings for one year and live through it, I had to read.

And since much of the commandments are connected to the Land Israel and Temple worship, this is going to be a mightly task.

Right now I am reading about A.J. realzing that G-d is always speaking. That this isn't a very quiet Being.

No surpise on my part.

Nor is this book a quiet read.

I find myself reading outloud various passages, putting the book down and discussing what I just read.

There is the story of his writing out the list of rules, dos and don'ts. And the contacting of a shatnez tester.

Shatnez is the hebrew word for :mixed fibers." A shatnez tester will come to your home and test your clothing for mixed fibers.

You can't always trust labels, so unless you know what to look for, you need one of G-d's wardrobe detective.

No I didn't make that up.

So our author recieves a lesson about fabic mixings.

And so does the reader.

The Year of Living Biblically

Shalom:
Right now I a reading a wonderful book by A.J. Jacobs, The Year of Living Biblically. I had heard of this story last year, of one man's quest to live as biblically as he could.
Not G-dly. Biblically.
The story is amazing, funny and quite frankly makes me think about the things I believe and why do I believe them.
A.J. was raised in a secular home, but over the years became increasing in matters of religion and its role in our modern lives. So he decided to live as closely to the Bible as he could for one full year. Such as keeping the ten commandments, avoiding wearing wool and linen and stoning adulters.
His was an honest, humble atempt, for one who's an agnostic.

It is indeed a page turner and makes the reader think. A.J. doesn't just stick to reading and following the bible, but takes the time to talk to an Amish man named Amos, a Jehovah's Witness, a visit to Lynchburg and to Israel.
You don't have to be a religious person to enjoy The Year of Living Biblically. Just someone willing to join in an adventure of a life time.

Adjustments

Shalom:
I am happy to say I am out of the walking shoe and the toe is fully healed. The big toe nail is slowly growing back.
Mark is coming to the end of his work-study job at the VA. We are hopeful with the new school year beginning soon, he will pick up a job as a Science teacher, doing some tutoring on the side.
And I am in the middle of a hebrew's test. I am going through my first book, page by page. My teacher says I am doing great and I need to trust myself. To have more faith in myself for I know more than I think I do,
Life is a bit of an adjustment. I am thankful Mark is home; this is the longest he has been home since we have been married.
It does mean living on less.
And it means having to listen to folks say: "I don't understand why people can't find work. There are plenty of jobs out there."
Really? Like many Vets, my husband is having a devil of a time finding a job; ANY JOB. Where are these "jobs" I keep hearing about?

Have faith? Yes, we have faith. And it has been stretched greatly.

But in all things we give thanks.
For our home, our friends and family, for each other.

And for the unemployment checks.

My Big Fat Toe

Boker Tov:
(Which sounds like "broke your toe")
I am sitting in my dayroom, enjoying a cup of coffee.
Truly enjoying my coffee.
Last night was the first time I actually slept. I didn't once wake up in pain. It's been a week since I'd had a good night sleep.
This morning, I actually woke up with a smile and not throw the pillow over my face.
It's a start.
Mark got a part part-time working at the Veteran Center. he starts next week.
It's a start.
And since I am feeling better, I get some things done.
What my big fat toe will allow.
Though now healing nicely, my big fat toe still doesn't allow me to stand long or put much weigh on it. It doesn't allow me to make the bed or clean the bathroom.
But it allows me to fold fresh washed laundry, go though old papers, some need to be fined, others throw away. It allows me to study for the big hebrew test I have coming up.
It is amazing how focus one's toe, big, tiny otherwise, can make one.
The things I had been meaing to do, little projects I needed to finish, I am now working on.
I am even thinking of ways to decorate the bandage since I am going to be wearing this for another week or so.
Might as well have some fun.

It's the Little Things

Shalom:
First, thanks to all who left wonderful, encouraging messages. Trust me, they mean a lot.
Right now, as I type this, I am wating for the pain medication to kick in. Mark had to chance my dressing. I have small toes; he has big hands, which leads to lots of pain.
Afterwards, Mark just holds my foot in his lap, stroking it softy.
Its those little things that mean the most.
How often we take the little things, like toes, for granted until their hurt in some form or fashion. Our teeth until they start hurting. A loved one until they die.
We go through this life taking so much for granted.
The little things.
I now giggle as I hop along the house. It takes my right toe to keep my balance. But how often did I take my balance for granted, just kicking my shoes off when I come home or run through the house.
One of the things I am learning during this time is living a life of Thanksgiving. To give thanks for all things; big and small.
Like my big right toe.

A Matter of Faith

Shalom:
It has been an insterting several weeks. Full of ups and downs, yelling and screaming and even a few times, "I quit!"
But G-d and I are still speaking.
It's a matter of faith.
My beloved and I are now celebrating six years of marriage.
The past twelves months have been the hardest.
Between the time Mark was in the Wounded Warrior Program while we care for a very sick friend who almost left us, Mark's depression and now almost a year of job searching, this has been those times that tries the souls and faith of men and women.
Mark is a Civil Affairs officer. When he isn't deployed, he goes back to Army Reserves status. But since we have been marriage, Mark has been deployed twice for twelve to four-teen months, comes home for three to six months and then on his way out to the field again.
This means he never gets to put to use the very skill he has trained for; a science teacher.
This month, will mark 11 months Mark has been home. The longest he has been home since we have been married.
His two months leave was used up taking care of a friend. Then dealing with coming out of the black hole.
All I could do is love him and pray for him.
As a Vet, one would think job offers and employers would open their doors to him. But like everyone, he has been searching for a job, any job to take care of his family.
All I can do is love him and pray for him.
And just as the point when I was ready to play Esther and over a lovely meal suggest I also look for a job to help out, I deveople Cellilitius which is an infection of the tisse, in my case, my big right toe. With a huge bandage on my huge big toe, wearing a walking boot when I am allowed up for the next two to three weeks, my job search is on hold.
All I can do is love my husband and pray.
To be honest, there are many times I find myself yelling at G-d. How can men and women who serve their country, even to the point of putting thier lives on the line, not be able to find a job?  It isn't just my Mark. I have heard so many stories of others in the similiar boat. Vets now having to apply for Food Stamps, and losing their homes.
It isn't fair, it isn't right.
It is life in America: there are no jobs for anyone.
So how do I do this.
It's a matter of faith. It is knowing that G-d is still in control, that He truly sees, hears and cares.
Right now, as I look at my toe with a fresh bandage wrapped around it by my beloved who feels that is this is the only thing he can truly do for me. I pray. I pray for a job for myself and others who are seeking work.
That I don't become bitter. That I remember G-d is working behind the scences even though I don't see it.
It's a matter of faith.

A Head of Straw, A Head of Torah

Boker Tov:
Yes, I know it has been a very long time. Over a month in fact.
The reason is simple: I was thinking of just letting the blog go. I began thinking, I really don't have anything to say, anything important. Mark is still home. In fact, this has been the longest he has been home.
But then I have spend the past week reading e-mail, letters from people who tell me how much they like reading the blog, are encouraged in their marriage, in learning Torah, in seeking out the roots of their faith and even rethinking a few things.
So, I decided to keep it going.
Besides, now that life is less crazy, I have time.

Two nights ago was a landmark moment for me. We even invited to a birthday party for my hebrew teacher Emily. Several of her students showed up to pay honour to her. There is a memory book being made for her, filled with our stories and pictures.
Mark shared how Emily was the teacher that was able to get through to me in teaching how to read hebrew, and the growth he saw not only in my learning  hebrew, but as a person, developing more self-esteem. After Mark shared, I read the very first verse of Gensis in hebrew.
Last night, I read the first two verses of Gensis in hebrew to my mother.
As the rabbi's wife (Emily, mum) said to me that night, a whole new world is now open to me as I now can begin to read G-d's Word in the Holy Tongue as it was indeed meant to be.
My jounry in hebrew has reminded of a story from the Talmud of a man who through his tears, learned Torah....

A TALMUDIC TALE:

Eliezer was the son of Hurkanas, a leading rabbi of his generation and a very wealthy man.
Eliezer was plowing on the mountain, and he began to cry. His father said: "Why are you crying? If it's hot up on the mountain, I'll move you down to the plain." So Eliezer began to plow in the plain, and cried there too.
"Why are you crying?" Hurkanas asked.
"I want to learn Torah," said Eliezer. He cried until Elijah the Prophet came and told him to go to Jerusalem and seek out Rebbe Yochanan Ben Zakkai, the greatest sage of his generation.
Eliezer went to Jerusalem -- and you guessed it -- started crying: "I want to learn Torah."
Rebbe Yochanan Ben Zakkai asked: "Didn't they even teach you to say the Shema?"
"Nope."
And so the great sage, Rebbe Yochanan Ben Zakkai, taught Eliezer the ABCs of Judaism. Then he said, "Very good, Eliezer. We were successful. Now it's time for you to go."
Eliezer started crying: "I want to learn more Torah."
So Rebbe Yochanan Ben Zakkai taught Eliezer the Five Books of Moses and the Oral Law. After this, Rebbe Yochanan said, "Eliezer, it is time for you to go."
Eliezer cried: "I want to learn more Torah!"
And so it went. Then one day, Eliezer was sitting and learning Torah in the back of the study hall. Unexpectedly, his father Hurkanas walked in. At which point, Rebbe Yochanan Ben Zakkai told Eliezer to move to the front and recite his Torah aloud.
After Eliezer had finished, Hurkanas stood up, and beaming with pride, said: "Eliezer, at first I wanted to give my property to all of my sons but you. But now I am going to give everything I have to you and you alone!"
Eliezer replied, "My father, if I wanted gold and silver, I would have stayed working on the farm. All I want is Torah." And Rabbi Eliezer Ben Hurkanas went on to become the leader of his generation, and the teacher of the great Rebbe Akiva....."

It is said that Eliezer was a slow learner, one with a head filled with straw. That it would be a wasted efforted to even to try to teach him the Shema, let alone Torah. It took the great sage Rebbe Yochamam Ben Zakkai to be able to reach Eliezer. But the biggest breakthrough was Eliezer's tears. He wanted to learn so badly it drove him to tears until he recieved that which he sought. The Jewel known as Torah.
Like Eliezer, I cried many tears, begging to learn hebrew, for I wish to learn Torah in hebrew, the holy langugae. For six years, teacher after teacher tried until I was ready to give up.
And then came Emily. Emily who is handicapped and knows the struggles I have in learning, going through special schooling, not only learned hebrew, but has taught hebrew for the past several years.
Through Emily I have learned how patient G-d is with each of, walking beside us and rejoicing in that "I got It!" moment. How He beams when we realize "I can do this!"
My new friend Jodie told me as I learn hebrew, I will learn a lot about others, about myself.
That is true.
And one of the first lesson is to turn A head of straw into a head of Torah.

I Don't Believe So

Shalom:
By now most who are reading this blog entry have heard that the World is Ending tomorrow.
One Harold Camping, 89 years old, has, using the scriptures and what he believes are biblical dates (i.e the date of Noah's Flood, etc) that the rapture will occur tomorrow evening around six p.m.
Mr. Camping believes that the Rapture, when Messiah will call His people home to be with Him and all hell will break loose on earth.
I did a little research on Mr. Camping; this isn't the first time he has set the date as 1994, even wrote a book by that title. 1994? (That's the title)
Because of my home training and torah teaching, Mr. Camping is an older man and so I shall be respect, though I do believe he is wrong.
As a Messinac Jew, I do believe in the words of Yeshua who said "No man knows the times or seasons of the Coming of the Son of Man, not even the Son."
The meaning is clear, not even Messiah knows when He shall return.
The return of Messiah is to be as a Thief in the Night.
No thief announce when he/she will break into a home.
Are we living in the last days before Messiah's return? Yes. But for people of faith, this isn't a fearful thing, but something that gives us hope. A hope we can share with others.
Sadly, all Mr.Camping has done has caused fear with many and caused g-dly people to be a laughstock. Because every person who has ever set a date they believe is when "Messiah Returns" or "The World Will End" has proved to be false and they come out looking like liars.
I truly believe in the Promises of the Bible and Messiah. I also believe the Torah.
"No man knows the day or the hour."
With respect Mr. Camping, I don't believe so.

Heaven: My Home Sweet Home

Shalom:
Today, in  a interview with the Guradian newspaper, Stephen Hawking, the famous British physicist, called the notion of heaven a "fairy story". A belief that heaven or an afterlife awaits us is a "fairy story for people afraid of death."


Really?
In a dismissal that underlines his firm rejection of religious comforts, Britain's most eminent scientist said there was nothing beyond the moment when the brain flickers for the final time.
Well, Professor Hawking has a right to his opinions. And franking, I am not smart enough to debate. I would never stand a change; look like at this cute, round, brown jewish frum and I would be tasty pudding within minutes.
I know many who share his thoughts. Again, that is their belief and their right.
But for me, I have never even wrestled with the thought of if there is life after death. Not because of my upbringing, but just a sense in my being that this could not be all there is. That to life some seventy, eighty years and then to go into nothingness just doesn't make sense to me.
It IS science that convice me that there is life beyond the grave as well as my faith.
And I am married to a science teacher who says the evidence of G-d is there for all who wish to see.
His words, not my.
Fairy Story.
Those who say we who believe in G-d and Heaven are trusting in a fairy story. I would suggest Professor Hawkins read the history of Fairy Tales. More often than not, they were based on some true event or story. There was some morale to them that imparted a truth to the young and old alike.
Since a white knight did indeed come riding into my life, slay the dragon and after our fairy tale wedding, took to the castle we decorated ourselves and living pretty happyily ever after, I have no problem believing in the fairy story of Heaven.
Besides, no one as of yet has made me a better offer.
Heaven: what a wonderful choice.

What is Your Torah? Part 2

Boker Tov:
It has been a quiet day for far.
Mark is attending his last day of drill. It's crazy to miss your beloved so much when they shall return home with twelve hours instead of twelve months, but I do.
So, right now I am taking a break from cleaning the bedroom. Really can't rearrange the room; too small. And still no good leads on finding a home.
But our house is out there.

I remember as a child learning Torah at the feet on mother, grandmother and uncle Oscar.
Different points of view and yet they said the same thing:
"Put shoe leather to your prayers (Grandmother)
"Be the answer to the prayers you utter (Mother)
"If you can't live it, keep my mouth shut. (Uncle Oscar.)
Oh there was more, of course, but the lession stuck.
Mainly because I watched the examples of others.
I watched people who claimed to be followers of G-d, to love, honour and obey Him. People who could spend hours and hours studying the bible, praying and preaching to others. Yet their families went often time neglected, their work habits weren't the best and were as mean as a snake.
And then I knew people claimed to love G-d, to honour follow and obey Him and spend a few hours in Bible study and prayer and their familes had their full attendion and knew they were loved. These dear people were the most faithful of workers and were amoung the kindnest , sweetest, G-d like folk I have ever met.
The diffence?
One word: Balance.
Yes, I love my time of prayer and study. But it cannot be my life. I am also a wife, G-d willing day, a mother, a daughter and a friend. I am a servant of G-d.
Just as there must be a balance in all areas of life, it must be the same in our spiritual as well. Just as I must make time to be with the Holy One, I also must make time to be with my beloved, with friends, with family. It is the making of a meal, changing of a diaper, sharing a cup of coffee with a friend. It is sharing a laugh with Liz via the inernet and praying for my doggie buddie Koda who is fighting cancer. 
So what is my Torah?
Life

What is Your Torah? Part One

Boker Tov:
A Hasidic Rabbi once went to visit his friend. His friend studied while his child cried in the next room. The Rabbi asked him "Don't you hear your child? Why don't you go to him?" His friend, emerging from the reverie of learning, said "You know, I get so immersed in the intricacy and beauty of Torah that I tune out the world." The Rabbi admonished him, "If your Torah makes you neglect the cry of a child, then your Torah is no Torah."



The Torah.
Most people when they think of Torah, this of the first five books of the Bible, The Law given to Moses to give to the Nation of Isreal.
While true, Torah also means The Teaching of G-d, The Word of G-d. It means Command, Commandments. It is the first five books, but it is also all of the Bible.
The Torah  is the Tree of Life and a Light to our path. The Torah is as sweet as honey and a balm to those who are need of healing. The Torah teaches us how to live, how to treat others as well as The Holy One's love letter to us.
But how often is Torah neglected? How many who claim to love G-d, not go to His House to ear His Torah? How many fail to sit at the feet of a teacher and learn? How many bibles sit on bedsides and coffee tbales unread?
The beauty of Torah. So yes, I have gotten lost in her....and then found myself running about, because I have twenty minutes to get ready for work!
That isn't being holy...that was a misuse of my time.
Torah drives us to do better, be better, treat our family, friends and co-workers in a lovely, loving matter.

 But Torah can be misused as well. As the story above, child's cry went unheard because its father was studying Torah. How many cries of children, husbands and wives, mother and fathers go unheard because we are "studying" "praying". How many neighour needs go unmet because we are hurrying to the House of G-d, to prayer, to Bible study. 
 If we are beating others over the head with its teaching, if we are pounding the desk or table with her as we judge others, then our torah is not Torah. 
 If we are so busy praying and studying that our wives, husbands, parents, children are neglected, that we tune out the needs of our neighours, then our torah isn't Torah.
Torah leads us to a life of love and good deeds. It leads us to shine forth the Light of the Holy One onto a darken world. It leads us to share our shabbat table as well as the beauty of Torah.
Some of my favorite stories is of rabbis, pastors and teachers who have been late for services because they stopped to help change a tire, stopped with supper for a sick neighour or was helping their daughter with her math homework. A minister who sweeps the church floor, the rabbi who deliver meals on wheels. A family who invites to their table the family of a soldier serving in Iraq.
That's Torah.







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Carolina CupCakery: A Sweet Treat

Boker Tov:
Several years ago, I gave my mother a Mother's Day card that cost six dollars.
Yes, it was a VERY nice card.
Mummie loved it. But guess who forgot to blacken out the price on the back of the card?
One eyebrow went up; "I better be able to eat this!"
To say that mummie was ready to hit me with her cane over spend so much money on a card is an understatement.
So this year, to avoid a repect of the above, I decided on something sweet.
Several months ago, Mark while getting coffee, found  Carolina CupCakery Cafe. A little pricey, but worth it. Made from srcatch, all natural, the company offers not only kosher, but vegan and gluten free cupcakes.
There are several reasons why I love this store and not just because they offer a good cupcake:
Dawn, the Founder and owner of Carolina Cupcakery, along with her two daughters started the busniess about four years ago.  From the beginning, Dawn has been committed to offering a preservative-free, chemical-free gourmet product. She had been advised that her idea would not work because so many people prefer the cheaper super moist box mixes.
Thankfully, Dawn didn't listen. 
As a baker myself, I know that  scratch baked goods do not taste like pudding and they do not last for weeks. Butter, sugar and flour have expiration dates and cupcakes do too. There are no  preservatives in Carolina Cupcakes, but they are nice and fresh. 
The fact that the owner has gone out of her way to make a product to a market often overlooked as well as  taste good is a major plus. 
And they are pretty.

This is AnnaBella, made for mum Reel's birthday. It is a lemon cupcake with a lavender flower on top. She said it was wonderful.

And these lovely beauties are the Red Velvet. This is the sweet treat we decided to give our mothers instead of cards.
Mummie said her cupcake lasted 15 minutes.
Both mums love the new tradition of cupcakes instead of cards.
I know dad is waiting for next month :)

Shabbat, Lovely Shabbat

It is almost Shabbat.
Lovely, lovely Shabbat.
After the week that was, Shabbat is the glorious rest we need.

The roast and veggies are done and I am about to make the salad. The scent of challah fills the air.
The table will soon be set. The wine pour and the songs of shabbat shall echo through the house.
It is times like these that shabbat is the most precious.
We will turn off the TV and the computer, shut the door on the world.
For it is shabbat.
If the there is ever a time we have needed you, it is now.

Honour thy Mother and Father

Boker Tov;
Well it is that time of the year again: the selling of pricely cards, flowers and boxes of candy. Dresses and jewerly on sale.
No it isn't V. Day, but Mother's Day.
Or as we call it in our home, Guilt Day.
Why Guilt Day? Because all we long we are told "buy this flower to show your mother you love her." Or "Show your mother you love her and buy this necklace." And my favorite "20% off all Mother Day cards this week only."
Like they sell Mother Day's cards the rest of the year.
Even the woman who's idea Mother Day's was by the time of her death was calling for its end because the day had become too commerial.

My mother and I were talking about this a few days ago.
Some of my friends do not celebrate Mother's Day because of its pagan roots. And if it isn't in Torah, they don't have a part in it.
Others go on the other extreme and shower their mother with all the above.
My mother thinks the pagan connection is silly and the other extreme of showering mother with gifts and flowers (which is frankly worshipping your mother) is uncalled for and insane.
"Instead of spending five dollars on a card, just give me the cash." Mummie would say.
My mother would often say of her own mother: "I gave mama her flowers while she was still alive." Whether she was living with us or later when Grandmother had to go to live in a Nursing Home, mummie always brought her mother flowers for her room once a week.
For the last five years of her life, Grandmother lived with us. It wasn't an easy time. Yet I watched my mother give my grandmother the love and care she needed. No matter how busy she was, mummie always found the time to visit with her mother. Even if it meant traveling to 45 minutes to the Nursing Home three time a week.
I learned from watcing my mother care for her own mother what it means to truly honour your mother.
Mummie often tells me how proud she is of my sister Eileen and I. How happy she is with the women we grew into and how we live our lives. How we live our lives is our gift to her; this is honour we honour.
The flowers and candy are nice. But for her, she knows her daughters and sons-in-law love her, are there for her and that every day is Mother's Day.
Mother's Day is suppose to honour the 'mothers of our nation."
That's nice. And how many "mothers" will have to go to work that day instead of getting the day off? How many will get a Mother's Day bonus in their paycheck?"
How many of us will get a call from a child we haven't heard from in a year. Or not at all?
I love my mother and mother-in-law. I love being a mum. And next to be a military wife, it is the toughest, yet most rewarding job on earth.
Sunday this nation will say "Happy Mother's Day." to the nations mothers. And I do think that is a good thing.
Mothers, like fathers, are our nations heroes. She who rocks the cradle, rules the world. And I don't see a thing wrong with giving every mother the honour she is due.
But let us just be sure it is because we love them and not because call companys tell us to.
Happy Mother's Day.