Celebrating the Feasts

Last weekend was Passover (the remembrance of when the Hebrews were liberated from slavery) and we got absolutely no preparations done.

My mother and I were sitting together Tuesday afternoon and she said, “Oh crap! It's Passover in three days!” As a result of which, our Matzah was Saltine crackers, our feast was spaghetti and Acorn squash, and we completely forgot to prepare for Elijah and leave him a place setting (It's a good thing he didn't come this year). On the bright side, we had plenty of wine.

My first thought was to lament how much I've let life slip by, and feel guilty for not being more “on top of things.” But then I realized that it actually made sense in a symbolic reverence.
We ran out of time; We couldn't get lamb to eat, and we couldn't get our Matzah because we flat out rant out of time, just like the Israelite when they were shooed from Egypt. There was no time to let the bread rise. No time to prepare for the meal because the Egyptians wanted them GONE.

I've recently gone through a period of enforced resting, and am now at a point where I'm supposed to be moving forward with my world. It's a bit frustrating; one gets tired of striving and pushing without seeing tangible results. But I am reminded in this season of providence that I have never been without, that all my needs are, and have always been, covered. And at the end of the day, that's not a bad place to be.

I don't really know what I'm being shoved out toward, or what this promised land will look like anymore. But it's good to know that provision has been made, and we'll all get by.