This was on a blogger friends blog, she had read it in a newspaper
and it was submitted anonymously.
A few months before I was born
my Dad met a stranger who was
new
to our small town.
From the beginning, Dad was
fascinated with
this enchanting
new comer and soon invited him
to live with our
family.
The stranger was quickly accepted and was
around to
welcome me into the world a few months later.
As I grew up , I
never questioned his place in my family.
In my mind he had a special
niche.
My parents were complementary instructors: Mom taught me
the
word of God, and dad taught me to obey it.
But the stranger? He
was our story teller.
He would keep us spell bound for hours on end
with
adventures, mysteries and comedies.
If I wanted to know anything
about politics,
history or science, he always knew the answers about
the
past,understood the present, and even seemed to be able
to predict
the future!
He took my family to the first major league ball
game.
He made me laugh, and he made me cry.
The stranger never
stopped talking, but my Dad didn't seem to mind.
Sometimes Mom
would get up quietly while the rest of us
were shushing each other to
listen to what he had to say,
and she would go to her room and read
her books.
( I wonder now if she ever prayed for the stranger to
leave.)
Dad ruled our house hold with certain moral convictions,
but
this stranger never felt obligated to honor them.
Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our home...
not from us, our friends, or
any visitors. Our long time visitor,
however, got away with four
letter words that burned my ears,
and made my dad squirm and my mom
blush.
My Dad was a teetotaler who didn't permit alcohol
in the
home, not even for cooking. But the stranger
encouraged us to try it
on regular basis.
He made cigarettes look cool, cigars manly and
pipes distinguished.
He talked freely ( much to freely) about
sex.
His comments were sometimes blatant,
sometimes suggestive,and generally embarrassing.
I know my early concepts about relationships
were influenced
strongly by the stranger. Time after time, he
apposed the values
of my parents, yet he was seldom rebuked..... and
never asked to leave.
More than fifty years have passed since the
stranger
moved in with our family. He has blended right in
and is
not as fascinating as he was at first.
Still, if you were to
walk into my parents den today
you would still find him sitting over
in his comer,
waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him
draw his pictures.
His name? We just call him T.V.
(I'm happy to say that when we move next month, TV will not be coming with us!)
Great post, Lori-Dawn =)
ReplyDeleteTo answer your question about tzitzi...
The only advice I would give is this: Make them special to you. In the Torah we are given the instruction of making them, and including in them a blue thread, and wearing them. That's it. =) Simple, huh? There is no right way or wrong way. Just that you do so.
I personally tied for myself tzitzi in a manner that was personal. I tied the name YHWH; Yud=5, He=10, Vav=6, He=5... each 5 times. I used 4 colors, each color a letter. And tied it the number it represents. Each colored tied in the manner as to "spell" out His name, 5 times. Representing the five books of Torah. The instructions of a Loving Father. Then I left the *unbound* part of my tzitzi the same length as the *bound* part. Representing to me that the Torah is the Law of Freedom. Also representing the Old and Renewed covenant. Freedom can only come from the Instruction of Freedom. We can't have the second part with out the first part. And one does not do away with the other. Also, The law and grace. We have grace as an enablement to fulfill the law (instruction). And the Torah (law, instruction) leading me to my Salvation, Yeshua... oh, I could go on and on... but see how personal my tzitzi are to me. I think that is the point though, right. They are mine, they are personal, they are a reminder unto me, and when I look upon them, or hold them, they are a reminder unto me. Personal, much like our relationship with Him. =0) (BTW... I also think that is why we are to "make for yourself", rather than buying them, or having them made for you...)
So, my advice is to make them personal, in a way that allows you to look at them and remember :D Remember to do all of His mitvot, as a faithful lover of Yah. I don't think there is a right or wrong way. It took me a little while after understanding that we are actually suppose to do it today, before I did it. I wanted it to be a heart thing for me, and make sure I did not look good on the outside, and yet it not be an act of obedience out of love. I did not want to be a white washed tomb. So, I studied and waited until I knew my actions would be out of great love for Father's instructions, and not because I felt pressure from other T.O.B.Y's ... and I wanted my children to have the same kind of experience. When you know for yourself that it is part of who you are, no one can take that away from you. Where as if we are doing it because others are, we are no better than the Sheepeople who just do as they are told, that which we came out of... Does that make sense? You can not shake an experience. People will try, but when it is a part of you, it is of no benefit. Can someone tell you that your right pinky finger is not yours. That it is not part of who you are? =oD
I hope this helps. Continue seeking Him who called you, and make every act of obedience one that is full of love and joy! Then it doesn't matter who is looking on, only that He is looking on!
I did not mean to write a novel... Be encouraged!
Love you, sister!