Sabbath Saturday

 Already this morning I have made a list :-) and swept and...

reserved a U-Haul truck for emptying the Holly house on Monday before the closing on TUESDAY!

The light at the end of the tunnel is now almost discernible.

Still having anxiety but it is less. 

I have started making dates with old friends and new.

Plans for the future.

Writing more is one of the plans. 

So in line with my WRITING NOTE Sabbath Saturday, here is a sermon.

"Balak" 

First presented July 19, 2019 as a Drash on Balak by Lisa Hodge Kander

The Parshah this week is Balak. It’s in Numbers 22:2-25:9. I like it. 

One of my favorite verses is found in this week’s Haftarah: Micah 6:8: 

He has told you, O Man, what is good,/ And what the Lord requires of you: /Only to do justice /And to love goodness, And to walk modestly with your God…

Another verse, this one in the parshah itself, inspires one of my favorite songs for the morning liturgy:

Mah tovu ohalecha, Yaakov/ ohalecha, Yaakov / mishk’notecha, Yisrael 

“How beautiful are your tents, Jacob! Your dwelling places, O Israel!”

Good stuff, that. However, I like the Parshah text, in the Torah. I like it even though Rabbi Danielle Leshaw calls it “The Worst Torah Portion.” Sure, it has some problematic parts- I will get to those. 

But, bottom line,  I like it because it’s a story, and honestly, I think it’s funny!

You are familiar, no doubt, with the story of Balaam. The people of Israel, in their travels to the Promised Land, have camped out in the plains of Moab. You’ve read all the “begats” so it won’t surprise you that, with all  that begetting going on, there are A LOT OF ISRAELITES! So many, and they’ve recently beaten up on the Amorites, so Balak, the King of Moab, is getting nervous. He says to his councilors: 'Now will this multitude lick up all that is round about us, as the ox licketh up the grass of the field.'

“They’re going to grab up all of our resources!” Like those hordes of migrants do, right? (This is said sarcastically.)

So Balak, King of Moab, sends his guys to Balaam, who is – well, sort of like a wizard. Apparently Balaam’s blessings and curses always come true. Balak’s guys are to ask Balaam to curse the Israelites, because: he whom thou blessest is blessed, and he whom thou cursest is cursed. “If you curse them,” says Balak, “then I will be able to defeat them for sure!” 

Flatterer! 

Now, the seer/ wizard Balaam gets a bad rap from the rabbis, and I really don’t see why. Because he never says he’s going to do what Balak asks. Balaam checks in with God every time. The first time he is sent for, he tells the messengers, “Stay the night, I’ll see if God speaks to me tonight.” God does speak to him, and tells Balaam not to go. So Balaam says he won’t go, because God said no.

Balak’s guys go back to Balak, tell him, “Sorry, Boss, Balaam says he won’t go.” They leave out the part about Balaam says it’s God’s decision. Balak sends more guys, his best guys, to try again. With bribes. Balaam says, “Even if the king gave me his whole palace full of gold, I still won’t go against what God says.” Still, Balaam says, “Spend the night. We’ll sleep on it. I’ll let you know what God says in the morning.”

This time, God relents. “Okay, fine, Balaam. Go with the guys. BUT only say what I tell you to say.”

Again, I want to point out, Balaam follows God’s instructions. I don’t know what the rabbis have against this guy, really. Unless it’s the animal cruelty. 

Balaam sets out, with Balak’s best guys, to meet up with Balak and check out the Israelite situation. Balaam is riding his faithful friend, his trusty she-ass (I am not making this up, it says it right in the text). God, for whatever reason, has decided to be contrary and sends an angel with a flaming sword to block the way. 

This is one of the problematic bits—God just told Balaam to go, for goodness sake!

Also, only the donkey can see the angel. Because it’s funnier that way.

Maybe there’s another reason, but please, imagine this:

Donkey sees angel. Donkey plants feet and refuses to budge. (Apparently, donkeys can be mulish in this way.) Balaam, seeing nothing, gets mad and smacks the donkey. They start to go around; the angel moves to block. Donkey tries to squeeze away from angel and squishes Balaam’s foot against a fence. Balaam, seeing nothing, gets mad and smacks the donkey. They start to go around; the angel moves to block. Donkey, seeing no way around, lays down and refuses to budge. Balaam, seeing nothing, gets mad and smacks the donkey. 

You’re seeing this, right? It’s comedy gold.

Balaam is furious. So now, God allows the donkey to say what is on her mind.

“Ow! Dude! Why do you keep hitting me?”

(It’s pretty close to that. I may have updated the language a bit.)

Balaam says, “You made me look like a jackass! If I had gun, I’d have shot you!”

Or words to that effect. I’m working with a translation here.

Anyway, the she-ass says, “Look, have I ever done anything like this before? So, you know, maybe there might be a reason?” And Balaam is forced to confess, no, she’s never acted this way before.

Also, Balaam does not react at all to a talking donkey. Just part of a wizard’s day, I guess.

Then—poof! – God lets Balaam see the angel—and doesn’t Balaam feel like a jackass NOW! I can just hear the donkey saying, “NOW do you get it?”

The angel asks Balaam why he was beating the poor donkey? “She saw me and kept you away from me,” the angel says, “if she’d kept going, I would have let her go, but I would have killed you!”

I can just see the donkey hissing “I saved your life, dude!”

Balaam confesses to the angel, “My bad, I totally did not know you were standing in my way. I won’t go if you don’t want me to.”

I will not bother to point out that it is a female donkey, not a straight white male elephant, that can see what is in the way. While the big shots are blind. I won’t even mention it. 

Anyway, the story continues with the angel saying, “Nah, keep going. Just remember to only say what the Divine One tells you to say.”

Balaam meets up with Balak. Balaam repeats he will ONLY say what God gives him to say.

Seriously, why do the rabbis beat up on this guy?

You will no doubt recall that instead of a curse, Balaam speaks a blessing for the people of Israel.

What I hadn’t remembered, until I read over the parshah, is that Balak keeps trying to get Balaam to curse the people – by having Balaam look at the camp from different viewpoints. “Can’t curse from here on Bamoth-baal? Let’s try over here on Pisgah instead! No? How about the peak of Peor?” Balak drags Balaam to three separate locations.

Three is a magical number. Especially for comedy. Now you’re properly set up for the punch line.

So when Balak asks for curses on Israel three times, there are blessings instead, all three times. 

The punchline? Balak blows up at Balaam—and Balaam speaks a final prophecy, which is not only a blessing on Israel, but also a curse on Moab and its king, Balak.

So there. 

If the parshah ended there, that would be great. I can totally argue it as comic relief. 

But no.

The parshah doesn’t end there. 

It continues on to say that in spite of all these blessings, the Israelites start fooling around with Moabite and Midian women, and worshipping idols, and draw down a plague, and some 24,000 people died of the plague. More problematic bits. 

I really wish we had stopped at the talking donkey. 

There are, of course, serious points to be made. Adina Gerver, in her commentary “The Gift of Speech,” quotes Midrash Numbers Rabah which explains that God made all animals mute, because if animals had the power of speech, “they [people] could not subject [animals] and stand over [this]. For this [donkey] was the stupidest of creatures and this [Balaam] was the wisest of the wise, and as soon as she spoke he could not stand before her.’” Gerver goes on to note “Subjugation, in the rabbinic view, is made possible merely by the inability to speak. The donkey’s sudden, surprising voice in this story flips the power dynamic, rendering Balaam powerless in the face of her newfound authority. Speech is a profound expression of power–and the denial of it a crippling means of oppression–around the world.” Gerver draws parallels to suppression of free speech of minorities in today’s world, and the ways that loss of voice is a loss of power.

Rabbi Lisa Edwards, in her commentary “What Are You Looking at But Not Seeing?,” writes “Balak and Balaam demonstrate what they think is good, namely: to fear alien people (in this case, the Israelites); to take up arms against them; to curse them; to use violence against an innocent animal; to punish those who disagree with them; to allow anger to rage out of control; not to listen to advice or information; and to use a God-given talent (blessing and cursing) in the service of murder.” 

This list of what are wrongly thought to be “good actions”—fearing the other, using hate speech, punishing those who disagree with those in power—is far too prevalent these days.

Rabbi Edwards points out that clearly, the donkey, who has served Balaam well, and in this instance saved Balaam’s life, is actually the hero of the piece. God asks us to do the opposite, Rabbi Edwards states, of what Balaam and Balak attempt; we should welcome the stranger, make peace, treat all kindly. Rather than seeking to curse those we fear, we should heed the words of Micah: God asks us “to do justice, And to love goodness, And to walk modestly with your God.”

Rabbi Steven Kushner, in his commentary “Whose Word Is It, Anyway?”, remarks that it’s important to note that Balaam, a noted seer and prophet of his time, is not an Israelite. “In other words, God doesn't speak just to Israelites.” In fact, Kushner notes, since the donkey speaks, it is clear that “it's the message (not the messenger),” that is important. 

In her commentary, “Distance and Proximity,” Julia Appell notes that Balak, in demanding Balaam see the Israelite camp from different viewpoints, may have inadvertently allowed Balaam to see the Israelites as a community, as people. She sees parallels with today’s world: “In order to build connections and wear down hatred we must see others from the appropriate vantage point, one from which we can appreciate their history, their community, and their values.”

In yet another commentary… and another, and another—we can find and illuminate meanings for today and tomorrow. 

Or, we could allow ourselves to laugh. Even Holy Writ could have some lighter moments. 

You know what? I really wish we had stopped at the talking donkey. 

Writing

 I stumbled across a note I wrote myself almost 4 years ago:

WRITING

Memoir Monday

Text Tuesday

Whatever Wednesday 

Thankful Thursday 

Fiction Friday

Sabbath Saturday

...

Not sure why Sunday was not included on that original list.

I will try to think of an alliteration to add for Sunday.

This list was intended to prompt a writing habit. Clearly, it didn't stick then, as I forgot all about it. However, so much has changed in the last four years, maybe it is time to implement this list.

Memoir Monday- I've been using this blog intermittently to record my life events and reflections in these challenging days (weeks/months/years). I want to intentionally seek out glimmers as well as the grief and struggles now. I want to remind myself that there is still beauty, kindness, compassion in the world. See it, speak it, do it!

Text Tuesday was intended (I think, my memory is blurry) to work on a textbook / nonfiction work on theatre- benefits of producing Shakespeare with young people for one example.

Whatever Wednesday as a free writing day.

Thankful Thursday to focus on gratitude.

Fiction Friday to exercise those creative muscles.

Sabbath Saturday- I don't remember if I intended this as a day of rest, or a day for spiritual reflection in my writing.

What shall we do with Sunday? 

Sending Sunday- send a letter or email to a friend or friends?

Selling Sunday- send an article or story out into the world for publication hopes?

Summary Sunday- reflect on and review what I've been reading?

Make a wish. Take a deep breath. Send it out. Plant a seed.

Journal through menus

From March 9 2025 - with post script after my dad died March 21 2025:

I've mentioned before that when the going gets rough, I make food. It is how I show I care; more, it is how I cope.

As my dad is in home hospice care, as he is dying, it is hard to cope.  So I have attempted to record my recent journey by journaling through menus. 

Making food and sweeping floors and shopping and visiting- all these little actions are love. Love is an active verb.

My siblings- Sister D and Brother C  - and I received messages that seemed that our dad's situation was urgent in late January 2025. We all changed our plans (which had been later dates, and staggered- Sister D and Brother C going ahead, Brother C flying home and Sister D staying when I drove to join her mid February) to leave sooner and go together.

It's a long trip from our Michigan homes to dad and his wife DW's home in Alabama near Mobile.

We drove first to our cousin's house in Murfreesboro, TN. We brought a small Sander's bumpy cake for them, and hid the large bumpy cake we brought for our dad and his wife DW. (Bumpy cake tends to disappear in our family!)

Jan 25- We were arriving around dinner time to our cousin's house and our cousin SL had offered to make spaghetti. When we got to Murfreesboro, Sister D noticed the hard financial times for them, so we ordered Chinese take out for them. We thought we ordered enough that there would be leftovers. Almost all was scarfed up! Cousin S & her son K updated us on the on-again/off-again adoption of Cousin S's grandchild KL. It's on again. No idea what to pray for there, as the prospective adopting family is unstable and unpredictable, and Cousin S's health is in no way compatible with raising a challenging 5 year old.

Jan 26 - We left the next morning early enough to arrive in Daphne AL by late lunch/early dinner. Our dad's wife, DW, had made chili and her daughter RL had made cornbread. We greeted our dad in his hospital bed in the living room. We figured out sleeping arrangements.

Dad's wife DW had been sleeping on the couch in the living room, which was her preference, to be near my dad. Her daughter RL and RL's partner J used the double bed in the upstairs bedroom. My sister and I took the twin beds in the other bedroom upstairs, and my brother camped out in a recliner in the living room with Dad and his wife. It was cramped, to say the least.

Jan 27 - We were still settling in, and it was still a large group, with RL and her partner J. We learned the routines of trying to tempt Dad to eat something, of shifting him higher in the hospital bed so he could sit up, of how to lift him to his feet and onto the seat of his rolling walker to bring him to the bathroom. Who had time to cook? Instead we ordered Thai food take out, because the Chinese take out is closed on Mondays. 

Jan 28 - Tuesday. Unfortunately I can't remember everything! I made spinach quiche for breakfast, that I remember. RL and partner J were still staying, as they were closing on a house in the same neighborhood as Dad's house. 

Soon after this, Sister D handled breakfast for everyone just about every morning.

Jan 29 -  Wednesday. RL and J headed back to Michigan. My sticky buns are a favorite, so I had started the dough the previous evening. I got up early to finish the buns for breakfast; but I was coming down with my first ever migraine. When Sister D came downstairs, I handed the task over to her and headed upstairs and back to bed.  I slept until 1:00 in the afternoon.

Jan 30 The next day I made favorite comfort foods: Meat loaf and mashed potatoes, green beans. 

Jan 31 Crock pots are the best! I made beef stew and we had sour dough bread to sop up the juices.

Feb 1 On Saturday, DW's son RF and his spouse JF came to visit. My brother and sister and I had our day out; we drove the long route to Orange Beach. We had lunch at the Pink Pony, then found a new bar on our way back, quite near in Fairhope. It's the Tongue and Groove Drinkery. Great bartender who dug up free merch for us. 

Feb 2  RF and JF had spent the night at their aunt's, DW's sister, who lives in the same neighborhood. They came back for more visiting. My favorite oldest daughter, BI, came for a quick visit between book events in the south, promoting her new novel. Dad was alert and asked about her book and the events. My brother C left to visit his friend in Florida for a while that afternoon. I made poached chicken breast on noodles with steamed broccoli.

Feb 3 I was feeling like comfort food. I made goulash sort of like my mom used to make. I used elbow macaroni, tomato sauce, garlic, ground beef- I kept some separate for me, then added Velveeta to the rest. This was lunch and snacks for the next couple of days.

Feb 4 Sister D made nachos- one cheese only for me, and ground beef and cheese for everyone else. Lots of veggies!

Feb 5 Wednesday - I drove brother C to the airport. He flew home to Michigan, and Sister D and I stayed in Alabama assisting DW and our Dad. We ladies like vegetarian cooking just as well, so Sister D made Stuffed Green Peppers. 

Feb 6  - We were feeling tired and not up for cooking, so we just boiled some hot dogs. This was not to Sister D's liking, so she skipped dinner.

Feb 7 We had some chicken still, so Sister D made Chicken Chili Soup & Salad.

Feb 8 DW's granddaughter CP and her spouse DP came to visit. Sister D and I arranged a Charcuterie board lunch for them and then we took off so they would be able to have their own time with Dad. Sister D and I went out and about, and found a beautiful restaurant located at a marina with pet-friendly patio dining and delicious cocktails.

We came back for the mac-n-cheese, green bean casserole, and salad we had prepped for all.

On Sunday Feb 9 I made Roast Chicken, baked potatoes, green bean casserole, salad.

On Feb 10 Sister D Chicken Quesadillas with the leftover chicken.

On Feb 11 with the leftover chicken carcass and chicken, I made Chicken noodle soup.

On Feb 12 I made Beef stroganoff - I kept some separate so I didn't add the sour cream for my portion, since I don't combine beef and cheese.

On Feb 13 Sister D made home made Chicken pot pie which was delicious!

On Feb 14  - ore somewhere around there- I made To Die For Blueberry Muffins. We shared them with Dad's visiting nurse! It was Valentine's Day. Sister D and I went thrift shopping for curtains and curtain rods to make my dad a makeshift bathroom next to his bed. It was Valentine's Day, so we gave each other chocolate treats and ordered Chinese Take Out.

Feb 15- Saturday- Sister D made English muffins with egg and turkey sausage patties and used up leftover potatoes. DW made salmon in parchment with asparagus and dill. We watched movies: An Unfinished Life and Carry On. We tried the curtain commode. Failed. Dad had a rough night.

On Feb 16 Sunday I made Broccoli Cheese soup to have ready for my daughter CM who came for a short visit.

Feb 17-  We went out for lunch, and had a light grazing supper. Daughter CM had time with Sister D, time with me, and we gave DW a break too!

Feb 18- Charcuterie board was a great idea, and we still had all the ingredients.

Feb 19- Pizza. You can't cook every day!

Feb 20- Chicken Parmesan- My sister D and I collaborated on this and we made a lot so DW would have meals ready for her daughter  RL who was coming for a visit..

Feb 21- Meatloaf- back to comfort food. I made a double batch- some for right away, and some to freeze.

Feb 22 - Spinach quiche- this is an all time favorite for the family.

Feb 25 I have a record of making noodles and broccoli.

Then we went home for a couple of weeks. Sister D and I both had appointments with doctors and other housekeeping issues back home. We got caught up with bills and with yard work and I did some more packing- through all this, I was trying to get my house ready to list. I was suspended between Ann Arbor with my new condo, where I had my bed and my clothes and not much else, and Holly and our old house of 35 years that I needed to pack up, spruce up, and sell.

Which you can't do from Alabama when your old home and new are in Michigan!

While we were back in Michigan, DW's daughter RL was back and helping. My brother and his wife drove back down. His wife stayed a few days, then flew back to Michigan;  Brother C stayed. 

About two weeks later, we headed back to Alabama. My sister and I traveled together in her truck, and my dog stayed with my son JE and his family.

As ever, my sister's dog traveled with us.

We went by way of South Carolina this time, to visit my daughter CM and bring her a few things as she settled into her new home and I was divesting from my old home.

On the way, we were rear-ended which ended up totaling my sister's truck, and added to all of our stress for the rest of our journey,  as we now had to drive back with my brother in his truck when we eventually headed home.

Still, Sister D and I and daughter CM decided to have a girls night out- because we sure could use one!

We were warned that my dad was deteriorating. He was now eating almost nothing. He had lost even more weight. 

And he no longer got out of bed. He was wearing disposable underwear, and had to be changed and cleaned by us. It was a two person job.

I don't remember everything in those next two weeks or so. We were back on March 10 or 11. 

He died on March 21.

All three of his kids, his wife DW and her son RF were all there as he took his last breath. 

Glitch in the matrix

I think there may be a glitch in the Matrix. I am being erased, I fear.

Today, I went to the Secretary of State because I need a certain critical document in order to sell my house, and I was told the Secretary of State was where I could obtain this missing document, or replace it. The home I am selling is a modular home, which apparently is documented as a mobile home, although it is not a mobile home.

I drove 45 minutes to the nearest Secretary of State office that had a Monday appointment. I waited for my appointment. I waited to be called. I brought original mortgage and construction documents and most recent refinance documents. I brought the model and serial number of the house.

Once I reached the window, I explained what I needed.  The person looked up by the address, by my name, by my husband's name, by the serial numbers I provided.

You aren't in the system, I was told. There's nothing there.

I lived there 35 years, I said. I paid property taxes 35 years, I said. We refinanced the home seven times, I said. 

I assure you, it does exist.

She called higher up the pecking order, and printed me some blank forms to fill out and notarize and mail, not deliver personally, to a Lansing address. 

I don't know that I have the wherewithal to complete said forms. The title company associate may be able to help me- but has not returned my calls or emails.

Hasn't been 24 hours yet, so...

Then, I have been anxiously checking my mailbox. I had a hold-mail in place for the past week while I was away. Delivery was supposed to begin again today. 

The first several times I checked, nothing. Mail had not yet arrived.

Then I checked again and there was ONE pizza coupon. 

According to "informed delivery"- a preview of your mail from the Post Office- I have at least 9 pieces of mail. 

I checked: all mail was supposed to be delivered today. To my mailbox.

BUT THERE IS NOTHING THERE.

Two steps forward and one step back

 Two steps forward and one step back is still progress. 

I am in the process of moving out of my home of nearly 36 years. It is difficult physically and emotionally. 

I decided to hire someone to paint. My son had started with the hallway; some friends came and helped me finish the living room (all but one accent wall that we thought was fine. Spoiler alert: it wasn't.)

The kitchen and both bathrooms are still great from a remodel a few years back- we had the left over paint for touch ups here and there.

That left the three bedrooms that desperately needed painting, and one closet that really needed cleaning and then painting.

I decided I would hire painters. Yes, it's costly but so is my mental health and my relationship with friends and family.

When the movers came, and we took out the piano, we discovered that the living room accent wall was in fact NOT FINE and would also need painting.

Add that to the list for the painters.

Then a day or so later as I was dragging stuff from the basement to the side of the road, a friend drives by and stops and chats.

I'd been meaning to talk to him, as he knows about building maintenance (it's his job, actually). So I asked if he knew any painters. He said, sure, he could probably help me out. 

So we set up a meeting, he looked at what needed to be done, and said yep, he could do it. 

I said, wait, what you? 

He said sure.

I said okay, let's talk schedule and price. The clock is ticking and I need to get this listed.

He said he could start Monday if I got the paint. 

I said, and how much would you charge?

He said, I won't charge you. I'm doing this for you. I can do this.

He cautioned me that he did have a class two times a week, and of course he has his full time job. He could come after work, about 2:30 most days.

Great! Unbelievable! 

We met that Monday, I had the paint, he had the equipment, he got started. 

That was nearly two weeks ago. Two of the three bedrooms have been cut in, but that is all that has happened.

I have myself cleaned and painted the closet. Today I'm painting the living room accent wall.

I have to find a friendly, kind, and positive way of asking if he'll be able to get to the bedrooms this week. Because otherwise, I need to hire someone. 

Truly.

I have to get out of this house. For my emotional and mental health. And my financial health.

Where is my story now?

 From Feb 13 2025: 

All the stories are about love and living happily ever after. Usually young love, occasionally a bit more mature love. 

Coupleness.

And I've been one of the lucky ones, blessed to find a lover, a friend, a soul mate. To live happily after.

But now my love is gone, and I am still here.

Where is my story now?

Focus on light

 From Feb 3 2025:

Make peace 

where there is strife.

Where there is darkness

bring light.

Dawn still follows the darkest night.