Shabbat Shalom
Tag Archives: Gibson Household
Sukkah Lessons
My thoughts are all over the place as I download and process the past week. For this reason, my post may not read as smoothly as others, but I promise that it will be no less enjoyable.
The Gibson Household celebrated Sukkot during what was an unusually warm week of October. The sunshine was amazing, and we relaxed in our sukkah during the day and long into the evening.
Sukkah Shadows
One theme or concept that Adonai repeatedly showed me as I sat in our little sukkah was how fragile human life is. It was a gentle reminder to walk with Adonai and not attempt to bend Him to my will. My faith was strengthened when reminded that with my life in His more than capable hands, who or what did I have to fear?
Through the Sukkah Curtains
The sukkah frame we used this year is one we’ve employed for two or three years now. Admittedly, we were lazy and failed to put our sukkah up one year since the construction of this particular frame. While I won’t make excuses for myself, I am reminded that Adonai is patient with me. As long as I’m drawing breath, there is an opportunity to do better in the next moment.
Golden Sukkot Days
I really like this frame because our son, Joshua, designed it. It’s very sturdy, and still the designer in him wants to create something more substantial. He asked if he could dig postholes, fill them with concrete, and add forms that would secure posts in place. I gently reminded him that his idea would be permanent, and one of the points of Sukkot was to remind ourselves of the temporary nature of this portion of our life. He nodded in agreement and went on to design a sturdier frame under the requirements that it must be able to be dismantled and transported not unlike the original sukkahs Israel used.
Guinea Girls Approve the Sukkah
Adonai’s most poignant reminder regarding the fragility of life came late Thursday evening. I haven’t posted about this on social media because I was so stricken by what occurred that I didn’t know how to process it.
A storm—one that didn’t produce copious amounts of wind or rain—blew our sukkah right over. I was horrified because we couldn’t repair or restore anything until Friday. As Will assessed the damage and ended up dismantling our sukkah until next year, I turned my eyes from the windows every time I walked by.
I never asked Adonai why this occurred, and I don’t believe in signs or omens of ill. I was reminded of the fallen sukkah of David and how Adonai is restoring it more every day. I thought to myself how wonderful it would be if Yeshua HaMashiach returned on Shemini Atzeret or Simchat Torah.
One thing that did raise my spirits regarding our sukkah was our son’s determination to redesign it within my guidelines, and even more beautiful, his suggestion that we use a wood burner to inscribe our favorite passages of scripture into the beams.
Cool Sukkot Evenings
And then, the next morning, we arrived for Shabbat services to learn that Godless cowards had attacked Israel. The enemy opened another battlefront, and believers met the onslaught fiercely in prayer. Believers are soldiers who, at any given moment, are on their knees fighting evil.
So, as the Gibson Household embarks on another cycle of life, studying Torah, preparing for the moedim, and fighting in the many warzones the enemy launches to discourage us, I’m encouraged that my fragile life is, as always, safe with Adonai.
Baruch HaShem!
Share this:
Do You Hear What I Hear?
I tend to get in the middle of a task and suddenly needing something I can’t reach or forgot to grab in the first place. No problem. My husband, Will, is usually in the house, so I yell for him.
This exact scenario happened the other day, and fortunately, Will called back to ask what I needed thus expressing a willingness to retrieve said item. I told him exactly what I needed and exactly where to find it. The search was on.
I know, because I was the last person to use the item and/or the one who purchased it and placed it where it belonged, that it was exactly where I said it would be. But Will could not find it.
Now, if your home is anything like the Gibson Household, at this point, a conversation bellowed between rooms takes place because why would you walk into the room where the person in need is located? And now stuck in many ways! No help in locating the desperately needed item was forthcoming.
Except for a continued description of the item in the minutest detail shouted across the house in a voice somewhere between panic and rising anger. Quite possibly through clenched teeth.
And then, most unexpectedly and with great enthusiasm, Will’s shout of, “I found it!” rang throughout the house. Sighs of relief were enjoyed all around and life resumed with some sort of normalcy.
Upon parting, however, he made a strange comment. “I couldn’t see it because I expected it to look like that other thing you have.”
What? I described what I needed in precise detail. Slow dawning came. “You weren’t really listening, were you?” At this point, I could allow my annoyance to boil over into anger, but HaShem has taught me to pause and look at the situation because there is usually a lesson involved.
Because Will expected the item to look like something else, he literally could not see what I needed on the shelf in front of him. My verbal description, i.e., what he heard, was useless because his brain saw what he wanted. He was blinded by his expectations.
How many times have we done the same thing with Adonai? We humbly petition for something we need, and when the answer doesn’t arrive looking exactly as we expect, we cannot see it. Or worse, we claim our prayer wasn’t answered.
The same thing applies when reading scripture. Believers claim that HaShem is still speaking to them, but when His words on the page don’t match our image of Adonai based on our religion, doctrine, theology, or traditions, we cast Him, His character, and his Word aside. We’re not hearing, and what’s worse, we’re not listening.
Believers who don’t or won’t listen cannot see what’s right in front of them. They cannot perceive HaShem’s truths. Their spiritual sight weakens because their ears are not listening, and they begin to trust what they see more than what they hear. In short, they aren’t obeying.
Obedience begins with hearing, progresses to listening, and grows into action.
Now don’t hear me say that my husband wasn’t obeying me. The point of this post is not to criticize men or husbands. I turned Adonai’s brilliant insight back on myself and learned that my expectations will be satisfied to their utmost when they look like HaShem’s will for me. I’ll know His will for me when I listen to His Word and act upon it.
Only then will I find Him, only then will I see Him.
hl gibson, author 