I showed up to my marriage a bit uncultured.  Not so much a commentary on my family of origin, but more a commentary on the exquisiteness of my new wife Dena.

 

Over the years, I have learned from Dena to appreciate many things about the world, G-d’s world.

 

One of them I learned from Dena’s excitement about this time of year.  Here in Georgia we have four real seasons but none too harsh. Southern California where we are from has one season with varying degrees of temperatures.  The trees don’t really shed their leaves and the flowers don’t really bloom in the spring.

 

In February the tulips in front of Chabad on the BeltLine begin to bud and by Feb 10th they are in full bloom.  Walking down the BeltLine yesterday I saw a tree completely bare of leaves with a thin smattering of green beginning to express itself at the top.  Another tree completely bare with some white blossoms showing up at the ends of the branches saying “hi, good afternoon”!

 

I thought to myself, how is this connected to this week’s Parsha? This Parsha is all about making a home for Hashem in this world. In its original it was the Mishkan in the Dessert, later to be the Temple in Jerusalem but in all it is the home we make for G-d inside of ourselves and in the world around us.

 

“Make for me a sanctuary and I will dwell within them; within each and every one of Israel”.

 

While G-d’s Temple requires a holy of holies, a holy, an ark, a menorah, an alter and many more very detailed requirements, our home for G-d is in a way much more difficult but less complicated.

 

Like the blossom of the flower or the greening of the tree (I really connected with that) we are asked to bring our deepest self and express it in its smallest form or in whatever form we can express it.

 

The home for G-d is built by not giving into the darkness, the coldness of winter, the despair.  Yes, it may have been cold and dark for too long, but don’t give in. It will get warmer, the sun will shine again, push, push, push, G-d is waiting.  All He wants to see is a little bud.

 

This yiddish poem was included in my grandfathers ethical will that was distributed to his grandchildren.