Spring and Passover have finally arrived!

Passover is finally here! And so is the warmer weather!
 

   There is so much I love about Passover: welcoming friends who have graced our table each year and new ones too, the fun and the laughter, the pride I feel when my children chant the 4 questions, setting and decorating the table using my china, pulling out the Lenox Seder plate and Elijah's cup that belonged to Garrett's father, Robert's freshly made horseradish that is not for the faint at heart, paging through my children's handmade haggadah's and singing to the Maccabeats.  It's magical!

   I also definitely love the way Passover transports Garrett. He takes a trip down memory lane and remembers how his father used to lead their family Seder. He literally smiles all day long, reminiscing, and at the end of the Seder we all loose our inhibitions or perhaps it's that we all have no other choice but to join him in Adir Hu, singing at the top of our lungs. It's magical!

  

  But what I love most about Passover is that it takes me back to my Oma Rose's kitchen and the fun we had cooking and baking together.  Hands down she made the best matzoh ball soup (her secret was to use the chicken fat for the matzoh balls); her chopped liver was a feast for both the eye and your taste buds and her flourless nut cake sure beats American macaroons any day.  Her homemade gefilte fish was something people still talk about.  So this Passover as I flip to my familiar recipes that were handed down to me, I pause and remember the legacy of an amazing woman who shaped my life in so many ways. And it's magical!

 Traditions, memories and yearly rhythms of the familiar are such a gift. They connect the past to the present and remind us that we belong. That we are part of a history that takes us all the way back to Egypt. And we celebrate the fact that God delivered our people, that He delivered them out of slavery and bondage to Pharoah and into the Promised Land. That they "passed over" from death to life and we celebrate the fact that He still redeems and delivers us today.

   In a world of Pharoah's; Hammen's; Hitler's and Hamas we celebrate the fact that Passover is God's way of showing His power and victory.  Their plot to eradicate the Jewish people and thereby call God powerless has not and will not prevail! And for me this is very personal. My grandpa Kurt

lost his entire family in the holocaust. All but an aunt through marriage perished.   He was the only survivor. His mother snuck over the German/Belgium border, with gold coins sewn in the lining of her jacket to make the escape possible and he boarded a ship destined for Namibia. His family was to leave their vineyard and everything behind to follow him, should things get worse, but they never were able to escape.

   Years later my grandfather went back to Germany to revisit his hometown and he connected with one of his parent's workers. She was actually able to share some missing details and before he left she handed him some things she had kept of theirs for him. Among them was a large, white, floral embossed, monogrammed, banquet tablecloth!

   And just today, I went to the dry cleaners to pick up that very table cloth, because along with those amazing Passover recipes, that beautiful, now almost 100 year old tablecloth, was handed down to me! A tablecloth that no doubt was used in the home of my great grandparents, Carola and Bernard Stern on special occasions like Passover.

   
   And so every year at Passover I cook my grandmother's Matzoh Ball soup, we make her chopped liver and flourless nut cake (sorry Oma I am buying the gefilte fish) and yes, I place that almost 100 year old white, floral embossed, monogrammed, banquet tablecloth on my dining room table as a reminder. As a reminder of the amazing people that went before me. My people. And I thank and remember my God, who invites me this Passover, to celebrate the fact that His story of redemption still prevails for me and for my children and for generations still to come!

PS: Chag Sameach to my family and friends and may your Passover truly be magical!

This slowness actually changes me!

My childhood in Namibia afforded me so many wonderful experiences. Living in a small coastal desert town, where the majestic and expansive Namib sand dunes meet the vast Atlantic ocean, is something that I now only truly realize was more than unusual. One of my fondest memories was when the Swakop River FINALLY reached the ocean, once every 7 years or so, mind you. It seemed our entire little town would gather at the mouth of the river at sundown. As children we would dig crazily, not too unlike a dog in ferocious search of a lost bone, to create tunnels that would eventually lead the trickle of water into the ocean. And as children we would cheer loudly, as our parents in the background would clink their bottles of local lager. Life seemed to stand still in that moment!

                                                                                                                                                                                

Come to think of it though, most things back home stood still, stayed the same. Rapid change was not part of our landscape. The sand dunes changed their shape over very slow periods of time, the river bed remained dry, but for once every 7 years. The towns people stayed the same, no one left, and the variance in the weather was but 5 degrees between winter and summer. Yes life stayed the same, there was little change and we liked it that way. It formed us.





But as God would have it, someone did leave.

 And that someone was me. And now I find myself in a new country where things change at a rapid pace. People come and people go. Things move at a much much faster pace and yes the variance between summer and winter is not a mere 5 but 80 degrees. It's stark. And so it's no wonder that while sameness is something I crave, there is one change I am always desperately looking to speed up, if only I had the power to. That change from the dead of winter to the new life of spring. But it's a very slow and steady change.


 It seems a lifetime til the little green tufts of grass finally start to appear, even while the cold white snow still covers the solid hard ground.

It seems a  lifetime til the first shoots start to appear at the ends of brown lifeless trees limbs.

And just when I doubt it will ever happen, I see the first flowers: purple crocuses, yellow daffodils and the glory of the tulip that remind me life is not all cold and dead after all.

A new season is approaching. The new is emerging. Change is finally here! And while I wish I could hasten it, not too unlike a dog in ferocious search of a lost bone, I cannot. No matter how much I want to, I just simply cannot. And in fact even more profoundly, this slowness actually changes and shapes me.

And so also in this three-year season of transition we have been in, that all too often has felt cold,  lifeless, like the dead of winter and that spring will never ever arrive, this Easter I am filled with a

renewed hope that the buds are opening and our  spring is upon us! And so I wait. Trust. Rest in my Lord for His timing. Rest in the one who is able to bring life from the dead. Because He is the one who brought me my Savior, the very one who died for me and rose from the dead so that indeed I can have a new life! 

 

The ultimate transformation from the dead of winter to the glory of spring! 

The most unappreciated GIFT OF LOVE I will ever give my kids

We have a pet bunny. Yes we really do.  His name is Rascal and I think we should have thought twice before naming him that, because he is living up to his name! He chews on EVERYTHING and somehow my expensive shoes and handbags seem to be on his A list. Well those and now he has taken to destroying our couch. Anyone who has hung out in our home knows our couch. It's the most comfortable couch out there and more than that it was a wedding gift from my beloved grandparents who have since passed away.  So all that to say this bunny needs to be trained to stay clear of the couch. Pronto!

 

Now have I told you that my kids adore our bunny? And Garrett and my stern discipline of the said cute bunny is not being too well received. "Ahh mom you are so mean!" And the fact that we have asked them to assist in the training of Mr Rascal by giving him a good swat on the rear and raising their voices with a firm "NO!" the moment they find him on the couch seems unconscionable to them. Zach's execution of that instruction this morning was a little love tap. And we tried to tell Zach that was actually not the most loving thing he could do for Rascal in that moment. Right now he actually needs a greater love. The gift of love found in firm discipline.

And would you know this gave us opportunity to talk to our kids about discipline being for their own good too. It's an act of love. "Really?! How?" You see kids Rascal might not like the firm discipline he is receiving, but he honestly does not realize he needs it. If he does not conform he will need to leave our home. And none of us wants that, least of all him. So this really is an act of love and for his own good. And come to think of it that's not all too different from the discipline you receive from us. Discipline is not a punishment, it's actually training. It's meant to change you. And if you think we enjoy disciplining you we actually hate it. It's the hardest thing we have to do as parents. We honestly would rather not have to dish out that "swat and raised voice", but we actually believe it's the most loving thing we can do for you. To train you to make better choices and to help you conform for your OWN GOOD is the most loving thing we can do for you.

And yes we don't expect you to thank us for it, but we do believe it's probably the most unappreciated gift of love you we will ever receive from us.

"No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it." Hebrews 12:11


"My child, do not despise the Lord’s discipline and do not resent his rebuke, because the Lord disciplines those he loves, as a father the child he delights in." Proverbs 3:11-12

Rascal would do well to heed the advise in "Peter Rabbit"

Why the Panthers could take a lesson from the Patriots

A year later I reflect on last years Patriots' win in the Superbowl and I smile. What a game! And for tonight we are focusing a little more on the yummy food we will be eating than on who wins. My family will always love the Patriots and here is one of the main reason why this Namibianmamma is so glad that her son's a PATS fan. 

Because believe it or not I care a whole lot about how players perform right after a great defensive play, after a touchdown or during post-game interviews. That's what really matters to me. I probably care about that more than the victory itself (don't tell my son I said that). And why? Because my sports fanatic son is watching you. And while he probably will never be a pro football player, if he is going to be spending that much time watching football, he had better be getting something more than just the enjoyment of the game out of it. 

           

     

More than anything I want my son to be a mensch, a person of character. And for that to happen he needs good role models. And while I am so thankful that his greatest hero happens to be his daddy, an amazing guy, I know that his sport’s heroes are also shaping him. And I am quite satisfied in the sports heroes he has found in this team. These men are stellar! They are humble, they are fun loving and play as a team and celebrate as a band of brothers. The post-game interviews impress me. This team honors one another, they think the world of their coach, they never take glory for themselves, it's always a team win and they never speak badly of their opponents. It just never happens. And while I realize that that's what's expected of them by their franchise and that it's no doubt an internal fight for them each time not to speak of their own accomplishment, they do not give into that impulse. Not even undrafted rookie Malcolm Butler, with his incredible game winning play, spoke of his accomplishment in gloating terms last year. 

And yes while they still do a victory dance here and there after a great play, it's rare and it's not that over the top either. OK maybe Gronk, the fun loving party animal is the exception, but somehow he manages to pull it off. And I am not sure why the over the top victory dances get under my skin so, but I can't stand it. I find it so prideful. It's such an over focus on the individual player and "their" accomplishment.  "Look at me, look at how great I am!" Is this not a team sport after all? And in doing it they also cut down and demean their opponent. Ugh. It's just gross. 

So to the New England Patriots I say thank you. Thank you for being a bunch of guys I am happy my son gets to emulate. And yes I am sad you did not make it to the superbowl. And let me tell you for a diehard rugby fan that's quite a confession to make!

A little sluggish the day after last years Superbowl