It’s Friday, so it’s a Challah-Day!

OK so it’s a play on words, and no, I’m not apologizing.

I began baking bread this morning (this loaf will go out to a friend),

 And working on a Bible Journaling entry and realized, in my mind, the two

Coincide—or maybe collide.

So, I might have alluded this previously (in a blog) and I’m going to do it again.

In the 1980’s my best friend (Jacqueline Schuler) taught me how to bake bread (for my birthday). I found bread baking to be amazing and magical, and she spent all one evening teaching me how to make whole wheat bread, and at the end of it, I was hooked. The following Christmas, my mother and (then) husband purchased a breadmaker for me (one pound loaf) at $99 it was a steal (from K-mart) and probably the most expensive gift my (then) husband had ever given me (and yes, that includes my wedding ring).

But I digress.

Later, I attended a 24 hour retreat in Orlando, called “Womanrest”.

The coordinator of this Episcopal retreat facility was (oddly) Jewish.

She provided a ritual to kick off our retreat,

 the center piece of which was a giant Challah.

It was soft and sweet and holy.

Upon returning home I sought out all of the recipes and techniques I could find for this exquisite (and holy) bread. I learned to braid, and made some

Beautiful (if I say so, myself) breads.

To this day, my choice for a “gift bread” is a Challah bread.

In the light of this, Fridays bring two moods to me that are (seemingly) in antithesis to each other and yet, entwine in me, like the strands of the Challah braid. Friday mornings, my brain (if not my actual body) sets to the task of the bread I will make for the day, and to whom it will be gifted.

The second “mood” in me, seems to be also a kind of spin-off on the Shabbatt concept (if I had it correct in my mind, and I am not sure that I do)

Time to relax. Enjoy your home. Make good food. Have chicken and chicken soup. Make some wonderful bread. Cocoon. 

In parts of my mind, I am walking down the abandon halls of Satellite High School on a Friday afternoon with the strands of the Four seasons playing through my head (or the Bee Gee’s Night Fever). Feeling as though the weekend held nothing but promise for me. It seldom did, actually. I belonged to a choral ensemble (The Ten Tones) so we likely had a performance or two on a weekend. I also held a part-time job.

But I digress.

In that time at the Womanrest retreat I learned several things;

Among them: Rest can be holy and lovely.

Bread can be Holy and lovely.

 If these two can join together in your soul.

Life can be Holy and lovely.

Until next time,

Wash your hands,

Wear your mask.

Plant some seeds.

Eat some wonderful bread.

-Kim