I have come to my garden, my sister, my bride… (Song of Songs)
I stared at the page in front of me, at the little black letters lined up neatly in organized rows. It seemed daunting to me. It was just individual letters, not words and sentences that convey a message. I sighed as I pulled the book closer to me. I’d give it another shot. See, my problem wasn’t with actual comprehension. I could understand it if I really wanted to. What bothered me was: What does all this mean to me? Do these letters, words, lines, paragraphs, pages – do they hold any meaning for me? Personally? In my life?
I peered into the book, at the open page. Basi Legani… I have come to my garden, to my bridal chamber. Bridal chamber. Those words caught my attention. Maybe this was talking to me.
This world was God’s home, where He felt comfortable, where He could kick his shoes off and put His feet up on the couch. And then He was forced to leave. He wants to come back and that’s our job. We are meant to bring Him back here to this physical world, to His home.
My thoughts veered off sharply into the realm of fantasy. The idea of a home had my imagination running off into the near future. Did I care what color the towels would be? Do the towels have to match the linen? I’d love a black leather couch. Where can I find a cookbook that has tasty but easy to follow recipes? Do they have Cooking for Dummies?
I reigned in my thoughts, trying to refocus on the Ma’amer. So how do I bring God back here together with my leather couch? I continued on in the Ma’amer and the Rebbe answers the question. The way we can bring it back is through subduing the evil and to transform it to good. In the words in the Ma’amer it is called Etkafiah and Et’hapcha respectively. This is how we enable God to feel comfortable here once more.
It’s kind of the same thing with my home, I realized, feeling excitement spreading within me. This Ma’amer really is talking to me. Etkafiah and Et’hapcha really are necessary ingredients in building a home. I want to subdue outside influences so that they don’t enter and disturb the sanctity of my home. I also want to be able to transform my home into a warm place, a place of goodness, light, happiness, positivity and Godliness. A home isn’t just the walls and the furniture within. A home is the atmosphere and I have the power to form and transform it to be something positive and great.
I sat back, thoughtful. This is what the Ma’amer was telling me. The best part is that through me subduing and transforming my home that’s how I bring God into it in a way that He can be comfortable and call it His home as well.
I closed the book in satisfaction and stood up. I walked away, grinning; laughing at myself that I couldn’t help but think that green would be a good color for towels.