Shabbat Shalom....

Last night I returned home to find that my dogs had found the tray of chicken I had sitting on the counter waiting to pop in the oven for dinner.What was once 2 whole chickens was now a basically lunch for 2,which would have been fine if I wasn't expecting 7 for dinner.
I was furious!
I yelled at them,stomped around a bit ,flailed my arms in rage and told them I hoped they choke to death on the bones.
Obviously this was an inappropriate and disproportionate response. 
Besides,who was I really mad at?
The dogs? 
They were doing what dogs do. It smelled good....let's eat it!
No I was mad at myself. I really should have known better than to leave the house with such a great temptation so conveniently accessible. 
I was also annoyed that my carefully laid out plans had now been uprooted. The most tranquil and enjoyable part of my week,Shabbat dinner with my family, had been compromised in my eyes.
20 minutes and $30 later I had managed to reconstruct what a short while earlier seemed to have been destroyed.
So what was the big deal?
Why did I become so upset?
What was the reason for this disproportionate over the top reaction that I had to what in hindsight was actually a pretty humorous event?
I wish I had an answer.
Maybe it is because it was Shabbat dinner, the one time during the week where I can provide for and spend time with those who I love the most.
Friday night dinner,in my house,at my table,prepared by me,with thought , love,care and kindness.
And just like that,it felt as if it had been stolen from me. 
I felt violated.
I felt threatened.
And I did not want to let my loved ones down.
The truth is, if I had ordered in a couple of pizzas,no one would have cared.
No one that is except for me.
This may seem like a simple story. I think there is a whole lot more behind it. 
What is with this need I have to be the provider?
What is so important about feeding my flock?
(Did I just call them my flock?)
Why is it so important for me to create this weekly moment in time where the only thing that matters is the group who sits and eats together once a week on Friday night?
Every week,we come together and before we eat,we say kiddush (the prayer over the wine) and ha motzi (the prayer over the bread) and Susan lights the Shabbat candles for which there is also a prayer.
Each of these prayers starts with the same Hebrew word ....Baruch.
Baruch....simply meaning blessed.
And there it is!
It is in that moment,on a weekly basis,the one time that without exception,that  I understand just how truly blessed I am.
Shabbat Shalom!