When my husband and I were engaged, we did not touch and we were never alone. The slightest brush, a tap of the foot under the table, were cherished and remembered with delight. In the absence of physical contact, we learned to communicate. We became the best of friends, able to share anything. Doug called me every Wednesday and we talked for four hours. On our wedding day, we held hands and hugged and kissed for the first time. There are no words to describe it!
Now, as we observe the niddah laws, we find ourselves in a similar position. We have created little rituals, like Doug calling me “niddah” for a week each month. When we all say goodbye to daddy when he leaves for work, he kisses Noah and Noah kisses me. We do not touch or sit in the same chair for a week. (or longer under special circumstances) We talk. We share. We commune. We try to connect our souls when our hands cannot reach out. We daydream and count the days until “niddah” leaves. That first touch, that sweet kiss after a week takes us back to that moment on our wedding day. We think inside, “Are you sure it’s okay?” I smile as I remember looking in the backseat of the car for my sister when we left on our honeymoon, because she had always been there before. It is the separation for a time that makes the reunion so sweet. It is the removal of the physical for a time that knits the souls together tighter.
Niddah’s visits are often hard. It is no fun to be denied access to the one person that you have chosen above all others. It is hard to not be able to get a hug when you want one. It is easy to think it my right to do as I please since I have this ring on my finger. But I was never promised unlimited access. YHVH, in His incredible wisdom, knows much more about marriage than I do. He knows what a healthy relationship looks like. He understands the implications of even the tiniest things. I dare not make demands or question His commands. I am asked simply to obey and trust. I have to remind myself of this when “niddah” stays for an extended visit. I must remember that “this too shall pass.” And when “niddah” leaves at last, the joy of reunion is all the greater.
I am reminded that I am bride to another. The bridegroom, Yahshua HaMashiach, is not here physically present with us. We are “niddah.” We cannot touch or hug Him. We cannot feel His comforting hands. Yet, we can commune with Him. We can speak of anything with Him. He is anxious to hear and speak with us in return. We await the day when our separation will be no more. The joy of our reunion will be all the sweeter because of the separation. It is hard to be apart, but “this too shall pass.”
Niddah has many lessons to teach us, one of which is the beauty of reunion after physical separation.
Please be sure to read Practical niddah, to see how our understanding of the practical aspects of niddah have changed since I wrote this.
What have you learned from niddah?
