Reflection on Sukkot – “Under His Sukkah”

This year’s Feast of Sukkot reminded us once again how Yah invites His people to step away from the routine, slow down, and dwell under His covering — literally and spiritually. It’s a time to rest in His provision, not our own.

As Jake shared, Sukkot tends to come with the same rhythm each year: camping gear, family time, Scripture readings, good food, and projects that bring everyone together. Their family’s “tent town” reflected that ancient call to live simply, together, under temporary shelters — just like our forefathers. Listening to dramatized Torah readings, journaling, and spending time outdoors helped anchor the week in both joy and reflection.

Matt’s family took a similar approach — focusing on gifts of the hands and heart. Each member made something homemade: pickled peppers, bread, cookies, pimento cheese, and custom mugs. It wasn’t about consumerism or extravagance, but about creativity, gratitude, and togetherness — all rooted in the idea of dwelling in Yah’s provision. The new Jackson Trail Farm website became a digital sukkah of sorts — a shared family space for growth, stories, and heritage.

Both families noticed that even when people don’t know about Sukkot, they naturally gravitate toward something like it. Whether it’s church “harvest festivals,” “man camps,” or the local county fair, there’s something deep inside people that longs for a season of gathering, camping, and celebrating provision. It’s as if Yah planted this rhythm into the human heart — we just need to rediscover its biblical form.

Digging into the Hebrew roots of סֻכּוֹת (Sukkot) revealed even more: the idea of a “woven hedge,” “covering,” or “protection.” This connects powerfully to the themes of Yah’s shelter, His anointing, and His defense around His people. Passages like Jeremiah 35, Job 1:10, Hosea 2, and Ruth 3 highlight that divine hedge — a reminder that our tents may be fragile, but His protection is not.

In the end, Sukkot isn’t just camping — it’s a physical reminder of dependence. Like the birds who don’t worry about tomorrow, we learn to let go of the illusion that our hands provide everything. For one week, we come out of our comfortable homes, sleep under a sky He made, and remember: He covers us. He provides. He sustains.

And yes — it might be hot, full of stickers, and require a lot of cleanup… but every year, we leave refreshed, re-centered, and ready to live in His joy again.