Behind the machine

True story!  I may have bitten off a bit more than I can chew.  My original thought is that I needed to practice diligence instead of procrastination.  I'm being diligent, but it is hard.  Really, really hard.  So as I sew along on the many Christmas projects I have decided HAVE to be done by Christmas for gifts, it came to me that marriage is pretty much like making a quilt.  

First of all, you start out all fresh and new, just like brand new fabric, fresh off the bolt, not yet unfolded from the time you bought it.  When you begin to grow and mature, you get rearranged into patterns.  You know, personality traits, life experiences; those types of things.  And then you are all put together.  You have life by the tail.  You are young, busy, working your way up the ladder.  Soon, though, you get married.  And you add layers to your life.  You add someone's history and your history and you stitch them together with the life experiences you share as a married couple.

As I quilt on my machine, I like to pray for whomever gets to enjoy this quilt.  Today as I traced the lines and stitched the quilt together, I thought of my own married life.  When you first load a quilt on the machine, you have to stitch along the sides.  I thought of that as the line that is drawn when we married.  A fresh new start.  Brand new quilting stitches.  When I move on to stitch the pattern, it is shaky at first.  It usually is, until I warm up.  Then I get to going along pretty good.  Sometimes I'm really good at following the line, and sometimes I stray off.  How often I stray off God's path in my own life, not to mention straying off on my own in my marriage.  I'm really glad that God is forgiving and gentle to guide me back to where I need to be.  

There are many twists and turns . . . sometimes we get lost.  I got lost twice on this quilt.  Sheesh, that means I have to back up, stitching all the way.  I like to leave those in the quilt, though.  No one's perfect, after all.  And I'm off again, stitching merrily away until there's a POP.  Suddenly, not everything is working well.  The thread broke.  Ugh.  All quilting comes to a standstill until things get back on track.  Yeah, been there done that in my marriage.  We have an issue.  There is some intense fellowship (that's a new phrase I heard recently and it's my new favorite!!), we take a rest, refill, have more conversation, a lot less intense this time, get back on the same page and carry on with life.  On the quilt, I will take out the empty bobbin, fill it up and put it back in the machine.  Then I will take a couple of stitches out, fix the thread and start sewing again.  At the end of the row, it's like the end of a season.  Sometimes I just get to go back and repeat the pattern without moving the quilt (rolling it up).  But most of the time, I have to move the quilt.  Everything stops.  The machine gets moved out of the way and I focus totally on moving the quilt, lining everything up and securing it to work on the next row.  In life, at the end of a row, there's usually a new season where I have to grow, stretch, relax, line back up and secure my heart to work on what I have learned.

In a quilt there are many seams, lots of threads, lots of different shapes, sizes and combinations.  In a marriage there are many choices held together by lots of experiences of all kinds.  Both are held together by prayer, love, patience, thoughtfulness and care.

And that's my view from the needle today . . .

I am NEVER alone

There is a fracture in my family.  It started about four years ago.  It began relatively small, like most cracks, and has now swelled into an almost complete severing of the relationship.  Some days I manage fairly well.  I can pull off an "I'm doing peachy" with the best of them.  I can stuff the sadness, the despair, the hopelessness down beneath the surface and function just like anyone else.  Other days I feel as though I am in the deepest, darkest pit that's in the deepest, darkest cave you can imagine.  Hope of any kind becomes a dream that flickers far outside my reach.  I hear nothing but the hurtful words that have been exchanged.  I see nothing but darkness, fear and anger.  I feel nothing but numbing loneliness.   

In the past few weeks I have been compelled to establish boundaries.  In doing so, I have had to examine my life, focusing mainly on these last four years of it.  What I have learned is that I have been on an incredible journey for much longer than that and it is only because of where I am today and the relationship I try to have with God, by His grace and mercy, that I can see His hand on my life.  He has been comforting, supporting, providing, healing, teaching, forgiving and, perhaps more important to me, loving me even though I have been pretty ugly and unlovable.  I have been blessed in this difficult time with some friends that I can only say have been handpicked by God Himself.    They have encouraged me to pray and listen.  I learned from one to have a playlist available on my phone so when the darkness starts to encroach on me, I reach for the music that helps me to refocus on God.  In the music and those words, I find prayers that I am unable to speak and I find promises that I am loved and not alone.  I learned from another, lovingly, that I have to look at myself, me, and address those things that are causing me to look away from God instead of towards Him.  Another friend refuses to allow me to wallow and stays in touch to be sure I am moving forward.  And still another encourages authenticity, which is probably why I am talking to you today.  These friends have been exactly what I have needed, at the times I have needed them.  God has been so faithful.

I can look back a little farther and see, again, that God's hand has been on my life even when I wasn't making Him a priority.   My children all have become productive members of society and are some pretty cool adults.  My marriage is God-centered and thriving, which is a miracle in itself.  I have a husband who has stood by me through all the good times and the bad times, honoring and loving me, in spite of myself.  I have a wonderful church, pastor and ministries that I am humbled and honored to be part of.  I have a beautiful home to share with family and friends.  Throughout my adult life, I've walked some difficult paths.  I have had to learn many, many times to leave something, or someone, at the cross.  I have learned as well to wait on the Lord and His timing.  Each and every difficult time, I learned to pray and listen to Him a little bit more.  Interestingly enough, the more I pray the better I hear. 

God hasn't failed to bless me.  So as I am walking yet another valley of this incredible journey, I know, without a doubt, that He is there.  He's already been there.  And He'll be there when I get through it.  I have no idea what His plan for this relationship is.  I have my own hopes, dreams and desires for it, yet I pray God's will be done, not mine.  I have incredible peace knowing that God has this relationship in His hands, I can let go.  I have experienced His comfort in the past.  I know He is there for me now and that He will be there for whatever I walk through in the future.  He never said it would be easy, but He did say we wouldn't go alone.  And I haven't walked alone for even one second of any of my journey.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qVYRc7LtvUA

Coming Home

I've been on vacation for 11 days . . . technically, two weeks.  I think I took a couple extra days ahead of when we actually left for vacation.  But that's allowed, right?

We had a great time.  I love spending time with my husband.  He is . . . amazing.  I know everyone's husband is amazing, and I don't doubt you one bit.  But my husband -- he KNOWS me.  He LOVES me.  And he is willing to drop everything to CARE for me.  I have THE. BEST. HUSBAND.  

So, off we went.  We spent four days on an island.  Then we spend seven days on a cruise where we went to five different ports of call and enjoyed each and every one of them for their different gifts.  And while I was gone, I no longer had a hitch in my lungs.  I was able to take a deep breath, relax from the inside out, and just totally let go of what life . . . what reality . . . is like here at home.

On the one hand, home is where you hang your hat, right?  It's supposed to be where you are comfortable, relaxed and at ease.  In my world -- home is where reality hits close to your heart.  Where you, when away from home can let it go, but here, you have to put on all the armor it takes to function.  You shed those things when you are on vacation.  You can take a deep breath.  You can relax.  You can be who you are, 100%, and not worry about what people think.  Those were gifts . . . little moments in time when it didn't matter that I wasn't the daughter I was supposed to be.  I wasn't the mom.  I WAS, however, a person.  A person that gets the benefit of the doubt.  A person that can just BE and not worry about anything.  I was gifted with those moments of BEING.  

Those moments of BEING came when we left port in San Juan, Puerto Rico.  The ropes holding the (ginormous) boat were released and we were sent into the ocean.  I know we were never adrift, but the feeling of NOT BEING TIED to anything was so freeing to me.  I was able to be me.  Me, whose actions were yet, unjudged.  I liked that feeling.  That feeling of being unjudged.  I wish that I could hold onto that feeling forever.  It didn't matter.  You could be whoever you wanted . . . a model, a doctor, a nurse . . .whoever you WERE, it DIDN'T MATTER.  And here, well, here, you got me at face value.  At your first impression.  But I wasn't there for you.  I wasn't there for what YOU thought of me.  I was there to let go.  To let everything in my normal, reality world, just let go.  Oh my goodness.  How good that felt.  I was there.  For me. . . .

So anyway, coming home is hard.  The closer you get to your own borders, the tighter that judgment feels.  The more you wish you had done what other people think.  The tighter that band around your lungs feels.  That hitch returns.  But before I left, God reminded me to tell Him that I trusted HIM.  That in all things, I trusted HIM to be in control.  Welcome home should mean:  Welcome back to My hugs, My warmth and My care.  I love you anyway.  And I will take care of you.  No matter what you bring to Me, I will take care of you.