Seam ripper and stitches...

Recently, a friend asked me if I could turn an old bridesmaids dress into a baby quilt for her friend. Once it was completed, only the rouged bodice included on the back gave away the fabric's former purpose.

At the beginning of the project, I sat with the dress and all the other fabric laid out in front of me, envisioning the final product and making a plan on how to get there. Once I sketched it out and knew what was needed, I set about deconstructing the dress. My girls kept saying, "You're going to cut up this beautiful dress?!!" And while it was true I was going to cut it up, first I needed a tool other than scissors. I needed this...

We turned on a show and I started picking stitches with my trusty, small seam-ripper. When the show was done, the girls wanted to know why the dress wasn't cut up yet. "Mom, did you get distracted by the show?!"

I was quite pleased with my progress as I had separated the bodice and the lining and made the skirt lay open. Apparently, they were expecting quilt pieces to already be cut. I tried to explain the steps I needed to do first and they quickly said, "That's a lot of steps. Can we go play?!" I had to chuckle at the truth in their comment. It was a lot of admittedly tedious steps. And while removing a stitch at a time seemed so tiny to them, each one felt like a major stride in the project. The stitches gave the dress its form and each one I took away was a step toward allowing that form to change. Yet, taking them out one by one also ensured the material was usable for a new purpose.

We are not unlike a sewing project. Each person walking this earth has experiences in life that become the narratives that drive us. These narratives (or stitches, if you will) become the way we view life, relationships, parenting, success, failure, and the Lord. These stitches help form us.

Our stitches are made by the family that raised us, the way we were educated, the country we live in, the jobs we have held, and the experiences life has brought us. For better or worse, all of these help to form us. Some will speak life and truth over our lives and some will plant doubts, falsehoods, and lies. In my experience, some stitches are more fundamental than others. Like the dress, the stitches holding the lining to the dress were less pivotal than the stitches constructing the bodice. The impact of having or removing each was vastly different.

In my opinion, the stitches we hold about who God is are fundamental--the bodice of our lives. We all have different impressions and experiences with God. We all heard about him the first time in a different way. Perhaps by a relative who we only saw once a year but always said "Jesus loves you, and so do I." Maybe it was Vacation Bible School as a kid, or a summer camp?! Maybe you learned of God as a small child having attended church since you were a newborn. Maybe you never heard about God until you were older. Maybe as an adult, we still view him through our child eyes. It wasn't wrong the way we saw him as a child but our view of him hasn't grown and there is a vastness of God we need to see more fully. And what's more, some of our exposures accurately reflect God's true nature and some do not. Nevertheless, these stitches help form us.

God takes his proverbial seam ripper to gently undo these false narratives one stitch at a time. For a while, we can still see the stitch marks but over time, they smooth out and are no longer discernible--the old narrative has been replaced with TRUTH. The process takes various lengths of time but every step of the process is God working to make us new. This is the process of sanctification. Remember the bridesmaids dress? It wasn't huge cuts that transformed it, but taking out the stitches one by one to completely alter the form it once held, while also not destroying it. 

I get so frustrated with myself when I fall back into old habits or false beliefs about who God is. Like thinking he is an ominous father that is looking for me to mess up so he can reprimand me. Or that there is a list of things I need to check off daily to be loved by God. Or that having the normal range of human emotions means I don't have enough faith. Or that struggling with anxiety and depression means I'm a bad believer. Or that not having the same convictions as other believers means I am not hearing God. Or here is a big one: when I glean a new level of understanding about a passage in the bible and feel so dumb for not having understood it previously. Each of these is a stitch God has removed; and sometimes I focus on the old stitch holes still visible in my fabric rather than the new form God is creating. 

The process is hard--how many conversations do we have in our marriages or with our kids that employ old habits that aren't working. But each time we notice, correct, and step back just a little bit sooner, this is success. This is continuing to try. This is the sanctifying work of the Lord. I heard somewhere that people don't respond to situations based on what is happening now but based on their experiences preceding the current situation. So when I react to what is occurring before me, it is more a result of my stitches acting as a lens in viewing this situation. When I can surrender to the new form God is creating, and let go of those stitch marks, the way I react to situations inherently will change, too.

The reality of the cross is that without it, I was dead from sin. Jesus' death paid a price I could never pay so God would see me as righteous. Acknowledging this is monumental in the life of each believer. And God loves us too much to have that be the end. We can come to him as a decade old bridesmaids dress, tattered rags, or anything in between and trust that we are LOVED and Jesus died for us. And we can know that God wants to make something new. He has a process and his seamripper is hard and better than that, He knows exactly when and how to remove our stitches so we will not be destroyed but rather prepared for our new form. 

PS-Speaking of stitches that formed us, the show "Friends" was HUGE when I was in high school and college. In writing this post, I couldn't help but hear the line from the pilot episode "What if your whole life everyone's been telling you 'you're a shoe, you're a shoe, you're a shoe.' What if I don't want to be a shoe. Maybe I want to be a purse, or a hat?! No, I don't want you to buy me a hat, I'm saying that I am a hat! It's a metaphor!!" Here's to the sanctifying power of the Lord making each of us into a new quilt, hat, purse, or shoe. 

a BLOOM at REST

When I determined my word for 2020, I had no way of knowing how much REST would be forced upon us several weeks later. And truly, one thing I have learned is how terrible I am at resting.

Really. Like no good at resting at all.

We have all the time in the world to color or do a puzzle and I find myself folding towels between coloring assignments.

Or I realize that while we are watching a movie together I am really doing something on my computer since everyone is in a TV trance. So it's not really rest as much as it is filling my time with different things than I did before.

Just before all the social distancing and quarantine realities came to be, Paul and I escaped away to Fredricksburg to celebrate our 10th anniversary. We stayed at an adorable B&B nestled just enough off the beaten path to feel remote, yet close enough to town for a late night popcorn run to go with our DVD.

We survived, ahem....got to enjoy Enchanted Rock (more on that adventure coming in another post). We enjoyed breakfast on the porch watching birds at the bird feeders while we sipped on tea and coffee. We took a walk down a country road and saw longhorns grazing, cardinals flitting about, and picturesque Texas fields sprinkled with the first bluebonnets of the season and other wildflowers. It truly was a weekend of REST for which we will always be grateful. And it was also a weekend of unknowns as the information was changing by the hour.

There were times in my rest I was wracked with guilt that my mind was racing or consumed with processing the new information. I looked up the definition of rest and it provided some wonderful food for thought...

rest (verb)
1. cease work or movement in order to relax, refresh oneself, or recover strength
2. be placed or supported so as to stay in a specified position
3. be based on or grounded in; depend on

Most words have multiple meanings and while sometimes more than one can be true simultaneously, not all have to be true simultaneously. As I read over these, the first one is how I would have defined rest if asked. An image of a weekend away in the country, nightly bubble baths and chick flicks, sleeping in, and enjoying a leisurely breakfast before taking a long walk. But the second and third ones really resonated with me; rest can't only be reserved for weekends away, right?!

It was in combining the second and third definition that I was really struck. Be placed or supported so as to stay in a specified position and be based on or grounded in; depend on. I believe God is sovereign over this world and that includes my life. I have walked roads and situations I would never have chosen were it up to me. Sometimes I pray for God to change a situation or circumstance and He almost always seems to do this on a different timetable than I would prefer. But He has always been faithful to remain with me in my asking.

The seasons when I have be digging into the word faithfully have not yielded shorter struggles, but being grounded in the word and depending on God more fully has given me a different vantage point in the struggle. Even in my deep desire to have a situation change, I can more easily appreciate how much God has placed me and is actively supporting me in the specified position He has ordained.

This is a whole new way for me to view rest. Don't get me wrong, I want the B&B getaway with the bubble baths and movies! And I also don't want to put off rest for those infrequent getaways. And I don't want my kids to think rest can't happen if they are around; I want them to know how to build it into their lives as well. I want them to realize that rest can be a wonderfully relaxing getaway and a way to live everyday.

So how does that really look? I mean, I have been in my bible more since this season of social distancing began. And I also feel like, while a lot of work has ceased, a whole new hustle and bustle has been ushered into our lives. What does rest look like when there is uncertainty at every turn?

God answered this one morning just outside my window.....

The very image of blooming rest!!

As the sun was coming up, I saw it. This beautiful illustration of blooming rest. This rose bush was gifted to us when we moved in and I planted it in the back yard. I have literally done nothing to help this plant thrive or even survive and yet every year we are blessed by more and more beautiful pink blossoms. It is not standing in protest refusing to bloom because I am not pampering it with rose specific soil and making sure it is sufficiently watered. It is thriving in the situation in which it has been placed.

This particular morning, it had rained big ol' fat pouring rain overnight and into the wee morning hours. We often view rain as a negative thing but in a situation where no one else is watering it, this rose no doubt appreciated the life-giving nourishment the rain brought. But then, did you see it??!! Did you see how surrendered that rose is?!! Look again, if you look closely it's there in all its overwhelming beauty. After pouring rain, thunder, lightening, and wind this rose sat still in the calm acceptance that this storm was ultimately for its own good. It sat completely surrendered in the rest of raindrops. So surrendered that the rain rested on the bloom without moving.

The very next day, the view out my window looked a bit different.

In just 24 hours, that rose had used each and every raindrop to help it bloom into this stunning flower. And then my eye noticed the closed blossom. The day before, it had perfectly balanced raindrops, too. And yet today it remained unchanged. But maybe this wasn't the storm it needed to bloom. It didn't wither and die because another rose bloomed first. Those nourishing raindrops fed it, too, just in less obvious but still necessary ways. The large, blossomed rose isn't putting the small bud in its shadow out of pride or anxiously wondering if it bloomed too soon. Instead it is standing next to it in support knowing it will bloom, too.

Often, I'm the first rose. Covered in raindrops from a storm. But rather than sitting in surrender; resting in God's provision, I'm shaking off the water trying to speed up the blooming or pretend I wasn't impacted by the storm. Or perhaps I'm stomping my feet repeatedly asking what the purpose of that storm was?!

While I may not be very good at rest, I'm trying to be better. I'm trying to be the rose that isn't concerned with others (either those who are further along or behind me). I'm trying to embrace the rain and its purpose. I'm trying to carve out time for things that fill my cup and bring the peace. More than anything I'm trying to focus on and trust where God has placed me and that he is actively supporting me in this specified position.