We are a quilt-loving family. My Granny loved to sew and we have an
abundance of them.
No really…
This is my formal
dining room armoire where normal people would store fine china…
I keep a stash
of a dozen or so quilts here for easy access on family television night.
(There are only four of us, mind you.)
But seriously…upstairs, downstairs, in practically every
room and on every bed, you will find quilts.
We are a “comfy-casual” family and it is common to see a child
walking around the house with a quilt slung over their shoulders, wrapping
themselves in softness.
Actually, now that I think about it, we may have a slight obsession with quilts.
Don’t tell me your bookshelves aren't crammed with another 10 quilts. It’s normal, right? What is better than grabbing a book and a
quilt (or three) and snuggling down somewhere cozy for a nice long read?
I love the texture and patterns of quilts. Some in my collection have scraps of material
that I recognize from outfits my granny sewed for us grandkids (all four of us
girls until a decade after my birth brought about her first and only
grandson). Holding a quilt is like
looking back in time and remembering my childhood. I like to rub my fingers across the
seams. Some were hand quilted by my
beloved Granny and many were machine sewn (or the quilting was hired out as she
became too old to see well and arthritis began to cripple her hands). Each
quilt holds special memories for me. My Granny was one of my confidants in life. She knew more truths about my life than
most. We shared long talks and several
secrets. She loved me unconditionally
and I loved her deeply. She was ornery
and she had a wonderful sense of humor.
I miss her and think of her often.
She passed away last year while I was with Tim in Houston preparing for
radiation treatments. I wasn’t able to
be with her when she left this earth, but I know she knew the depths of my love
and respect for her. And now, as I curl
up in one of the quilts, knowing that her hands have touched and created each
seam…I feel comfort.
This is me with Granny.
Last Christmas, there was a very real possibility that my
husband would not be celebrating with us.
I desperately wanted our children to have gifts from their father under
the tree. Not just a gift “tagged” from
him, but something more personal.
Something they could physically cling to in the years to come. And so, typical to my nature, I began
planning ahead, sorting through Tim’s closet last summer and pulling shirts that
had special memories or meanings to us.
I delivered these shirts to my mom and asked her to make them into a quilt
for each of the kids.
And on Christmas morning, I was blessed beyond measure to
witness these exchanges between our precious children and my amazing husband.
God is
always at work in our lives.
He uses our past and our present to prepare us for our future. He places special people in our lives to help us navigate the difficult times and celebrate the good seasons with. In this analogy, I view God as the sewer, carefully selecting each cloth to bind together. I view Jesus as the threads that hold each cloth tightly to one another. And I view the individual strips of cloth as friends, family and experiences that have shaped us into who we each are today.
What a beautiful quilted story my life has been because God chose to join me together with my parents and siblings and eventually my husband and own children. And what a blessing each and every friend (new and old) has been as they have surrounded and supported us during these past 20 months. God promises to make beauty from ashes, and I dare say that He already has begun the process. He is good and I am blessed.
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