Monday, April 13, 2015

Sewing Perfection

   For the past few months I have begun thinking about blogging again (especially around 3:00 AM when it seems a good outlet for a busy brain), and since my sweet man is out at a Ranger's game, and I'm already a week behind with The Voice, tonight seems as good a night as any to restart.

   About 5 years ago, I received my grandmother's sewing box and some quilting squares which my grandmother had hand-stitched. They were brightly colored flowers, with happy yellow centers. I don't know anything about quilting, but I thought surely I could figure out something to do with these. They have sat untouched for 5 years in the metal tin in which they came. I've often opened the tin, looked at the squares, thought about piecing them together, and then closed the tin.
   I think I was afraid of messing up her work. She had already measured and cut every square (my absolute least favorite part of any sewing craft), cut, and stitched every petal, and lovingly stored them until she was ready to begin her quilt. I think I feared taking her quality work and turning it into an unacceptable attempt at being crafty.

   My grandmother went to be with Jesus this past Thanksgiving. I'm not sure why I decided today was the day to brave the task of working with her quilting squares, but I did. I placed the squares all neatly on the floor, and I began assembling a quilt for Emma Jane. As I set them out, I quickly realized something incredibly liberating: my grandmother's squares were not perfect squares. In fact, some of them were hardly squares at all... more like curvy rectangles. Okay, they weren't that bad, but when it came to pinning them together, there were obvious differences in the lengths of the sides, and for some reason, this helped me feel like I could start a quilt. Through the slight imperfections I found in my grandmother's work, I felt like perhaps I had something to bring to the table. Her imperfect work was beautiful; perhaps my attempts could be as well.

   I find relief remembering my grandmother was not perfect, but she now is. I don't know why I let perfection intimidate me when I have clearly seen how the Lord has worked through my weaknesses. "But He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness." Therefore, I will most gladly boast all the more about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may reside in me. So I take pleasure in weaknesses, insults, catastrophes, persecutions, and in pressures, because of Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong." 2 Corinthians 12:9-11
Here's to embracing my weaknesses one stitch at a time!

Hugs and Blessings!



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