Lent

We are already in the second week of Lent. Right on cue, the Lenten Roses are blooming, time marches on and spring is appearing sporadically. One day it's here and the next we're plunged back into winter.

It's been a very sad time this past week, our dear daughter-in-law lost her precious mother to a horrible and aggressive brain tumor that appeared, so suddenly, just last summer. We will miss Phyllis terribly; she was a dear and accomplished woman, an always-cheerful friend to all and a wonderful, loving grandmother to our mutual grandchildren, Gregory and Lynnleigh. 💔 Thank you to all that have prayed for Phyllis. She is now in the loving arms of her creator. Gregory told me, just the night before she died, that he knew he would see her again and that she'd be well when that time came. Amen. I am strengthened by his faith. 

I have finished up the central portion of Sarah Barker and am moving on the border now. I have switched up the colors to my own liking and added a few elements. You can click on the hyperlink to see the original. 

I joined a fabric swap over at Red Rainboots Handmade and am currently participating in the Red, White and Blue "Sparklers" QAL. This one will be fun. Our daughter was a Bicentennial baby, born in July of 1976; this will be perfect for her, not only in celebration of her 50th but also in commemoration of America's Semiquincentennial.

As we continue through Lent and this in-between season of not winter anymore and not yet quite spring I wish you quiet times of prayer, peaceful reflection and sunshine to warm you. 

Life is Good!

If Your Life Were A Quilt...

...what would it look like?  Think about that for a second. Would it be bright all over or would it contain dark areas? Would it have mistakes, inconsistent stitches, small rips and tears that may have been mended (or not), star points missing here and there or would it be perfect? Would each block be similar or would there be variety? What would your life-as-a-quilt reveal?  I recently attended a memorial service for a friend's mother; her name was Zelma. My friend, Carla, is a fellow church member, the service was held in our church. Carla's Mom was a quilter, at age 97 she still stitched every single day, right up until she was hospitalized earlier this year. Carla told me that her Mom would rise in the morning and go straight away to her sewing machine, (like it was her job!) she'd piece quilt tops all day long. She donated countless quilt tops to charitable causes throughout her lifetime and, to this day, has left over 100 quilt tops stacked neatly in a cupboard outside of her bedroom. Our Pastor's memorial sermon has stayed with me. I share those words below, with his permission. It should be noted that this Memorial Service was held on National Quilting Day, I am sure that Zelma was smiling from her Heavenly home with that knowledge. 

Memorial Sermon

I perceived that there is nothing better for them than to be joyful

and to do good as long as they live; also that everyone should eat

and drink and take pleasure in all his toil—this is God's gift to man.

There’s a particular love that one knows when they receive a

handmade quilt from someone. Chances are, somewhere in our

homes tucked away in a closet, we all have a quilt we received a

long time ago from someone who made it for us out of love. And if

this quilt is handmade, we know it isn’t just something to keep us

warm, but it’s a treasured item, one that carries

memories-stitched together out of care for us.

Those who knew Zelma Rohde in her life with us know how much

she loved to quilt, a gift she has undoubtedly passed down to her

daughter Carla. And in this love of quilting, there’s so much we

can learn about Zelma’s life and the kind of person she is. To quilt

for someone is to labor in love and express....in precise,

hand-stitched detail...what that person means to you.

If the life of Zelma was sewn into a quilt and spread out before us,

what would we see? I imagine we would see something

resembling our first reading in Ecclesiastes: For everything there

is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.

Zelma’s life quilt would undoubtedly be large and thick, because

Zelma lived a long and full life with us. And now, as we look back

on this full life of Zelma, we can see all the times and seasons of

her life as one, beautiful, stitched-together masterpiece.

Zelma’s quilt begins with fabric of her time to be born, and today

we remember it has received its final stitch in her time to die.

But between the first and last stitch of a quilt, there is so much

that happens in between. In Zelma’s life, she had times to plant,

and times to pluck up what was planted.

It’s my understanding that along with quilting, Zelma was an avid

gardener. And I’ve learned that gardening can teach anyone who

puts effort into it important virtues...primarily patience. And from

this we know Zelma knew patience, when to reap the rewards of

her labor, and when to have just a little more patience to see her

projects through.

A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time

to build up.

If this life quilt of Zelma were honest, it wouldn’t shy away from

stitching together the difficult times and seasons. Seasons in

Zelma’s life when things were dark, when she needed her own

healing. But we would also see a rich tapestry of the seasons

when she was there to build someone up in love and

encouragement.

A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time

to dance.

When we remember the life of Zelma, it’s only natural to

remember both the times of joy and the times of hardship.

Memories of laughing with her, and maybe even weeping with her.

But like a quilt of many colors, those dark times bring out a

boldness in the bright colors of her laughter and joy. Because it is

in these times when we see the love of her Lord, Jesus Christ

most perfected in her.

A time to seek, and a time to lose; A time to keep, and a time to

cast away; A time to tear, and a time to sew.

The memory of Zelma full life, and the lives of all our faithfully

departed, cause us to reflect on our own, incomplete lives. Today,

we observe the life quilt of Zelma after receiving its final stitch, but

each of us have our own life quilts that are still being sewn and

stitched together. And one day, just like today for Zelma, those

closest to us will look back on all the stitches and fabrics of our

life.

At first, this might make us nervous to think about...every stitch?

What about the bad stitches in my life? What if there are fabrics in

my past that I’ve completely ruined?

Let us remember how Zelma sought to fix her stitches - through

the correcting, love of Jesus Christ, who has labored in love for us

and expressed....in precise, hand-stitched detail...what we mean

to Him upon the cross.

Zelma trusted Jesus to tear away the ruined fabric from her quilt

and sew back the perfect cloth of His righteousness. And now, by

faith in Him, Zelma lives on in His Resurrection from the dead.

In the same way, we can trust in Jesus to stitch His mercy in us in

those places we may need it most.

As we remember the life of Zelma, let us see her life as a quilt

God has stitched together out of love for us. Her life is one that

will always keep us warm in times of hardship, and it will always

carry memories stitched together by the grace of her maker and

Savior: Jesus Christ, her Lord, Amen.

- Reverend Matt Knuppel

Grace Lutheran Church

18 March 2023

And so, if YOUR life is arrayed to the world as a quilt, what will it reveal about you? I pray that my life's quilt will display rich, happy colors. I hope it will show that I gave good effort and always tried to do my best, that my life was one lived in faith; and, also, like Zelma, that I might rise and contentedly stitch for as long as I am physically able! 

What a precious, tangible, legacy that would be!

Life is Good!

A Thankful Heart

This was to be my month of thankfulness posts, and this one is being written with a deeply thankful heart for this dear and lovely woman; my precious mother-in-law. Mom slipped away quietly to join the church triumphant on Saturday afternoon with family surrounding her. She is at peace from the painful and frustrating days that she experienced over the past several months, enjoying long-awaited reunions with loved ones in her Heavenly home; for that we are joyful, we just weren't ready to let her go! Mom knew where she was going, there is no doubt, she was an exemplary model of faith. Oh, how we will miss her. Extended family is beginning to gather, in the next few days stories will be shared and photographs will be displayed of happy times spent with Mom over the years, I look forward to that. When I think about Mom from now on I will remember the lesson that she taught me best (besides how make a perfect pie crust): how to be a wonderful mother-in-law. She was always there when I needed her, I never needed to ask twice. She never intruded however, she celebrated all of our family occasions but was never "in" our business, not at all. She was cheerful, funny, supportive, and loving; in all things and at all times, she was my role model. She knew how much I loved her, I told her all the time, but I really don't know if she could ever fully understand the depth or sincerity of those proclamations. I'm not certain I understood the measure of her presence in my life, until now, it can only begin to be realized by the size of the hole in my heart. I love you, Mom, thank you.

Life is Good!

💗

On this, the twenty first day of November, 

I am thankful for the very best of all 

mothers-in-law. I have been richly blessed. 

Give It Away!

"Love in your heart wasn't put there to stay.  Love isn't love 'til you give it away."   - Oscar Hammerstein

Love; it's this weeks' Advent word. My husband and I walked into church yesterday morning to be greeted by a friend, she came right up to me with a sad look in her eye. "I have some bad news" she began, " it's really bad." I braced myself. She went on to tell us that our church's Parish Administrator had unexpectedly and suddenly died over the weekend. I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach, I certainly hadn't braced myself firmly enough to receive that tragic news! Phyllis, our efficient and always professional Parish Administrator could easily run our church office with one hand tied behind her back; she knew everything, every one, and kept it all straight. There was never any confusion as to where she stood or what was being handled, Phyllis was a straight shooter and a clear communicator. In every phone call, e-mail or face to face meeting that I had with her over the years I always came away feeling confident and reassured that whatever business we had spoken about was being tended to, and well. We became friends as time passed and we both became grandmothers, often chatting about the joys of grandchildren; and yet, Phyllis was always the consummate professional when it came to the church office. Late this past spring she was plagued with back pain and time after time had to postpone treatment because of some chronic breathing and pulmonary issues. At long last, about three weeks ago, she was deemed healthy enough to undergo back surgery and she came through that procedure with flying colors. Last Thursday I checked on her and learned that she had a Dr.'s appointment that afternoon and was doing fine. Her last Facebook status update, dated November 28, confirmed her now pain-free state and her desire to get back to work as soon as possible.

How was the news that I had just heard even possible? 

I sat in the sanctuary yesterday morning and tried to remember the last time I had seen Phyllis and spoken with her. All of a sudden the moment came flooding back, as clear as could be. We were standing in the hall outside the church offices, she was hurting and had come in to tend to busisness for as long as she could that day; she was eagerly looking forward to getting her surgery behind her. I told her that I would be praying for her. She started to walk away, turned back toward me and said "I love you." I echoed that sentiment right back to her, extremely uncharacteristic behavior; and yet, in that time and space it didn't seem unusual at all. I walked away feeling God's presence between us and surrounding us. I knew that she was going to be okay. This exchange haunted me yesterday, but in a very good way. I am so deeply thankful now that I expressed those words of love, I had no way of knowing then that they would be the very last words we'd ever speak to each other.

So, back to our Advent word of the week: love; don't hold it too tight. Remember the rhyme by Hammerstein, live it; your heart can't possibly hold onto all the love that you have. By all means... give it away; you will be so glad that you did!

Life is Good!

Table With A View

I met Clara in 2002, she had recently moved to town to be closer to her daughter; she joined our church, and our Quilt Ministry. She was 84 at the time. We became quick friends and, eventually, I began picking her up at her apartment, and taking her back home, on Thursdays for our weekly quilting sessions at church; I enjoyed those times and I believe that Clara did too. I learned a lot from Clara, especially not to count on spring arriving and staying even though the daffodils might be blooming.  "No, she'd explain, we've not been through Blackberry winter (or Dogwood winter or Redbud winter) yet, there's more cold yet to come" she would caution. One time she invited me to visit her so that she could show me her quilt collection. She had prepared delicious little orange cookies and sweet tea for us to enjoy while she entertained me with wonderful stories about growing up in Tennessee, and about being a schoolteacher there. She told me all about her husband and how he was paid in quilts for some sort of job he did when they were newlyweds and about the adventures that she and her husband had enjoyed while searching out antiques from estate sales all over the East coast after he had retired. They bought, and ultimately sold, specific antiques to customers who would use them in their homes or places of business; she loved the hunt, and the travel. She told me about a day that they had driven to Maine to pick up a load of items and, as was her habit, she had asked the man  ahead of time, over the phone, if he happened to have any pieces of certain antique china pattern. This was her own personal request; she some pieces from that collection and she wanted to complete her place settings. He told her that he did and she asked if he would lay them back for her. When they arrived at this man's place they made short work of loading up the goods that they had driven up there for and Clara inquired about the china. The man looked pleased with himself and asked them to follow him; he walked back behind his barn and started off across a field, they kept right up with him. Clara told me that she was somewhat perplexed until she looked off in the distance and caught sight of the most beautiful ocean view extending beneath the bluff where they stood; and there, right in front of them, was a table spread with a cloth and set with all of the dishes she'd ever imagined in that pattern!  She could scarcely believe the sight before her. When she told me the story her eyes sparkled and her face beamed with joy. She wanted very much to communicate the very same joy to me that she'd felt on that day; at that was she most successful! We laughed together when she related how, her husband realized he'd just met a very skilled salesman and had little other choice but to buy every bit of that china right then and there!

Clara's health began to fail a few years back; she no longer joined us at quilting; and, over time, I didn't see her anymore at church for worship. She passed away early last Friday morning. When I received the phonecall from a friend at church informing me of Clara's death all I could think about was that story of the china being set out on a table with an ocean view and Clara's beaming, joy-filled face. I know that is how she looks now, in His kingdom, free from pain and suffering and joined together once again with her beloved husband; I imagine that they're sitting together at a table... one with an absolutely spectacular view!

Life is Good!

Living In North Carolina

Andy Griffith and North Carolina are practically synonyms; it's difficult, if not impossible, to talk about one without mentioning the other. Whenever the subject rolls around to The Andy Griffith Show my friends and I always try and choose our favorite episode; that's another task that's nearly impossible, we can go on and on forever remembering... they're all good and they make you feel that same way too. A local channel carries The Andy Griffith Show every day at 5:30 PM; without a doubt, my favorite all-time show is the one entitled "Barney and The Choir",  episode #52. Recalling those good old days of mythical Mayberry is reliving everything that's happy about times gone by. North Carolina is a sadder place today, it's a little bit quieter and Mayberry is an emptier location now that Sheriff Taylor's gone. But, my friends and I will still remember, we'll think back and try to choose our favorite episode; it's all a part of living here.  Andy's gone but he'll never be forgotten; he is a part of North Carolina and the two cannot be separated, around these parts all roads lead to Mayberry.

Rest in peace, Andy~

Life is Good!

Prayers and Chicken Salad...

I flipped on the light over the kitchen sink in the predawn darkness and poured myself a cup of coffee. Retrieving the chicken from the refrigerator that I had cooked before I went to bed, I began chopping it up for salad. There was a funeral today and I was asked to bring a platter of sandwiches for the reception after the service. As I prepared sandwiches I prayed for his family and thought about our beloved Pastor T. He moved here in 1993, after he was retired, and became our Volunteer Pastor of Visitation. He was always cheerful and spry; and oh, how he loved to visit... he loved people, and they loved him! When my father-in-law died almost nine years ago he was the first one to the house to be with Mom, he was the face of Christ to her in those hours. He visited me after my surgery in May, 2005; he stood at the window of the hospital room and pointed out all the landmarks and gave me an impromptu history/geography lesson that morning. He died in the early morning hours of December 23, in his sleep. I learned today that it's precisely what he'd hoped for, what a blessing for him! I cut the crusts from the bread and layered the little sandwiches onto a platter. I prayed for peace and comfort for his immediate and extended family. I prayed too for my dear friend who instructed me in the fine art of finger-sandwich preparation for funeral receptions. She doesn't get out much anymore, the food-preparing torch has been passed from her generation, now, to mine. She told me, one day, which bread to buy and how it needed to be frozen so that the bread could be de-crusted and cut just so without falling apart. I did it exactly as she had taught me. (This isn't my platter pictured; it came from Google images.) I gathered up all the bread trimmings, cubed them, and tossed them with a little butter and seasoned salt and baked them in a slow oven; et voila, croutons! (She never told me to do that, I thought it up on my own, but I believe she'd think it's a clever idea.) The funeral was one of the most beautiful I have ever attended, the Chrismon trees were still in the chancel and poinsettias lined the steps. The aisle candles were lit as well as the Advent wreath and Christ candle. What a glorious time of year to be called Home, thanks be to God! I came back to our house today filled with mixed emotions, both sad (for the earthly loss) and happy (for Heaven's gain) at the same time. What a day, one that began (and most likely will conclude!) with prayers and chicken salad (I had a LOT left over...).

Life is Good!

November's Gift, God's Timing

An unexpectedly warm, almost summer-like, day yesterday turned out to be just the gift I needed. I spent the afternoon planting pots full of Pansies on the patio and porches. (Actually, I briefly considered offering the flowers directly to the squirrels, saving me time and potting soil; but, ever the optimist, I planted them anyway... we'll see what happens.) I am woefully behind this year, normally I have the summer annuals cleaned out and the fall pots done by mid-October. Thankfully, the nursery still had inventory and yesterday's potting turned into today's rain; absolutely perfect timing! God's timing is always that; and yet, I am struggling to understand the recent untimely death of a family friend. I prepared food to take to the family as I prayed for peace and comfort through these painfully difficult days. He leaves behind a devastated family, young children, and hundreds upon hundreds of stunned and saddened friends. God has called him home, He has prepared a place for him; His is the victory! Our gift is that sure and certain reassurance, the knowledge through faith, that God's timing (though sometimes mysterious) is always perfect.

"I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself,

that where I am, there you may be also". John 14:3

Life is Good!