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Some People Are Great Starters…

6:40 pm By

I am a great starter.

I love the excitement, the energy, the optimism of starting something new. I dive in with gusto, make super-human progress for the first few days, and then somewhere in the guts of the project, get bogged down, and lay it aside. That’s when I lose steam. What was supposed to be a short little break becomes months… or even years.

I am not a good finisher.

Take the guest-room quilt project, for example.

Once upon a time, several years ago, we only had two children and lived in a three-bedroom house. The two children shared a room so we could provide a guest room, a real bed, and some privacy for our parents when they visited (which happened often as our oldest was frequently in the hospital).

Somehow I decided (I have no idea how) that I had the time and energy to make a quilt for the guest room. It was color-coordinated with the paint and everything. With all the fervent starting-a-project energy, I cut all the pieces, pieced all the blocks, and began sewing blocks into strips.

Then something happened. I don’t even remember what — it’s been that long. But I put the quilt away… and never got it back out. We had a baby, sold the guest bed, sold the house, moved, had another baby, and through it all, the quilt sat in a bag at the bottom of a craft bin.

Where it sits today. And unfortunately, it will languish there awhile longer.

Why? Because I just dove into a New! Exciting! Quilt! Project! This one has a deadline (this is a key element to my finishing anything. See… I am learning a little as I get older.) — my daughter’s birthday next spring. You have permission to keep me accountable. I cut all the pieces out last Friday, and hope to begin sewing it together tomorrow.

Now that you know this history, it gives me great pleasure to present to you…

Christmas tree with skirt beneat

This Actual! Finished! Christmas Tree Skirt!

It has been in the works for *cough* three years *cough*.

I found all the pieces last week, and with all the enthusiasm of someone with a brand-new project to start, plowed through the last remaining steps. And now it’s done! Tra-la-la-laaaaah!

Christmas tree skirt

What about you? Do you follow through on projects, or are you a great starter like me? What’s the longest it’s taken you to finish something? (Please tell me I’m not alone.)

Filed UnderAt Home, Sewing 6 Comments

Sometimes Gratitude Hurts

10:00 am By

Have you ever tried to be thankful in the midst of grief?

It hurts.

When you stand, face grief and loss head-on, and say “I chose to find something in this to be thankful for,” the pain is physical, visceral, wrenching.

Looking back, what I’m most thankful for this year is that it’s over. 2010 has been a year of extremely low lows. Of painful failures as a wife and mother. Of faith torn apart, picked over, and slowly rebuilt (not completed, either). Thankfully, we’re near the end and nearing a new beginning.

Each year on Thanksgiving, my family writes thanksgiving lists. My parents have kept our lists over the years, and reading those oldies is always entertaining. It was fun, when I was young and life was easy.

This year, our children were old enough to write their own lists. Helping them gave me time to think about mine. Our older son took awhile to warm up to the idea, but once he got started made it a contest to list the most. Our daughter is just learning to write, so her list was short and sweet. The youngest illustrated his and told me what each scribbled represented. I confess to an actual warm fuzzy when all three kids listed “mom and dad” and their siblings on their own, without any prompting.

Then I sat facing my empty paper. Last I wrote a list like this was just five weeks after our daughter died.

The pain and difficulty isn’t that I come up empty-handed when I look for gratitude. I have much and thank God for it.

Even our daughter. She was expected to live four days. She lived 8 years and 8 months.

The pain is in the looking, in the deliberate choosing to be grateful, to write it where we can all see it, to fight against evil. It is shaking a fist at suffering and clinging to hope. It is resisting what can appear to be an overpowering opponent. And in battles, we experience pain.

I shouldn’t be surprised that the fight springs tears. That my heart hesitates to engage, that my flesh would rather hide from the battle. David knew this.

My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
But as for me, it is good to be near God.
I have made the Sovereign LORD my refuge;
I will tell of all your deeds.
(Psalm 73:26, 28)

But David fought. And he wrestled for hope by remembering what God had done. He wrote and sang his thanks as he faced deadly enemies and crushing discouragement.

So this Thanksgiving, I’m joining in Multitude Monday, a community who choose to fight evil with gratitude.

1. A God who gives us strength to fight against evil, for joy.

2. Grace – undeserved second chances (and third, and fourth, and seventy-times-seven)

3. my husband, faithful through the worst circumstances

4. Ellie and the 8 years 8 months she spent with us

5. My son and his willingness to say “I wanted to say ‘soft answer’ to you this morning, Mommy” — we agreed we would help each other speak kind quiet words, not loud hurtful ones, and he made a first tentative step today.

6. My daughter’s bubbling laughter at our one-eyed puppet

7. My youngest son’s uninhibited energy

8. Hot coffee with pumpkin spice creamer

9. Baking cookies with the kids

10. Sunday afternoon naps

More to come each Monday…. and click the banner below to join others choosing gratitude.

holy experience

Filed UnderFamily, Grief, Suffering 9 Comments

Time Doesn’t Heal All Wounds

10:12 am By

*Warning: if you’re the least bit squeamish, skip the first paragraph.*

abscessPhoto credit

Several weeks ago, our (my) cat limped into our house, skin gaping open from the side of her neck. After a few phone calls and a trip to the vet ER (shocking but true — there are emergency rooms for animals), we learned that she’d had an abscess for several days (which explained why I kept expecting to find her curled up dead somewhere). It had burst on its own, leaving a skin pocket large enough to fit a hamster inside.

Suddenly my new-laptop-savings became vet-bill-money. (Silver lining — we had cash to pay the vet. But it doesn’t stop me from being totally bummed. I keep cruising Ebay and the Apple refurb page longingly.)

In the process of figuring out what do with her, we learned a little about infections. Some wounds must be drained, cleaned, trimmed of dead skin, and stitched semi-closed so any remaining infection can drain out during the healing process.

Treating her abscess was like a living breathing parable of my heart, infected with closed unresolved wounds. Those wounds festered for many months. I discovered a strange paradox — the worse the infection became, the more difficult it appeared to me to treat it. I knew that would require lancing — re-opening the wound. Oh how I wished to avoid that. But the pressure, and the pain grew. Try as I might to forget about it, I could not. I had this catch in my spirit, this compulsion to go back and try to make it right.

Finally, I took the medicine. Reluctantly, fearfully, tentatively, I drafted the email, first in my head with much prayer and rewriting. Then, I sat down and typed. Let it sit for a few more days. Rewrote. Would my message be well-received? Would it reopen their old wound and the ensuing carnage spew pus over all of us?

Finally, hands clammy and heart pounding, I clicked “Send.”

Less than 24 hours later, a response dropped into my inbox. Grace, forgiveness, reconciliation. The wound was drained, cleaned, stitched together, finally healing.

I am so thankful.

Where do you need to lance, clean, and treat an old wound?

Filed UnderFaith and Doubt 3 Comments
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