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I’m a bit sensitive.
I don’t want to be, it’s how I’m made. I long to embrace this sensitivity for the gift that it is. It’s changed, grown, matured? over time. Still causing trouble when my face decides to show things swirling below.
I’m also candid which is oh Lordy just enjoy the ride here.
At the residence where we worked my Sweetie cared for the koi pond. The flora chosen with intention by the Priest running the place, to enhance the pond and be calming (but not too) and welcoming. I loved going out to be there with the guys for a bbq, to celebrate birthdays, or to chat. At some point my Sweetie brought home clippings from two plants: a trumpet vine because I love orange and it grows really well, and this other plant that has white flowers to it. Both are what I’d call runners when their roots get far enough they shoot up stems. The trumpet is a bit more controllable than the other plant. The one with the white flowers is driving.me.crazy. It’s all over the front yard, cropping up in places…
I just started typing, “I don’t mind it, really” but I really do mind this being in my yard, it’s not how I envisioned the yard looking.
While contemplating the next words to take this post in both the faith and quilting direction desired I checked out the readings of the day, beginning with the happy fault of Adam and Eve. Right around the time I read On the Dignity and Vocation of Women (about 21 years ago) I read this passage of our Faith History in a new light. The easy focus is Adam, Eve, that snake and the fall. Yep it’s all there. And then there’s a shift in language where Scripture gives us some insight into the Woman who would, in the fullness of time,
I will put enmity between you and the woman,
and between your offspring and hers;
he will strike at your head,
while you strike at his heel.
The New Eve strikes at the head of the snake. The pride of the fall, replaced by the humility of saying, “Yes” to God’s will.
As a revert to the Faith I’ve struggled with the notion of conversations with Mary, and the Saints, seeking their prayerful intercession on my behalf. I think little of asking my brothers and sisters to pray for me, those who have gone on though…that’s been a challenge. Until the last couple of weeks. While thinking about the moment Jesus died, and the veil in the Holy of Holies rent in two, and delving further into the mystery that is our daily Liturgy recognizing in the moment of Consecration where the bread and wine become the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of our Lord – heaven and earth meet in this sweet kiss. That veil torn in two becomes transparent, God is the God of the living, including those who have gone on before us. We see this when Elijah is translated into heaven, we see this at the Transfiguration when Jesus talks with Moses and Elijah. They are alive, their souls in the presence of the Creator.
So, we have these brothers and sisters ready, and waiting to – just like those here on earth – intercede, present our needs to our Father who longs to hear from us, to know our needs, and to remind us of his great love for us in this human family. Who more than Mary, our Mother, would want to intercede on our behalf. Just as she did for the couple at Cana (here Jesus refers to her as Woman).
In all of this thinking too that plant mentioned earlier, turning up all over, where I’m not thrilled with it…it’s like pride, and fear, and envy, but it’s also tenacious, and confident.
As quilters we rely on others to teach us, those who are present to us, and those who we may never meet in person. We are influenced in some way by those “on whose shoulders we stand”. There are so many people we don’t even know who had a major impact on the wonderful world of quilt making. In fifteen years no one will know my name or what I even brought to the quilt party. In a way this is comforting. Not because I will be forgotten, but because there are new faces, with fresh ideas, who have a passion for what they are doing, passing on that love of all things fabric, batting and thread. I do make a difference in some quilters lives, and that, dear ones, is God’s gift to me here and now. I’m so grateful.
I get to, here and now, in a new way embrace so much beauty about myself, the gifts God has given me, the beauty of friendship, and of mentorship and pass this on.
May you be filled with the peace and love of Jesus.