Not So Random

Six years ago, my twin sister had her first baby. Around that time, I decided I would attend the "Quilting Fever" class so that I could make my very first nephew a Cuddle Quilt. It was tedious work, but having chosen only two fabrics, it was not as difficult as I had imagined. I enjoyed thinking of sweet Henry as I stitched it together, and even now get occasional opportunities to snuggle under it with him. However, it has not been until a month ago that I considered a second attempt at such a project. My younger sister is due to have her first child in late March. Aunt Bec Bec cannot think of a better reason to try again! 

Thus the process of choosing fabrics, planning patterns and stitching squares together has begun. 

Making My Quilt:

Step One - Choosing Fabric: I had to take Linda (Smith) with me to choose my fabric. I can mention browns, teals, and greens to her and from the rows of countless rolls of fabric, she can pull together the most random, yet most beautiful combination. I have learned that "green" can mean paisleys, flowers, plaids and polkadots. Linda says, "Think outside the box." This is not an easy task for me, but watching her gives me hope!

Step Two - Cutting the Squares: This part, I get. It's methodical. It makes sense. You measure it. You cut it. Done! I got this step done the first night I had the material at home!

Step Three - Deciding How to Arrange the Squares: In direct opposition to my "inside the box" thinking, Linda thinks in "random." She stood with my five different fabrics and just pulled one at a time in no particular order into several rows. She would look, shake her head, move a few around, and then look at me with satisfaction. What she had done was beautiful, but I wanted to try. Of course, I had to see it all lying out on the floor. So I spread out a sheet and carefully placed all 120 of my squares. I could NOT do random. Even my random was turning into a pattern. It was very difficult for me to just let go of the idea that it must be symmetrical and perfectly squared. I cannot even PLAN to be random! "Think outside the box," Linda would say. I'm not there yet. I'm not sure I can do random and make it beautiful. Fortunately, Linda has books of patterns, and I found one that looks great! Maybe I'll get brave and try a small random pillow with my scraps!

All of this process has reminded me that we have a Master Quilter who is stitching together what may appear to be random circumstances and events in our lives. He has placed people into our lives who possess a variety of gifts, personalities and experiences. We may not understand why He is placing polkadots next to paisleys and in the moment, it may not be pleasing to the eye. However, what we believe to be beautiful and orderly cannot even compare to what He has in mind for His finished product (1 Cor. 2:9). What a peace that washes over me as I trust my Master Quilter to stitch together the fabric of my life in a way that to Him is not so random (Is. 55:8).

Numbering My Days

J.R.R. Tolkien's classic adventure tale, The Hobbit, contains a scene in which Bilbo Baggins, the main character, gets lost in a dark cave and finally becomes involved in a riddle contest with a mysterious, scary creature called Gollum. According to a deal the two have made, if Bilbo is unable to guess Gollum's riddle, Gollum gets to eat him. The hero has already guessed several of Gollum's riddles, but is faced with one he cannot puzzle out:

          This thing all things devours;
          Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;
          Gnaws iron, bites steel;
          Grinds hard stones to meal;
          Slays king, ruins town,
          And beats high mountain down.

 When Bilbo cannot give the solution, he hears Gollum coming for him in the darkness. Tolkien continues:

          [Bilbo] began to get frightened, and that is bad for thinking.  Gollum began to get out
          of his boat. He flapped into the water and paddled to the bank; Bilbo could see his eyes
          coming towards him.  His tongue seemed to stick in his mouth; he wanted to shout out:
          "Give me more time! Give me time!" But all that came out with a sudden squeal was:
          "Time! Time!"

          Bilbo was saved by pure luck.  For that of course was the answer.
    
I cannot tell you how often I feel like poor little Bilbo, desperate for time before some monster--work, over-commitment, even fun-- gobbles up all my energy and resources. I feel like shouting, "Give me more time! Give me time!" These days whenever anyone asks my prayer concerns, I request prayer for wisdom in using my time well. As I get older, I consider more carefully how I want to spend precious hours and minutes of my remaining time in this life.

I know we who trust in Christ are promised eternity, but that idea is quite beyond my comprehension. Days and hours, however, I do understand, and I want to use them in such a way as I will not regret. I am reminded of Psalm 90:12. "So teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom."

Before time devours my opportunities and beats down my strength, I want to do the work God has given me. The calendar is a construct of man, but here near the start of new year is a good time to take stock and make some plans.

---Sherry Poff

Blessed Through The Eyes of My Granddaughters

I am blessed to have the awesome opportunity of taking care of my three granddaughters, ages one, two and three, while my daughter is at work. As much as my daughter thinks I am blessing her, I am receiving many more blessings. As a young mother I unknowingly missed a lot of opportunities. As a grandmother I am making sure I do not miss even one!

Read what the Lord has in His word for us in Deuteronomy 11:18-19 concerning the opportunities we have: “So commit yourselves completely to these words of mine. Tie them to your hands as a reminder, and wear them on your forehead. Teach them to your children. Talk about them when you are at home and when you are away on a journey, when you are lying down and when you are getting up again.”

I have been blessed as we drive in the car pointing out the sky and trees. We talk about the different seasons. Recently we were on our way home and saw a beautiful double rainbow. I took the opportunity to tell them the story of Noah. My new found excitement became their excitement as we gazed at God’s wonderful promise.

I have been blessed as I taught them that when we hear sirens we are to immediately pray for those who need care and those who will care for them. My three year old granddaughter would tell Jim Hostetter that she was praying for him when she saw him Sunday nights in the hallway at church.

I have been blessed as I patiently allow my granddaughters to help me cook, clean and do laundry. Their bright smiles and big round eyes are so precious when they carry out the task at hand. The young mother who thought everything had to be perfect has become the grandmother who realizes the significance of things less perfect.

I have been blessed to have the opportunity to teach my granddaughters that Jesus will always be there to help them. He is always listening to their prayers. I could not hold back the tears upon hearing for the first time from my three year old granddaughter that she had prayed to Jesus when she was scared of the thunder and lightning and He helped her feel better.

God has taught me many things on this journey, but the one thing that has changed my life recently, is knowing Him on a new level by being blessed through the eyes of my granddaughters.

Tina Laubscher

Hide or Seek?

A simple game of Hide-n-Seek with my niece and nephews this holiday season has me thinking about my approach to reaching the lost and needy.

Luke, my four-year-old nephew, and I found the best hiding places and were the last to be found! He could hardly stand the excitement and even attempted to "whistle" a couple of times just to get our seeker looking in the right direction. We'd been sitting in the bathtub, with shower curtain pulled for quite some time when my oldest nephew, Henry, came in, turned the light on and said, "They're not in here." Since the shower curtain is somewhat sheer as we could see Henry clear as day (at which point I made the mental note to keep the bathroom door locked when taking a shower), Luke and I could hardly believe Henry hadn't seen us.

Every day, I look into faces of people just waiting to be found. Am I really so blinded by the "game" of seeking that when I actually find what I'm looking for I convince myself that they're not there?

A few minutes later, we all regrouped in the living room where it became my turn to seek. My three-year-old niece, Maggie, ran with every ounce of energy to the little rug at the top of the stairs, threw herself on the ground and pulled the corner over her head. She was shaking with enthusiasm as she'd discovered the best hiding place ever!

Like Maggie, I tend to believe that if I can't see the need, it will simply cease to exist.

I've become quite the expert at finding excuses NOT to go seeking. I could play Hide-n-Seek for hours with my niece and nephews, but when it comes to "seeking" the lost, I'd much rather go "hide" somewhere.

Fortunately, we don't have to search too hard or too long to find lost people or people who have needs. May the women of Grace Baptist Church become seekers! Chattanooga needs to be found!

~Rebecca Phillips~

Poem for the New Year

I was in the nursery on Sunday morning and missed hearing Steve Winget.  Larry told me about the message, and this poem leaped immediately to mind.  Years ago I taught sixth grade, and this was a work that my students were required to memorize. I had almost forgotten it, but I looked it up, and now I offer it for your enjoyment.  Susan Coolidge is the pen name of Sarah Chauncey Woolsey.  I think I would have liked her. 

Begin Again
by Susan Coolidge

Every day is a fresh beginning,
Every morn is the world made new;
You who are weary of sorrow and sinning,
Here is a beautiful hope for you-
A hope for me and a hope for you.

All the past things are past and over,
The tasks are done and the tears are shed;
Yesterday’s errors let yesterday cover;
Yesterday’s wounds, which smarted and bled,
Are healed with the healing which night has shed.

Yesterday now is a part of forever,
Bound up in a sheaf, which God holds tight;
With glad days, and sad days and bad days which never
Shall visit us more with their bloom and their blight,
Their fullness of sunshine or sorrowful night.

Let them go, since we cannot relieve them,
Cannot undo and cannot atone;
God in His mercy, receive, forgive them;
Only the new days are our own,
Today is ours, and today alone.

Here are the skies all burnished brightly,
Here is the spent earth all reborn,
Here are the tired limbs springing lightly
To face the sun and to share the morn,
In the chrism of dew and the cool of dawn.

Every day is a fresh beginning;
Listen, my soul, to the glad refrain,
And, spite of old sorrow and older sinning,
And puzzles forecasted and possible pain
Take heart with the day, and begin again.

I find that I love this poem now even more than I did all those years ago.  I hope it's a blessing to you, as well.

Sherry Poff