Well, my mother attempted several times to teach me…even to the point of deciding on a pattern and purchasing fabric…but I never cut the first piece until maybe about twenty months ago.  She created an easy block grid, my sister and I found fabric (after pouring over several bolt/color scheme/pattern possibilities).  The first strips I cut were kinda scary for me, as cutting the fabric seemed so permanent…so final.

Still, I persisted, measured, worked, cut…and then came the sewing.  (I need to mention here that I ABHOR RIPPING SEAMS…I just really can’t stand it….I hate working to sew and then having to take out whatever it is I did–that was wrong–and ripping takes like ten times as long as sewing…or so it seems…but, alas….)  So, the sewing part was another moment where I felt nervous, anxious, scared to move forward…but I did it.

Well–I got the squares for the top pieced together, and sewed one side strip on the blocks, and then had a life-changing experience.  And my quilt sat in a chest for about twelve months.  Well, eventually I found a new friend to help me finish my quilt.  I went over one morning, and by afternoon, I had a quilt.  :)  I felt so excited…such energy…such joy that I was able to complete the sewing on the quilt!

Then, the quilting itself began…and that was another adventure in and of itself.  I have a good half of it quilted now–but, even though it is not yet officially washable & complete, I would like to share with you some life lessons I have learned through quilting.

1.  No matter how well you plan, some things will change.  Like life circumstances.  Or feelings.  Or what you like or don’t like.  Even though I thought I knew how my quilt (life) would turn out when I started, I have been surprised and delighted by the various outcomes (like the back of my quilt, which ended up with some unplanned but cute strip stripes!).

2.  Everyone makes mistakes.  Yes, this was my first quilt, and I was naive to think that if I measured just right, and sewed perfectly straight, that everything would work together and be perfect.  It wasn’t.  I made mistakes.  And I learned from them.  Even seasoned quilters make mistakes.  We all do.  Fabric stretches, shrinks, and pulls.  Needles break.  And it’s all okay.  Enjoy the ride.

3.  Miracles happen when you do the best you can.  I had very little of the green polka dot fabric left and still needed to complete the row at the end of my quilt.  Then, I did a silly thing.  I accidentally snipped the fabric when I was trimming a thread.  Ugh!  But, guess what?!?!?!?!?  Well, I had JUST ENOUGH FABRIC to make one more square.  Yes, I had to seam rip and piece again, but the piece fit perfectly.  And I saved the snipped square in my journal to help me remember my little miracle.

4.  I can be happy even if my quilt is (or I am) not perfect.  Would I have liked to produce a quilt with no mistakes–a perfectly sewn, “I can do this right the first time” quilt?  Sure!  Who wouldn’t?  But I would’ve missed so many experiences, musings, conversations, and miracles.  And, besides, my great aunt used to say that the mistakes in a piece of artwork allow the spirit of the work to come through it.  (And let me just say here that my quilt has plenty of spirit!)  :)

So–would you like to see it?  Here are pics of the front and back that I took before I began quilting it.  I’m really grateful for this experience and for the lessons I have learned.  Hopefully I will continue to learn as I quilt through life!

Change is an interesting thing. It can be exciting. It can be scary. It can be welcomed. It can be hard. It can mean progress. It can mean regression. But one constant about change is that it happens around all of us, to all of us, and in all of us. And it always means some sort of transition.

I’ve been faced with some interesting changes and transitions lately: new school year, new friends, new insights and experiences; challenges, choices, and bittersweet consequences. Some of these changes have been awesome (as in, I change my study habits and my grades miraculously improve!), and some of them have been really, really tough. There have been many misty-eyed moments and more than a few tears shed as I’ve faced a few things I really didn’t want to deal with as well as things that fill my heart with so much joy that it overflows and spills out my eyes.

And through all of this, I really feel like I’m making progress. I’m learning to accept the change that inevitably comes. I’m learning that change is ok. I’m learning that, no matter what, there is always somebody there who supports and loves me. I’m learning to see the blessings that surround me even in the face of difficulties. And I’m learning to see each and every day as the new start that it is. If you are doing the same, I’d love to hear about it. It’d be really nice to know that, somewhere in this big world, there’s somebody who’s going through the same thing I am. Let’s support each other, huh?

But you’re probably thinking what I was thinking: colic is for babies–literally! I am NOT a baby, last time I checked. So how’d I get it? And most importantly, when and how was it going to go away???

So I called my mom again, writhing in agony and complaining all the while, trying to figure out what to do. My mom, in all her awesomeness, commiserated with me. She’d never felt pain like mine, but she knew from others’ experience that it was no fun, and expressed sympathy for what I was going through. She said I never wanted a colicky baby (although, thanks to Dr. Internet, I now know what to do with one). And I said maybe I was going through this now so my future children wouldn’t have to. Or if I did have a colicky baby, I thought, I would understand the pain she would experience, and thus be more patient with her (even if she’s crying and writhing in inconsolable agony in the middle of the night).

Maybe that seems far-fetched to you. But I really think that sometimes–often, even–we experience pain and suffering not just for our benefit, but for the benefit of others. I can think on my past, and see how I was able to draw on my experiences to help–or even just simply understand–a friend or loved one. I can think of times where others have done the same for me.

We are all connected through our experiences. What have you experienced that has allowed you to help or bond with another? When have you been on the receiving end of such a special occurrence? And can you look at your current trials as not a punishment or a learning experience solely meant for you, but as a way of preparing you to help someone in the future?

I know that when I look into the face of my screaming, colicky child, I’ll know my pain was not wasted. It’s worth the pain now to connect with her later. Well worth it

There are things that you see;
Other things you feel.
Feelings can’t be seen, yet we never doubt they are real.
When you search for the truth, don’t just use your eyes.
Look inside yourself: that is where the truth always lies.
Where knowledge ends, faith begins, and it shines like a star
Till your heart fills with hope and with love.

From the day that we’re born, we start asking why.
There is more to life, more than it would seem meets the eye.
When you’ve learned all you can, there’s still more to know–
Things you can not prove, so you just believe they are so.
Where knowledge ends, faith begins, and it shines like a star
Till your heart fills with hope and with love.

I love this because it talks about how limited our empirical senses are, and it alludes to how endless the amount of knowledge in this universe is…and how some of the most important things we will ever learn will come from within ourselves.
I talked to a good friend recently about how much we’re learning in our lives. Yes, we’re both at different stages of formal education, but it wasn’t just academics we were talking about. We mentioned different lessons we’ve learned through our many experiences. We talked about our opinions, and why we feel the way we do about things. We talked about the women we are, and the women we hope to become…and are becoming.
I love learning. And I love that some of my most powerful learning comes not from books, but from introspection.
She (the singer) finishes her song by singing: “I have looked in your heart; I have faith in you.” I have faith in me, that I will be able to learn all I need to, even when it seems my mind and heart and soul can’t hold any more knowledge, and that I can take what I know and use it to help other people; and I have faith in you, that you can do the same.

We haven’t known each other for a long time, yet I am connected with her and her family. Connection is not something I do easily, so it has been amazing to love and cherish her family so quickly.

I have been thinking a lot lately about the lessons Geri has taught me. She has been in the hospital for about 6 weeks and most of that time I have visited or someone from my family has visited almost every day. We have laughed, we have cried, we have held each other’s hands and we have talked and talked and talked.

How I love our talks. We talk about our children. We talk about lives. We talk about her death and passing on to the other side. We talk about our dreams. We talk about our disappointments. We talk about God. We talk about peace. We talk about how we wish that we had done differently. We talk about our experiences with long term illness. We talk about life.

Geri has been a true friend. When I leave the hospital, I am a better person. I have learned about patience. I have learned about long-suffering. Mostly, I have learned about love.

I am so grateful for the gift of love given to me and my family from Geri, Warren, Robyn, Susie, Linda and Cheri. They are and forever be an integral part of our lives. I want to be a better person just by knowing them. Thank you my friends.

How have you expressed your love today?

“The greatest adversary you will ever face is your own potential.” It affected me so deeply that it bore repetition. Having faced my share of adversaries in my days–from the girl for whom my kindergarten boyfriend dumped me (heartbreaking for a 5-year-old, let me tell you) to the seemingly insurmountable Beethoven sonata I performed in my senior recital–I knew almost immediately that his statement was true. The main thing I had to come to terms with, to face, in such situations was none other than myself. Through my own years of experience, I’ve been rejected and replaced more times and in more ways than I care to think about…but am learning to remember that I, Marta, am fully lovable the way I am, and have the potential to become even more so. Contending with Beethoven (well, his Sonata in F Major, anyway) showed me my potential for growth as well as my potential to accept my weaknesses, and to overcome them without needing to hide them. And those are just two examples.

Yes, our own potential is our greatest adversary. How wonderful to know that the strongest thing we have to conquer is within ourselves! We ARE that powerful! Isn’t that amazing?

Or, I should say, aren’t you amazing?

I am studying to become a special education teacher. I learn that all of my students will learn differently, and I think everyone learns differently anyway. So, if everyone learns differently why when we get a paper back do we say, “What did you get? What did you get?” You know you have been there before: when someone gets one point lower than you, and this person always gets a higher grade, but when you get that extra point you sort of smile inside and think “haha I win.” Yet, if we all learn differently, why are we comparing ourselves to each other?

I have done that my whole life. Stressed for success, I call it. This semester has been the worst. I have skipped church and Sabbath rest days (or rest times cause some of my friends cannot take a whole day so they take 1/7 out of everyday). I have pulled all nighters and skipped meals. Just to have the best grades, and to make sure I was the best. I would cry when I got and A- because it wasn’t perfect.

Then I read this… “Pay careful attention to your own work, for then you will get the satisfaction of a job well done, and you won’t need to compare yourself to anyone else” (Galatians 6:4). Wow! What an amazing and powerful statement. Father wants me to pay attention to my own work, and try my best, and that is all he asks. He knows I am different from everyone else, and he knows what my honest best is, and he doesn’t care about the letter grade. I would never expect my students to be perfect all the time, so why do I hold myself to such a secular standard instead of God’s standard?

A few weeks ago I heard a talk about this woman who wanted to go medical school. She wrote to an to her friend and said, “Now I have time to go medical school but it will take forever, after all the field experience and the classes, it will take ten years, I will be forty.” Her friend replied, “You will be forty in ten years anyway.” This conversation really hit me. Why am I not living my life? Why am I so worried about a letter that by the time I am forty won’t matter?

So, I pulled out a post-it note (an orange one) and on that post-it note I wrote Sundays are for resting, spending time with God, and building upon relationships. I look at that post-it when I am stressing over homework or a test I have. I think to myself it doesn’t have to be perfect; just try your best, because that is all that Father asks, and Sundays are his time to grow in him and rest!

Even though print was lacking, our heritage stories were not. I have talked, in a previous blog, about how the women in our family show love by cooking. We also have a heritage of strength that is passed down from generation to generation.

I loved that my Aunt Gwen and Aunt Ida would drive me down to the coast and show me where the plantation stood, where my ancestors ran the ferry, the road named after our family, where my great grandmother, after being widowed ran a store and my grandfather grew up on the second floor of the store. We went to the cemetery and read the grave markers of family members who served in the Revolutionary and Civil Wars. Even though the ones who fought were men, it was always taught to me that the women stayed home and took care of everything while the men were away. I knew that the women in our family were strong women, powerful in their ability to nurture, care for and love other people. I was taught that there was always enough to share with someone who had less; to care for others.

I learned the stories of our family history and I learned the lessons learned by the women in my family as they labored to be all that they can be. In fact, my Aunt Gwen went back and completed college after all of her children were grown.

This month is women’s history month. We empower ourselves and our daughters (and even our sons) as we teach them the stories of success from the women in our family. What stories of the women in your family can you share with your family members? We would love to hear them too!

I have had problems with my eyes for years. I needed cataract surgery and we had to postpone it until the inflammation in my eyes calmed down. When I finally was able to have the surgery on my eye, I had to wear a patch for seven weeks. It was a long time. I worried that my grandchildren would be afraid of me. I didn’t want the patch to scare them. Our favorite activity is for me to read stories to my grandchildren. I love for them to sit on my lap or by my side as we read. I didn’t want to miss that because they were afraid of me with a patch on my eye.

I came to my daughter’s house for dinner one Sunday after my surgery. I was sitting on the couch in her living room and John, then 3, said to me, “Eye hurt?” pointing to the patch. I said it did. None of my great-grandchildren were afraid of me. During the next seven weeks, our relationship was the same.

After the seven weeks were over and my patch was removed, I was again at my daughter’s home for Sunday dinner. I was sitting on the couch and John came up to me and said, “Eye all better now?” None of the other children ever asked about it. None of them were afraid. John was so compassionate and so feeling with his great grandma and her eye surgery.

How can we show compassion today?

And what I have discovered through all of this is that I have an amazing support system that is way better, way stronger, and way bigger than I ever thought existed. People have come into my life and been there for me in the most astounding of ways. The hand of God has been in my life every day.

This week has been one of the most amazing weeks of my life.