Wounded, We All Need Stitching

Sharing the joys, contentment, and lessons of everyday life with:

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{Pretty}

I brush a hand over the sewing table, to whisk away the glinting sparkles from half-doilies that shine...with semi-futility.  I harbor a hope that if Kyri finds a pink or blue glint of kippah sparkle that I missed, on her pristine white chapel veil, she'll simply pick it off with a smile on her lips and grace in her heart. These sparkles are stubborn; they want the whole church to shine.

Soft white stretch lace is arranged gently on the table and spread flat.  Ornate venise lace motifs require hand tacking, one by one.  I'll be here awhile.

I don't mind.  There is healing to do.



Fine white thread through the eye of a needle....Narrow is the way, and I think of the camel...

"Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle..."

{Happy}

The stitching begins.  My eyes are getting middle aged.  I never anticipated bifocals, but here they are.  Funny that your eyes need lenses to see clearly as you age...yet, your spirit doesn't really see very clearly before then, does it?

One silky motif at a time, carefully arranged, secured in place.  Things set right.

I think of things off kilter, and broken relationships, and seeing one that you love in a theater and knowing that the bridge is burned, and not knowing entirely where the fault lies.  Of words poorly chosen, and misunderstood.  We spread fault around like popcorn, really, and it is hard to put away caring for one that has been placed on your heart.

The sewing is healing; every veil a prayer.  The stitches come smoothly and they glide hurt away.  Silky white venise threads catch light.  So beautiful.  Pure, like hope.

{Real}

I think of a California veil headed for sometimes Russian Orthodox services in Australia, and realization falls familiar of how we are all connected across miles, by silky threads.  How diaphanous Summer-light lace can sparkle Winter white, depending on the hemisphere.

...Of memories of mothers' confirmation veils, how love stretches long across decades of time,...and of how exquisite lace captures, cradles, and preserves love in its delicate weave.

...Of fragile lace sewn on the machine of a grandmother long gone, and then passed gently, quietly, from one Christian woman's hands to those of another, across a huge expanse of miles.  And how Christ runs through all of us, no matter the distance, and we are his Body, one and whole.

How sometimes the span is miles, and sometimes it is hurt and misunderstanding and brokenness.

So many veils, gentle on the hair of so many praying women, with hurts to heal, and healing to give.

How He wraps us in his arms and holds us together, even when bridges are burned and tiny living threads are broken.

{Healed and Happy}

I think of veils sewn and of praying women, and of hurt.  How we all carry hurt and just want one another to heal it, and sometimes get mad when we don't do the healing.

And then familiar prayers fall soft and quiet, for ones who don't know they are being prayed for, over years, across arches of ash.  Hoping they will find love and joy and peace.  Praying there will be little ones and love grown old and wrinkled.  Prayers don't need feet on wood slats to travel over gulfs of pain.

The stitches keep coming.  One by one.  Tying hearts together across miles and gulfs and pride.

I steam-press a delicate veil on its way to Australia, under a cotton tea towel sent from Britain,...Three women touch fingertips across continents, in Christ.

Love pours over lace and holds fast.  Grace falls over each of us, gently, and settles soft...enfolding us in the love of Our Lord...edged in venise hope.

...touched by Christ our Healer.

Pax Christi, Dear Ones,
~Michelle

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Ripping Stitches

I've been cutting a lot of lace lately.  It's the most stressful part, for me, of the veil making...








...Stitches can be redone, but a cut is a cut...and good lace is expensive.  One slip of that rotary cutter, and I have lost some lace.  








I was thinking today how much different sewing is from yarn work.  Crochet stitches can be pulled out and redone, with the yarn no worse for the wear, ...but when sewn stitches are ripped from material, there is a hole left...and cuts in material with a blade are permanent.

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Jesus took our rotary cutter life, and gave us a crochet hook life.  We err; we sin; we are fallen.  But he is perfect, and he has redeemed us.  We are forgiven.  And, as we strive to follow after him, we will stumble.  There will be more than a few missed stitches, but he has given us the opportunity for forgiveness.  

It doesn't mean that we ought to take the call to holiness lightly, but as we strive to grow in him, we can rest assured that there is always forgiveness, and the opportunity to start again.  Let us savor the gift.


God Bless you in Your Walk with Him,
Pax Christi,
~Michelle

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The Christmas Quilt Part Two:

You can find part one of this series here.

Our supplies are layed out. We have used two of the six sets of the cut strips already. Four more to go.

This is where we left off last time:

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A Little More History, as We Sew...
After 1846, and the invention of the sewing machine, quilts and other sewn household items were often made by frugal housewives, of “feedsacks” or “floursacks”.  Prior to 1846, foodstuffs such as flour, rice, grains, seeds, and animal feed had to be packed in boxes, tins, and other hard containers that wore out, and were difficult to pack and transport.  However, with the invention of the sewing machine, a strong lengthy seam which was adequate to create a durable feedsack, was possible. 

At the same time, New England mills began producing a good supply of American made fabric, making the American textile sack the new means of packaging for American grains, seeds, and feeds.  From the 1860s to the 1940s, the colorful fabrics were as heavily advertised as the products packaged in them.  The fabric was important, because the family would be wearing, and bedding down under, it, once the contents of the sack had been consumed.

I wish that modern warehouse stores would adopt the fabric floursack of the past. Perhaps if they did, my new sack of breadflour would not have tears in it?  At any rate, I would have fabric to sew with, instead of paper to throw away, when the flour is gone.

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But, I digress...

We seem to be making progress.  We are finding that it is important to pay close attention to the book's instructions on seam orientation.  Of course, careful cutting is a must.  

We are also learning that "Baby" is positively fascinated with the quilt making process, which is mildly bothersome...

...but, not too terribly much so.  Baby gets away with pretty much anything.

Stay tuned friends!  We just might make it!

You can find the book we are using here:


Don't forget to enter the giveaway!

Pax Christi,
~Michelle

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Deep Roots at Home

The Christmas Quilt is Underway!...

...Where two amateur quilt makers attempt to undertake the construction of a log cabin quilt.

The log cabin quilt has been sewn in America since the 1860s, although women were producing goods containing the general "log cabin" pattern as far back as ancient Egyptian times.

In 19th century America, women didn't have much choice when it came to color and fabric selection.  Quilts were assembled from pieces of well worn clothing and household linens that needed replacing.

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Quilts, in that era, were a product of necessity, and were, of course, sewn by hand.  The narrow strips used to assemble the log cabin quilt were difficult to manage, at times, so they were generally attached to a fabric foundation.

We won't be using a fabric foundation, and, we will be relying on my grandmother's trusty Singer.  We shall see how this turns out....

You can find part two of this series here.

You can find the book we are using here:

Stay tuned, and wish us luck!


Pax Christi,
~Michelle

Brother CS6000i Sew Advance Sew Affordable 60-Stitch Computerized Free-Arm Sewing Machine