Rag Quilt

A quilt. Something I’ve always wanted to do but after my tablecloth semi-failure, I didn’t think I’d ever try. But then friends on mine on facebook said that they were going to try and make one. So I asked if I could join them, and graciously they said yes!

So they sent me links and I found a website and I went to buy fabric and batting.

First I cut it into 6” squares. This was after trying to figure out how to get the most squares for the amount of material I had by mathematical calculations. (You know, a yard is 36” and 6 x 6 is 36...so...)

Then I cut the batting

...but I miscalculated that and cut too much batting, but that was okay.

Then I put the batting in between the cloth.

And then I put it in a box because I felt that I had no idea how to do whatever came next.

Thankful, I have an awesome friend, Nicole, who does know what she is doing so I went over to her house. She showed me how to x my squares and I was able to finish all my green squares at her house. She also helped save my tablecloth! (Although I still need to finish what she showed me to do, it was at least a start!)

I felt really great about those beautiful green squares and was determined to do the yellow ones on my machine at home.

My sewing machine was my Great-Grandma Curtis’ and probably from the 1940 or 1950s. I am not a seamstress and it just confuses me. However, I had made the tablecloth so I knew sort of how to work it. So I sat down to do it! The thread tension was off. I tried to read the manual. I called my dad and figured out some of the problems (yes, the foot has to be put down to sew). I called my mom and she said to ask for help from someone in the area who could come over. So I did. I seriously thank God for friends. I sent Nicole a message and she said she had time to drop by and help me. So she did. She battled my machine and helped me to understand it.

And so I was off to do they yellow squares!

I was happy to actually, sort of, understand my sewing machine and make it work! I can sew a straight line and in a zig-zag pattern.

Bear-Lee and my finished squares!

Next I put the squares down to figure out how big, and what shape to make it. I did a simple pattern because I didn't want to overwhelm myself with the first quilt.

Then I stacked each row so I could sew the rows.

I started to sew the rows but then I ran out of thread.

After I bought more thread I finished my rows. I wanted to take a picture of them, and saw Mei Mei (one of my basset hounds) shivering near by and decided to let her be decorated with them.

She didn't seem too upset but I wanted to begin piecing them together.

The hardest part was just moving it through the machine once it got longer and bigger. My squares didn't match up perfectly, but I was okay because this was for fun, not stress.

And...tada! The sewing part is done! This is is the front where the rag/frayed part will be.

This is the back/smooth side. Again, the squares are perfectly all the same size and right by each other, but it's close enough!

Then came the clipping. This caused my right hand pain. I didn't have the right scissors so I used what I had and learned that next time I will be buying better scissors. Either way, I finally finished clipping all the pieces.

Since Mei Mei had a picture taken with the quilt, I thought Nani should have a photo with it.

Now it was time to wash it. So (after being told to put it in a pillow case to protect my washer) I washed it.

Then I shook it out to get rid of the little pieces of string and got it all over my fleece pants. It was brilliant, I know, to wear fleece and shake out the quilt...

Finally I dried it and it was finished!! I didn't want Hana to feel left out so I included her in the final product picture.

So here is my first quilt and I am so excited and happy about it that I'm about ready to try another one!

When I'm all grown up...

The day Matthew and I went to the airport to fly away on our honeymoon I felt distinctly that I was running away from home. I felt childlike clutching my travel bag. It was just the two of us and I knew that in a few months it would just be the two of us all the way around the world. I didn’t feel like an adult. I felt like teenager running away.

In Korea, I felt as I did in college. I could be silly and ridiculous because I was a foreginer and since they thought I was strange anyways I might as well be free to have fun. I remember laughing loudly with the other foreign teachers as we walked down the street on a way to a restaurant. The locals looked and eyes and quietly moved passed and there was freedom and youth as we moved on.

Coming back to America felt, unreal. Matthew had a real job. We adopted a cat, bought a house, and then adopted two basset hounds. Life was busy! We painted the house, fixed up little projects, but still I felt a longing for my college friends. Everyone in out new town had children (many of whom Matthew was teaching) and they had their own group of friends and what did I have, that they had, that was in common? I was lonely that first year. Not a child but certainly not an adult. I was “so young” to everyone and I felt young. But when I would visit my college I felt out of place too, it was a weird limbo.

Last year I became the K-2 teacher and I remember when a parent asked me for advice on how to help their child in a particular area I thought to myself, “What? I don’t know! I wasn’t taught that!!” I still didn’t feel like I was an adult. Sure I drove a car, paid bills, and taught children but I felt like a child in my own eyes and other peoples. And when I got those letters...and saw how I was viewed as a professional and teacher...and person I felt even less like an adult as I wept at home.



This year there have been a few times where I have thought, “Wow. I feel like an adult now. And I think I like it.” The times I have thought it is when I am on my way to be with friends or when I am with friends, here in this new town that I think is finally beginning to be a little bit of a home. I don’t know what a real adult is or looks like exactly but I feel like I’ve been accepted into being an adult. I want to step into this..whatever this is, with God’s grace and help.



Most days I feel like me, and I’m not sure who that is yet, but sometimes I feel like I’m an adult now. Sort of.

Running the Wrong Race

I

I heard a sermon at the end of last year that talked about how this woman had been training for a half-marathon and she was ready for the race but somehow the day of she didn’t stop when it was the half but did the whole marathon. At the end of it, she was totally beaten and worn out. She had run the wrong race.

I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to be running the wrong race when that’s not where God wants me to be. Even if God places us somewhere, when do we know when it is time to continue there or to leave? I find that I am eager to rush, as if movement is progress, and I when I am not, I wonder if I am being still or stagnant.

My life is b.u.s.y. And they are not all bad things that it is filled up with. Good things, bad things, indifferent things, and the I-don’t-know-how-to-classify-it things.

Recently I have been reading Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. I was enjoying the book and then he began a chapter that I was not at all prepared for. I know that if I type word for word people probably won’t read this, so I will summarize.

Rob Bell started a church and a few months into its miraculous beginning and growth he finds himself in between services ready to run away, uncertain if he is even still a Christian.

He realizes that he needs to take step back and talks to a therapist. The first time he goes he is spilling out all his stuff, “I was making lists of all the people I was working to keep happy.” The therapist stops him and says that his problem is sin and that, “Your job is the relentless pursuit of who God has made you to be. And anything else you do is sin and you need to repent of it.”

Rob Bell goes on to say, ”I started identifying how much of my life was about making sure the right people were pleased with me. And as this became more and more clear, I realized how less and less pleased I was with myself. What happens is our lives become so heavily oriented around the expectations of others that we become more and more like them and less and less like ourselves. We become split.”

When I read that I felt as if for a moment the world stopped turning. I was split. So split I wasn’t even sure I recognized where I was split.

Then he goes on to explain how he had this idea of a superpastor--someone who was always there for everyone, gave powerful sermons, always is available to be called, enjoys meetings, puts his family first, etc, etc.

And I have an idea of what a superteacher/Christian/wife/daughter/neighbor/relative/church member should be.

The last part of the section says, “I meet so many people who have superwhatever rattling around in their head. They have this person they are convinced they are supposed to be, and their superwhatever is killing them. They have this image they picked up over the years of how they are supposed to look and act and work and play and talk and it’s like a voice that never stops shouting in their ear.

And the only way to not be killed by it is to shoot first. Yes, that is what I meant to write. You have to kill your superwhatever. And you have to do it right now.

Because your superwhatever will rob you of today and tomorrow and the next day until you take it out back and end its life. Go do it. The book will be here when you get back.”

I haven’t read any more in the book since I finished that section. Because I haven’t done it. I haven’t killed the “superwhatever” because I don’t know how.

And because it isn’t that easy. Some expectations will always be there. Some “have” to be there. I can’t just get up in front of whoever and say, “I can’t do _____ anymore because it’s killing who God intended for me to be.” And that’s another thing, how do I know what God intended for me to be? What if this is the fire and I’m being refined? What if I just need an attitude adjustment? I am tentative to mess up, no petrified, because I’ve already reaped some of those consequences and they were crushing. I feel trapped in this mental cycle where I know that I need to break out but I don’t know how to without destroying what I’ve worked so hard to build.

But, I don’t want to run the wrong race.

I don’t want to be burning out and trapped inside a shell.

And so I cry out to God, for freedom--to live as He intended me to. And vision to see it.

Surprised by Love

There are years you are glad to leave behind.

And yet, as excited as I was about this year I was a bit apprehensive, to say the least. I just wanted to share how God has lifted my heart this week. Each day is its own but God has reminded me this week that He is with me.

At lunch time the students do this thing that I don’t have a name for but it goes like this.

Student A: “Who has applesauce?”
And all the students who do raise their hand or the applesauce.

Student A: “Who has ever almost drowned?”
Again, all the students who do raise their hand and/or add commentary on how they are part of this category.

Well this week they were doing their question/hand raising thing when I heard, “Who loves our teacher?” I couldn’t help but look up and see all the hands raised. What was really touching is that it was a student that I had been having some difficulty with since school started that had asked and initiated the question.

The past two weeks I have been introducing a theory/practice that the conference is letting some school pilot. The program is called the Peace Rug. The rug is a place where students can invited someone they are having habitual problems with and work things out. The students practice not blaming the other person but taking responsibility for their actions and how they will change them. It’s a good was to begin young with conflict/resolution.

I had taught this to my class and at recess two of my students were arguing with two of the students from the other class. I mediated and then after some conversation said they could go play. One of my students asked the two students from Matthew’s class to wait. I saw that student lean over and whisper to the other student from my class, “Do you want to invite them to the Peace Rug?” After a small deliberation they asked the two from Matthew’s room if they wanted to go to the Peace Rug. I briefly told them what it was and the four of them, plus me went to the Peace Rug. They didn’t use the five steps perfectly but it was really amazing to see them use it and have them work out a little solution for their problem.

Sometimes when I am sure they haven’t learned anything I’ve tried to teach them for the last hour God reminds me that I am wrong.

Today I had to take my dog, Nani, to the vet to have her gums reattached to her teeth. She was a rescue dog and had bad teeth and this will prevent respiratory issues. So I took my car to the vet and Matthew went to school. I filled out the paper work and hug Nani and then the lady slipped a collar around Nani’s head and I had to take her collar and leash off. (If you are not a dog/pet person this won’t make sense to you). She looked at me like I was abandoning her. I was leaving her in a strange place with a strange person and I was taking the stuff that proved she was mine. I stood to leave and she just watched and waited and I walked away. If you’ve never seen a Nani look you won’t understand this either. It broke my heart. She is an older dog and older dogs have trouble with anesthesia sometimes. So all this is whirling through my head and by the time I pulled out of the vet’s parking lot I was crying. I prayed outloud, “God please take care of my Nani.” Seconds after that I got a text message from my neighbor, Marilyn. She said, “Did I just see you on 10th Street?” I texted back to explain the situation and she told me she would be praying for Nani.

It was an immediate response from God. I prayed and God told me, “I have you. I am surrounding you with love and prayer for the things that your heart needs.”

Nani didn’t end up having the teeth work done today because of a mix-up at the vet but Marilyn called me the evening to see how I was doing and wanting to know about Nani. I am blessed to have a God who cares about my heart-needs.

Today is Friday and we do something in my class called Sabbath Celebration. We celebrate what God created on each day of the week and part of it is that we say what we are thankful for. Today three of the students said they were thankful for me! This is a record because even though I know they care about me, it’s usually other things that come first to their mind. And what was really, really touching was that it was the three students I had to work with the most these two weeks.

There are many moments I struggle as a teacher, wondering if my students see how much I love them, even if I am correcting them more than I wish I had to. To me, it was God telling me that He is with me each day that I ask Him to be.

The last highlight of my week, and maybe the sweetest one wasn’t even spoken with words. As the students were gathering on our round rug for Sabbath Celebration one little students said, “Miss. Beth-Anne!” I looked over as I came to sit with them and saw this little student put their hand in the sign of “I love you.” They smiled as I smiled and signed back, “I love you.”

Duplicity

I feel like a prism with thousands of facets and each one reflects itself leaving me uncertain.

I love to backpack,
but coming back I always want to shower, dress up, and do something feminine.

An empty, quiet sanctuary is one of the most holy places to me,
but I have been immensely blessed by participating in large group praise music, hands raised in joyous praise.

I value honesty in myself and others,
but I am afraid to unveil my heart. Even if I want to say something personal it takes me a long time to warm up to it and if the moment isn’t right it gets stuck inside of me.

I love the country. The beauty of the dawn and dusk as it relaxes the soul.
But the city calls to me sometimes. Like when I see “New York City 115 miles”.

I want to look fashionable (and slightly envy those who always look put-to-gether),
but often just want to wear jeans and a tee-shirt.

I miss my friends,
but have a hard time picking up the phone.

I want friends,
but wonder if it’s worth all the effort just to find out the friendships aren’t real.

And if I had taken different road I would be...

a ballet dancer
a neonatologist
an astronomer
a social worker
a pastor

or...something I could never imagine

living in the city
living abroad

speaking foreign languages with easy and fluency.


Sometimes I wonder about what I would be if I wasn’t so mixed up and just took one way or the other.

If I was fashionable, living in New York as a ballet dancer.

Or if I was a backpacking social worker living in India working to help the children.

When Matthew and I are driving I look out at the passing scenery and wonder at who I am and where I am and wondering if this is who/where I am supposed to be or if it is somewhere else.

Unexpected Gifts

There are some days that you know are going to be special just because they are special days. And then at some point down the road they become so precious you can't believe you did not see it at the time. My wedding was one of those days.

Who doesn't hold their wedding as a special, beautiful day in their heart? But I was blessed beyond measure. And I was blessed to have a photographer who captured pictures I would later hold onto, my heart swelling with love. And I was blessed to have my guests write messages of love/advice to us and blessed that two beloved people wrote on them.




"Always remember that the person you've married is the closest witness to your life and you are to theirs. Both of your lives are precious."
Aunt Teresa







"Love is something so divine description would but make it less it's something you can feel inside but words cannot express."
Bill Vanderlaan





And I am blessed again, I don't know if this was on purpose or not but I feel that it was God's gift to me either way. I was given some of my beloved Aunt's clothing, as we could wear each other's clothes, and one of the dresses that came was this one.





The one she wore to my wedding. I have been so blessed.



I am a tangible person, I like things to touch and hold. I love that I have their handwriting, special notes to me, love notes to me. I have something of them to hold until, I pray, I can hold them again in heaven.

Settling

I posted on Facebook about how I’ve been hearing/reading/listening a lot about not settling.

And some wanted to know what I’ve been reading, others what I’ve been watching. And then someone wanted to know what I meant by settling.

What do I mean by settling? Was that even the right word choice?

It is more than just settling—it’s knowing what are the strengths and weaknesses. And being realistic and then striving totally for where our talents are.














One of the things I’ve been getting these thoughts from is Beyond Talent by John C. Maxwell.

“One thing I teach people at my conferences is to stop working on their weaknesses and start working on their strengths. (By this I mean abilities, not attitude or character issues, which must be addressed) It has been my observation that people can increase their ability in an area by only two points on a scale of 1 to 10. For example, if our natural talent in an area is a 4, with hard work you may rise to a 6. In other words you can go from a little below average to a little above average. But let’s say you find a place where you are a 7; you have the potential to become a 9, maybe even a 10, if it’s your greatest area of strength and you work exceptionally hard!”

I, we, you—spend time trying to improve our 4s. Or trying to make other people improve their 4s. Why? God made each of us different with different talents and gifts. Why are we trying to change ourselves or others? Why not instead focus on our talents and gifts and pursue those and invite others to pursue their talents?

This paragraph was really powerful for me.

“Focusing on weaknesses instead of strengths is like having a handful of coins—a few made of pure gold and the rest of tarnished copper—and setting aside the gold coins to spend all your time cleaning and shining the copper ones in the hopes of making them look more valuable. No matter how long you spend on them, they will never be worth what the gold ones are. Go with your greatest assets; don’t waste your time.”



I also want to say the next part as gently as possible. Why do we spend so much time trying to make relationships that are copper into gold? Why do we keep trying to change people into what we want them to be or relationships into what we want them to be?

I’ve been there. But why?

Are you there? Stop trying to clean and shine the copper coins. It would be better to let go of copper coins and be empty than to have copper coins and thinking you can change them into gold.

“Safe living generally makes for regrets later on.” Don’t settle for comfortable or safety. It is better to be empty handed than settling for copper when you could have gold.


“What do you want to accomplish in your lifetime? How do you want to focus your energy: on survival, success, or significance?”

Significance. If it is only survival or success then it is not a life well lived.

“Death isn’t the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside of us while we live.”

And another source that inspired these continued thoughts on settling. A poem by Karen Vanderlaan.


The Worst Thing



I once told a distraught young mother,

That the worst thing that could happen to her child,

Was not her involvement in drugs and illicit behavior.

I believed the worst thing was death,

But I was wrong.



I have seen death,

And death is not the worst thing.

But, if death isn’t the worst thing,

What is?



The worst thing is to live a life without purpose,

Without grace, and dignity and gratitude.

A shallow life, bitter, without meaning,

A life which takes without giving back,

A life which throws away gifts freely given,



So regardless of how long or short,

This life we are given goes on,

Death is not the worst that can happen,

But squandering living just might be.













Death, or loss of something (job, dream, money, relationship) is not the worst thing that can happen but rather an empty life. One that you thought was good because you had survived and made a success of yourself (got a job—promotion, not single—dating) but in the end was copper, draining as you tried to make it be the gold you could’ve had.


As for what I watched, a short video that a friend put on Facebook. Maybe you won’t get what I got out of it. But it wasn’t that what he did made tons of money but it was his love, his talent, what he poured himself into and it was always worth it. Worth the time and work and pain even.

DARK SIDE OF THE LENS from Astray Films on Vimeo.

“…do something worth remembering with a photograph or with a scar.

I may never be a rich man but if I live long enough I’ll certainly have a tale or two…”

And the last quote, which keeps ringing in my heart is from Tim Redmond in the book Beyond Talent, “There are many things that will catch my eye, but only a few that catch my heart. It is those I consider to pursue.”

A list of smart, right choices are good and well—but what things are catching you heart? The heart God gave you? Pursue those in His blessing and grace.
























Disclaimer: There are things that I believe, once you have entered into them, such as marriage/children, that you need to stay in and work on because you have made that choice/commitment.

Shelter

Last Sunday Matthew surprised me by taking me to a Jars of Clay concert. It was fabulous to be surprised and to have it be Jars of Clay, my favorite band. Their new album is called Shelter and is based off an old Irish proverb that says, “It is in the shelter of each other that the people live.”

What’s amazing is that not only are the songs about community but they had a community working on the album together. Other Christian artists are featured through out the album. It was more than just theory for Jars of Clay they made it a reality for the album.

There are two thoughts that I am consumed by:

We live in the shelter of each other.

In the shelter of each other we live.

They may seem to be the same thing but they aren’t. We do live in the shelter of each other. Everyone is affected by the community they live in. If the shelter has leaks and holes in it then the shelter of each other will not be comforting or safe. If the shelter is filled with bitter and passive-aggressiveness then it will not be a place of open communication and love. We live in the shelter of each other and the condition of the shelter we live in can affect how much we want to stay in that particular shelter or community.

But the real irony is that if the shelter is a bedraggled condition—then it’s not really a shelter. But something terrible. And it can be even worse than terrible if it is disguised as a shelter and is really a place of pain.

And that’s why it is in the shelter of each other we live. When we are really a shelter for each other—that is when we live. When we have community that is supportive and safe we live instead of just survive.

This picture is from the Shelter album and it embodies what I imagine my shelter to be like.





A huge, wonderful tree house where we all live together, sheltering each other.

A place where we can bring up problems and talk through it and then grow stronger together. A place where we don’t have to pretend and can relax and share of ourselves without being afraid. A place where we don’t feel alone even though we are surrounded by others. A shelter where we can live. Thrive even amidst the worst times of our lives because we are sheltering each other.