Life is like a patchwork quilt.  Each piece by itself doesn’t mean much, but when it is finished, the masterplan is revealed. Putting one piece together with another and just keeping on, putting one day together with the next and keep walking in faith make something beautiful. Since my husband’s death, I’ve looked at the mountain of ties he left behind. After our three sons and their sons got the ones they wanted and after I gave some as mementos to Steve’s close friends, there were still a couple of hundred left; each one held a story and a memory and maybe even a spot or two.  I couldn’t bring myself to put them in with the mountain of clothes I donated to Hospice Thrift Store.

Steve was quite the dresser.  He took great pride in his appearance, not for himself, but he felt compelled to put his best self forward in every way when he entered the pulpit to preach. (He also told me he wanted me to be proud of him and his appearance.) Therefore through purchases and gifts, he left behind a storybook of ties.  I decided to preserve some of them by using them in a quilt. I let every family member, who chose to, sew one on the backing. Now that the quilt is complete, albeit far from perfect just as each of us is far from perfect, I look at it and many sagas surface.

There’s the red neat pattern one he wore toward the end when he preached his last sermon –perhaps the best one ever – on faithfulness.  There are many seasonal ones he loved, just as he loved Christmas, Thanksgiving and Easter gatherings of the family.  There is even a baseball tie. I think he dreamed of running the bases once again, as he did when he was in high school, or at least of how he would have loved to have run them. His coach always told him he had better hit the ball hard because when he ran, he ran in the same place for too long. I also remember, when I see it, the time we gathered all the family together in Atlanta for a Braves game.  Rain was predicted and as we started out of town, the clouds gathered.  I told him to stop at a dollar store so I could go in and buy plastic ponchos for everybody.  They were out, but they had a bin of red-checked plastic table clothes.  I bought all of them.  I was laughed out of the park by the family when the drizzle began and I pulled them out of the sack.  Everybody opted to just get wet rather than sit under a tablecloth, except for me.  In order show solidarity, Steve let go of pride and got under it with me.

The floral ones, which I never liked very much, he would wear in spring, especially for Mother’s Day.  Being the great gift-giver he always was, he would always present me with a nice gift.  I would say, “But I’m not your mother.”

He would reply, “But you have been the best mother in the world to our sons.” (He was one silver-tongued fox.) On one Mother’s Day, he entered the pulpit with his Bible and a children’s book.  I think I heard a few snickers at that. The giggles didn’t last for long, because as he honored mother’s he read the little book “Love You Forever.” There wasn’t a dry eye in the house then; grown husky men wept, every mom shed tears, and even the little ones were touched.  If you don’t know the book, buy it and read it; you’ll then understand. That began our signing cards and notes to each other, Love you forever.

I could go on, but will stop. When I look back on our lives, I realize how God took two teenage kids who loved each other, loved Him, attempted to put the needle in the Master’s hand, and He made something beautiful.  I praise God for His faithfulness, for Steve’s faithfulness, and for allowing me to be just a piece of His master plan. The quilt hangs in my foyer a little lopsided, off center and imperfect, just as we are, but when we turn our imperfections  over to him, He makes something beautiful of our lives.

Colossians 3: 14 – 15 Above all, put on love—the perfect bond of unity. And let the peace of the Messiah, to which you were also called in one body, control your hearts. Be thankful.

Psalm 143:8 Let me experience Your faithful love in the morning, for I trust in You. Reveal to me the way I should go because I long for You.

Life is like a patchwork quilt.  Each piece by itself doesn’t mean much, but when it is finished, the masterplan is revealed. Putting one piece together with another and just keeping on, putting one day together with the next and keep walking in faith make something beautiful. Since my husband’s death, I’ve looked at the mountain of ties he left behind. After our three sons and their sons got the ones they wanted and after I gave some as mementos to Steve’s close friends, there were still a couple of hundred left; each one held a story and a memory and maybe even a spot or two.  I couldn’t bring myself to put them in with the mountain of clothes I donated to Hospice Thrift Store.

Steve was quite the dresser.  He took great pride in his appearance, not for himself, but he felt compelled to put his best self forward in every way when he entered the pulpit to preach. (He also told me he wanted me to be proud of him and his appearance.) Therefore through purchases and gifts, he left behind a storybook of ties.  I decided to preserve some of them by using them in a quilt. I let every family member, who chose to, sew one on the backing. Now that the quilt is complete, albeit far from perfect just as each of us is far from perfect, I look at it and many sagas surface.

There’s the red neat pattern one he wore toward the end when he preached his last sermon –perhaps the best one ever – on faithfulness.  There are many seasonal ones he loved, just as he loved Christmas, Thanksgiving and Easter gatherings of the family.  There is even a baseball tie. I think he dreamed of running the bases once again, as he did when he was in high school, or at least of how he would have loved to have run them. His coach always told him he had better hit the ball hard because when he ran, he ran in the same place for too long. I also remember, when I see it, the time we gathered all the family together in Atlanta for a Braves game.  Rain was predicted and as we started out of town, the clouds gathered.  I told him to stop at a dollar store so I could go in and buy plastic ponchos for everybody.  They were out, but they had a bin of red-checked plastic table clothes.  I bought all of them.  I was laughed out of the park by the family when the drizzle began and I pulled them out of the sack.  Everybody opted to just get wet rather than sit under a tablecloth, except for me.  In order show solidarity, Steve let go of pride and got under it with me.

The floral ones, which I never liked very much, he would wear in spring, especially for Mother’s Day.  Being the great gift-giver he always was, he would always present me with a nice gift.  I would say, “But I’m not your mother.”

He would reply, “But you have been the best mother in the world to our sons.” (He was one silver-tongued fox.) On one Mother’s Day, he entered the pulpit with his Bible and a children’s book.  I think I heard a few snickers at that. The giggles didn’t last for long, because as he honored mother’s he read the little book “Love You Forever.” There wasn’t a dry eye in the house then; grown husky men wept, every mom shed tears, and even the little ones were touched.  If you don’t know the book, buy it and read it; you’ll then understand. That began our signing cards and notes to each other, Love you forever.

I could go on, but will stop. When I look back on our lives, I realize how God took two teenage kids who loved each other, loved Him, attempted to put the needle in the Master’s hand, and He made something beautiful.  I praise God for His faithfulness, for Steve’s faithfulness, and for allowing me to be just a piece of His master plan. The quilt hangs in my foyer a little lopsided, off center and imperfect, just as we are, but when we turn our imperfections  over to him, He makes something beautiful of our lives.

Colossians 3: 14 – 15 Above all, put on love—the perfect bond of unity. And let the peace of the Messiah, to which you were also called in one body, control your hearts. Be thankful.

Psalm 143:8 Let me experience Your faithful love in the morning, for I trust in You. Reveal to me the way I should go because I long for You.Life is like a patchwork quilt. Each piece by itself doesn’t mean much, but when it is finished, the masterplan is revealed. Putting one piece together with another and just keeping on, putting one day together with the next and keep walking in faith make something beautiful. Since my husband’s death, I’ve looked at the mountain of ties he left behind. After our three sons and their sons got the ones they wanted and after I gave some as mementos to Steve’s close friends, there were still a couple of hundred left; each one held a story and a memory and maybe even a spot or two. I couldn’t bring myself to put them in with the mountain of clothes I donated to Hospice Thrift Store.
Steve was quite the dresser. He took great pride in his appearance, not for himself, but he felt compelled to put his best self forward in every way when he entered the pulpit to preach. (He also told me he wanted me to be proud of him and his appearance.) Therefore through purchases and gifts, he left behind a storybook of ties. I decided to preserve some of them by using them in a quilt. I let every family member, who chose to, sew one on the backing. Now that the quilt is complete, albeit far from perfect just as each of us is far from perfect, I look at it and many sagas surface.
There’s the red neat pattern one he wore toward the end when he preached his last sermon –perhaps the best one ever – on faithfulness. There are many seasonal ones he loved, just as he loved Christmas, Thanksgiving and Easter gatherings of the family. There is even a baseball tie. I think he dreamed of running the bases once again, as he did when he was in high school, or at least of how he would have loved to have run them. His coach always told him he had better hit the ball hard because when he ran, he ran in the same place for too long. I also remember, when I see it, the time we gathered all the family together in Atlanta for a Braves game. Rain was predicted and as we started out of town, the clouds gathered. I told him to stop at a dollar store so I could go in and buy plastic ponchos for everybody. They were out, but they had a bin of red-checked plastic table clothes. I bought all of them. I was laughed out of the park by the family when the drizzle began and I pulled them out of the sack. Everybody opted to just get wet rather than sit under a tablecloth, except for me. In order show solidarity, Steve let go of pride and got under it with me.
The floral ones, which I never liked very much, he would wear in spring, especially for Mother’s Day. Being the great gift-giver he always was, he would always present me with a nice gift. I would say, “But I’m not your mother.”
He would reply, “But you have been the best mother in the world to our sons.” (He was one silver-tongued fox.) On one Mother’s Day, he entered the pulpit with his Bible and a children’s book. I think I heard a few snickers at that. The giggles didn’t last for long, because as he honored mother’s he read the little book “Love You Forever.” There wasn’t a dry eye in the house then; grown husky men wept, every mom shed tears, and even the little ones were touched. If you don’t know the book, buy it and read it; you’ll then understand. That began our signing cards and notes to each other, Love you forever.
I could go on, but will stop. When I look back on our lives, I realize how God took two teenage kids who loved each other, loved Him, attempted to put the needle in the Master’s hand, and He made something beautiful. I praise God for His faithfulness, for Steve’s faithfulness, and for allowing me to be just a piece of His master plan. The quilt hangs in my foyer a little lopsided, off center and imperfect, just as we are, but when we turn our imperfections over to him, He makes something beautiful of our lives.
Colossians 3: 14 – 15 Above all, put on love—the perfect bond of unity. And let the peace of the Messiah, to which you were also called in one body, control your hearts. Be thankful.
Psalm 143:8 Let me experience Your faithful love in the morning, for I trust in You. Reveal to me the way I should go because I long for You.