Sewing Seeds

Sometimes there are just too many options.

I like to sew and, for a while, I’ve been thinking of blogging as I work through my stack of sewing projects. I even started a new blog, but now, after contemplating my many other responsibilities including a husband, six children, homeschooling, home-keeping, the actual sewing, this blog, and a large writing project (just to name the most important), I’m not sure I can keep up with another separate blog.

My solution – for now – is to create a special post category for all my posts on sewing.

I stewed for a while trying to find just the right name. Quite frankly, I agonized over it as I would one of my babies.

My first thought was Sewing for Dummies since I feel like a dummy sometimes when I sew, but I know that you are not a dummy, and I didn’t want you to think that I thought you were.

My second thought was Simple Sewing. I can’t do anything complicated – the thought of a zipper gives me the heebie-jeebies – so I knew I wanted to stay simple. I didn’t think you would have time for complicated either. And there are plenty of other websites and blogs where you can find help with quilting or tailoring or making your own buttons.

My third thought was Sew What. As in, so what in the world am I going to post? I was afraid, though, that some readers might perceive that title to have the attitude of I-don’t-care. Sew So, I crossed that one off my list.

I really liked A-hem, but, although I obviously would like readers / followers / groupies (wouldn’t you?), I didn’t want to sound ego-centric.

Then, I heard that whisper. You know – the one that gives you goosebumps. The Creator of the Universe.

Faith is a big part of my life, as it might be in yours, so I thought that should figure in to the blog as well. Thus, my hope is that the title, Sewing Seeds, will convey to you – a-hem – my desire to use my simple sewing to sew what will provide for my family, exercise my dummy creative muscles, save a little money, and teach my daughters to sew. We might also explore a little about God and how He works in our lives.

So now, when you see a post title of Sewing Seeds, you’ll know what it’s about. (And the other blog is there whenever I might need it.)

Do you sew? What project are you working on now?

Who Needs Toys?

Who needs toys . . .

when a Tupperware cabinet . . .

will do?

Peace for This Year

I don’t know how He’s going to do it, but the Lord is going to help me work on peace this year.

When I wake up late and the whole day seems off-kilter . . . peace.

When I have to instruct the children for the same task over and over . . . peace.

When my husband is late home from his long day at work and I’ve been with six children without reinforcements for 12 hours . . . peace.

When a passing comment hits me hard . . . peace.

When I hear a bump in the darkness of night . . . peace.

When He tells me to go ahead and I want to hang back . . . peace.

When it is hard to submit . . . peace.

When my plans don’t work out . . . peace.

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6-7

"These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

What is He going to help you work on this year?

“Don’t Look Too Close”: An open letter to the woman at Macy’s

Dear Ma’am:

I suppose it shouldn’t have bothered me that much. But I stewed over it, and that always makes things worse.

We had been having a good time – my husband, myself, and our six children. We had shared a snack and shopped at Sam’s Club. (We love that there are enough of us to buy the #10 size can of green beans.) We went to the Lego store to daydream but eventually succumbed to the Pick-a-Brick cup. We had plans to spend our Half-Price Books gift card.

The baby – he’s almost one year old already – had been so patient and good. Like babies do, he had leaned out of the stroller to run his fingers over the merchandise as we rolled past, arched his back a few times to test the strength of the restraining strap, and fussed a bit to seek a comforting word from us. It had been a long day for him, and he was hungry and tired.

We headed for the Macy’s restrooms, remembering the women’s lounge where I might be able to nurse the baby while my daughters used the facilities. It was not a comfortable place – the chair seat was too high and the white tiled walls were the same as inside the stalls – but I thought it might be a gender-private place where I would not make anyone uncomfortable with my nursing.

When I first sat down, the lounge was empty, but a line quickly formed and snaked its’ way past me toward the door. You were with a friend, or maybe a sister, sharing pinched expressions as you fingered your pearls. My baby was not nursing well with all the distraction, but it was twenty degrees outside and our van was cold. I had practiced nursing discreetly many times at home, my husband assuring me that he couldn’t see anything even when he was looking. I was doing my best, trying to soothe a fussy baby.

And then I heard you speaking to your friend in a low tone.

“Don’t look too close.”

I appreciate that you tried to keep me from hearing you.

But I did.

And I still don’t understand what could possibly have been so terrible for you to see. Is this not one of the many reasons why God designed the female body as He did – to nourish a baby?

It grieves me that this has become the one unacceptable function of the female body.

If you are like most people, you go to the swimming pool in the summer with your bikini or, at most, a one-piece swimsuit.

If you are like most people, you watch television and movies and view images or videos on the internet that are incredibly inappropriate and perhaps contain wardrobe malfunctions.

If you are like most people, you shop at the mall a lot more often than I do where you see seductively-posed undressed mannequins and larger-than-life size obscene advertisements.

Why is it acceptable to wear a shirt so tight that I can see the outline of your form but it is not acceptable for me to nurse my baby discreetly in the privacy of the women’s lounge?

When did we become a people so stuck on ourselves that we cannot see the needs of helpless babies?

When did we become such profane prudes?

I apologize that I did not think to pray for you then. I admit I was flustered; you may have noticed how quickly I left the restroom. But as I write this, I am praying for you now. And I am praying for myself, that I might learn to speak the truth in love.

May God bless you richly as you draw near to Him,

Meghan

Seven Warning Signs That You Need to Do Laundry

1.      Your seven-year-old son’s socks are crusted to his feet.

2.      Your dish towel has spaghetti sauce spots on it and you haven’t had spaghetti since last week.

3.      You don a surgical mask when you open the hamper.

4.      The laundry pile topples over and smothers the dog.

5.      You don’t have any underwear left in your drawer.

6.      Your toddler’s shirt retains his shape when he takes it off.

7.      Your closet echoes.

Disclaimer:      Some of the points listed may or may not contain references to actual events. While this blog makes every effort to provide accurate and complete information, this data may not apply to every person or every situation. Please note that this blog does not control and cannot guarantee the relevance, timeliness, or accuracy of these seven warning signs in each individual situation.

How do you know it’s time to do laundry?