I’ve always loved quilts. I’m amazed at how a quilter can take separate pieces of material and turn them into one beautiful creation.

The definition of a quilt is simple – a bed coverlet of two layers of cloth filled with padding held in place by ties or stitched designs.

I’ve found from experience that the more stitches or ties that are binding the pieces together – the longer the quilt lasts.

Several years ago I sewed a quilt for Matt’s bed. It looked nice at first – but since I made it very quickly, the few ties that I put in to hold it together soon broke in the strain of use.

I have another quilt that my Grandma made for me during my college years. She carefully tied it every few inches making a tight and warm covering that has stood the test of time and is still being used today.

One quilt lasted and one didn’t.

Marriage is like a quilt.

It begins as two separate lives that are bound together by a vow.

Then the process of “quilting” begins.

A good quilter knows that many small stitches hold better than a few big ones. The same is true of marriage. It’s the little things in daily life that will make a marriage strong.

Little things that say “I love you and you are important to me.”

Things like – getting up early to make your husband breakfast and packing his lunch before he leaves for work.

And getting the special “thank you – I appreciate this” look while he holds your hand and blesses  that breakfast.

It’s when your husband puts a CD in and immediately goes to your favorite song, or when he gives you all the M & M’s from his trail mix, or takes the dish towel from you and sends you to the couch to rest.

It’s letting your husband eat the last piece of apple pie, or choose what to watch on TV, or sleep undisturbed in the recliner on a Sunday afternoon.

It’s a kiss when they leave and a kiss when they return.

It’s a phone call at lunch break, a back rub, a shared joke.

It’s taking time to really listen.

It’s putting their needs ahead of your own.

It’s those little things.

Stitch by stitch. Everyday. Binding your hearts together.

Blow me a kiss from across the room
Say I look nice when I’m not
Touch my hair as you pass my chair
Little things mean a lot

Give me your arm as we cross the street
Call me at six on the dot
A line a day when you’re far away
Little things mean a lot

Don’t have to buy me diamonds and pearls
Champagne, sables or such
I never cared much for diamonds and pearls
’cause honestly, honey, they just cost money

Give me your hand when I’ve lost the way
Give me a shoulder to cry on
Whether the day is bright or gray
Give me your heart to rely on

Send me the warmth of a secret smile
To show me you haven’t forgot
For always and ever, now and forever
Little things mean a lot

]]> http://www.bluejeansandcottontees.com/the-little-things/feed/ 6 http://www.bluejeansandcottontees.com/looking-back/ http://www.bluejeansandcottontees.com/looking-back/#comments Sat, 31 Dec 2011 16:21:28 +0000 Country Gal http://www.bluejeansandcottontees.com/?p=6001 In just a few hours 2011 will be history.

It will be time to take down the calendar that has graced my refrigerator for the last 365 days – with its curled corners, loose pages and food stains.

For the past year it has recorded important birthdays, visits, and trips. It has reminded us of appointments, kept us organized, and recorded our days.

Days that were full of activity.

Laughter.

Tears.

Excitement.

Uncertainty.

Joy.

Pain.

In it’s place I’ll hang our brand new – spotless – calendar. It’s pages empty and waiting.

What will those pages record?

What will the next 366 days bring?

Whatever comes our way in 2012, I can rest assured that God is still in control.

Just as He was in the last 365 days.

Psalm 90:12 “So teach us to number our days, so that we may apply our hearts to wisdom.”

Wishing you all a blessed and Happy New Year!

Except it didn’t look quite like this. Actually, parts of it were falling off.

Which is why most people had driven right by.

But not us.

We knew a treasure when we saw it – even if it was in rough shape.

And we knew just who to call to bring it back to life – Jan’s dad – otherwise known as Poppa.

Poppa is a retired Air Force Colonel who loves to tinker in his shop restoring things.  His daughters-in-law keep him busy with our finds and he has never told us that something was too far gone to be saved – at least not yet.

I knew that this was just the sort of project he would love.

And he did!

He carefully cleaned, glued, replaced, nailed and polished until our curbside find was once again a treasure.

Restored and sitting in my sun room, it’s scratches, stains and other imperfections are now part of it’s beauty, almost a badge of honor.

It reminds me of another restoration – the one done in our hearts.

Stained and scarred by sin and left on the curbside as trash – the Master Restorer carefully cleans, replaces the broken parts, and restores us to a place of honor at His feet.

No life so far gone that His loving hands can’t put it back together, our scars and imperfections now a thing of beauty.

Psalm 23:3 “He restoreth my soul..”

Three.

This isn’t the only time I’ve seen something like this.

A recent sweep of the refrigerator yielded 2 ketchup bottles, 3 Ranch dressing bottles, 3 Hershey’s syrups and a couple of barbecue sauces – all empty.

There was an empty shampoo bottle in the bathtub and both toilet paper holders had a new roll sitting on top of the empty cardboard tube.

And – there was an empty corn flake box in the pantry. What’s with this? Are we expecting the corn flake fairy to refill it?

I think my kids may have an aversion to throwing things away.

Or maybe <gasp> they learned this behavior from me.

In my efforts to be super frugal I might just have gone overboard teaching them to get every little bit of chocolate out of each Hershey’s bottle before it was forever lost in the garbage.

Maybe cutting the bottles in half and using a spatula might have been a bit extreme.

Looks like I may need to temper my frugal lessons with a little Ecclesiastes 3:5 “…a time to keep and a time to throw away…”

Meanwhile – I have added garbage collector to my job description.

But at least I can take comfort in the fact that at least they still need me.

As I sat in her memorial service and watched slide after slide of her life flash by on the screen and listened to friends and family share stories – I remembered again why I respected Kathy so much.

She did the right thing – even when it was hard.

Years ago she saw that her only granddaughter was in an abusive situation and she stepped in.

She voluntarily took on a very needy 3 year old and loved her.

While other ladies her age were taking trips – she was potty training.

While others had extra spending money – Kathy was paying for new shoes, new glasses and new clothes.

While others enjoyed Bingo and club meetings – she was helping with 4H projects and figuring out how to home school.

She took that little girl from a neglected toddler, through childhood, adolescence and the teen years.

She invested her time, her resources, her life into that young child.

I saw that little girl at the service. Becky is now in her twenties and finishing up college – a poised, mature and beautiful young lady with a strong faith,  her grandma’s big smile, her love of life and that same mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Kathy invested her life in what was most important and the dividends are eternal.

It makes me wonder if I’m that willing to do the hard thing?  I want to labor for the Lord – but am I willing to get my hands dirty? Am I willing to give up my time? My home? My money? My plans?

I’d like to honor Kathy’s memory this Labor Day.

Her task was not easy, but she was faithful and her work was not in vain.

“Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.” I Corinthians 15:58

That statement is profound when you remember that the last 6 weeks of our lives have been crazy busy. We’ve been running at high speed with one big event following another leaving little time to catch our breath.

Little time to sit on the porch swing.

Little time to enjoy a sunset.

Little time to hold hands and listen to the night sounds.

The porch swing is our special place. Years ago when we were still dating, I mentioned to Jan how much I love porch swings.

A few weeks later he surprised me with a porch swing hanging in his little porch.

We spent many a date night swinging and talking.

It’s remained one of our favorite places over the years.

The swing is now gray and weathered. Some of it’s bolts are rusty, others are loose.  The seat sags a little in the middle. But we still love it.

It’s a reminder to slow down and enjoy the moment together.

To hold hands and watch the sunset.

To take a deep breath in the midst of the chaos and rest.

You know  – those little unexpected things that jolt your day and keep things from running smoothly.

It started with two nights of severe storms. I should say two sleepless nights since the weather radio was going off every 15 minutes all night long – both nights. It got so bad that even when the annoying beeping wasn’t going off – I could still hear it ringing in my ears.

It went on to include Driver’s Ed. for Pedro – including a revised driving schedule to work around.

Then there was the last minute 4H meeting to plan our clubs booth for the fair and a 4H photo shot for the special County Fair edition of our local newspaper with the kids holding their 4H projects – which they hadn’t even started yet!

Yes – that’s right – the county fair is only 2 weeks away – and we are really behind – as in – we never left the starting line!

It was slightly overwhelming.

Did I mention that the kids were sick, and that I ended up at the doctor’s office three times – each one an hour and half round trip?!

To top it all off – last night Buddy stepped on a pitchfork and put a tine clear through his foot.  <sigh>

As I got in the van this AM to take him into town for a tetanus shot  – the song “Blessings” by Laura Story came on the radio.

“We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things

Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise…”

It struck me once again that God’s blessing don’t always come in the form of sunny days and restful nights, in health and prosperity.

Sometimes God’s richest blessings come in the raindrops and tears of life.

Each day is a blessing from God – no matter what it holds.

Watching their faces light up as they held baby Rosie at church.

Seeing Emie spread her arms wide and shiver with excitement when she saw the lake. “Big water Aunt Linna, big water!”

Feeling their excitement over ice cream with chocolate sauce and M & M’s.

Catching Emie hiding in the tent with the entire bag of marshmallows stuffing them in her face as fast as she could.

Watching Katie feed the cow and then try to kiss it.

Can you imagine that just a few years ago Katie and Emie had never experienced a beach before? Had never eaten a marshmallow or known the joys of M & M’s?

I was struck with the wonder of adoption.

They talked a lot about home this week – especially about daddy.

“My daddy has whiskers.”

“My daddy works hard.”

“My daddy tickles me.”

“My daddy strong.”

“My daddy fix it.”

My daddy.

These two precious girls, rejected by their society because of their handicaps and living in an orphanage in the Ukraine, had no right to call him their Daddy.

He had no obligation to them – they weren’t his children.

But he had paid a great price, traveled many miles, and made them his own.

He chose them. Adopted them. Ransomed them. Loved them.

They are now his. They have every right to call him Daddy, to climb in his lap and snuggle, to sit at his table and eat, to grow and blossom – secure in his love.

“My daddy.”

What a beautiful picture of the heavenly Father’s love for me.

He paid a great price- his son’s life – to ransom me.

He chose me, adopted me, ransomed me and loves me.

I am his own.

“The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.” Romans 8:15

Abba Father.

My Daddy.

“And I’m proud to be an American,

where at least I know I’m free,

And I won’t forget the men who died who gave that right to me…”

Lee Greenwood

I will admit that I resisted its purchase for sometime. I told Jan that he really didn’t need another woman in the front seat telling him where to go.

I finally gave in just before our big Western Adventure. We set it to speak in an Australian accent and named her Matilda Garmin Shervheim – “Tilly” for short.

Tilly has proven to be quite helpful in locating campgrounds, directing us through large cities, pointing us to the nearest gas station and finding a Sonic at 2:00 for Slushie cravings.

But recently we discovered a weakness in our newest toy: she’s only as good as the information in her data base.

As Jan and I traveled along around northeast Iowa on our adventure day attempting to find a farm, Tilly took us on a wild goose chase. The map in my hand said we should continue going north but Tilly insisted that we turn around and head east.

She was adamant that we were heading in the wrong direction.

We muted her so we didn’t have to continually hear, “Recalculating. Recalculating. Please drive the highlighted route.”

Silly Tilly.

It was quite frustrating since I knew that general direction we needed to go and the map agreed – but  Tilly was quite clear that we were all wrong.

Her database just didn’t contain all the information for the gravel roads and off-the-beaten track places our adventures often take us.

Finally after driving over an hour up bluffs and through valleys – in desperation – we called the guy we were looking for and he led us out of the mess we were in.

The same thing happened during our latest adventure. Tilly was worth her weight in gold as we traveled through St. Louis – but once we got off the pavement she got quite confused.

We discovered that we can only trust Tilly when she knows where she is leading us.

Otherwise – we might as well mute her because her advise is worthless.

And so it is in life.

There are people all around us sharing advise, telling us what to do, giving us directions.

But do they know where they are going?

What’s in their database?

The only one we can fully trust to lead us is the One who has our entire life mapped out. He is the one who knows the past, the present and the future.

His data is never flawed.

Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you says the Lord, plans for good and not for evil to give you a future and a hope.”