Hello Friends:
This is a last minute post, so please... please show some compassion!
Welcome to this group of writers ... Spiritual Journey Thursday is our name. Today is hosted by Kim Johnson, who provided the prompt of "compassion."
I'm thinking about relationships and how they change over time. A thoughtless word or irritation can make the whole house of cards come down, or feel that it is coming down. But a spirit of compassion by one member can stitch it back together again. And how precious that compassion is. How it is more precious than gold.
This past year I started a sewing project, but then lost impetus. Stitching is trickier these days. My hand is unsteady. My patience grows thin. But a conversation with an old friend has changed my outlook. Her words and laughter were healing balms to me. I feel renewed, patched together. In many ways she has shown me great compassion, and her friendship is a deep blessing. One thing we touched on is our sewing. We're both still sewing, still have fabric waiting for us.
Today I came upon this poem by Irene Latham, and stitches begin to fall into place. Perhaps, for today, my words will be stitches. Perhaps I can be the one whose words show compassion. Perhaps I can hum and stitch as I go.
Mending
Today I am thankful for compassionate friends, kind words and laughter. I am thankful for this online community of writers. I am thankful for the challenge ahead.
Karen, your words remind us that when we are down or feel lie life is too much of a burden, a word or two for an encouraging friend is all that is needed to perk us up and get us going again. Life is a series of experiences stitched together into a patchwork. Each one is unique to the individual. Bob
ReplyDeleteI love how you connected compassion to sewing. Irene’s poem is a good one, how we should look at life as pieces of a quilt sewn together then dancing. Thanks for joining in with a post today.
ReplyDeleteThe sewing and quilting analogy speaks such volumes here, and it does because the larger fabric is in pieces but sewn back together like how a person feels shattered into pieces. Your post today reminds us that there is a way of holding it together - - getting back together piece by piece.
ReplyDeleteKaren, for a 'last-minute blog" - this is astounding! Even if not last-minute! How true, your words about relationships changing over time, and how they can be ripped apart in moments...yet they can also be painstakingly repaired. My husband, a pastor, always preaches "the hope in the text," to be found even in the most difficult passages of Scripture. I've had to learn that all will not be repaired in this life, but, by the grace of God, it's not the end of the story. My mother was a seamstress. I can see her in Irene's poem as plainly as if she had stepped out of my childhood memory. Pins in her mouth, fabric spread across the table, thin pattern paper rustling, scissors cutting with the sure and steady rhythm. She created beautiful things for people; her craftsmanship was extraordinary. After I was married with children, her mental health unraveled. The last years of my father's life were marked by futility in stopping the train wreck of my mother's destructive choices. She ripped the family apart at the seams. Even now, having reached a plateau of peace about what I could and could not do, I think of it all in disbelief. Even so...I believe in prayer. I gave my mother up to God when I could do no more. I believe in mending, not rending apart. I believe in compassion. And hope. Around the time I learned of my mother's death (randomly, as no extended family told me), I dreamed of her. She looked well. She held her arms out to me and said, "My baby has come home." That is my hope, after this life, for God is a God of restoration. Yes, on tis side of heaven we stitch where we can, and that golden thread is most certainly compassion. Thank you for this post. It means much to me.
ReplyDeleteBlessings to you, Karen, and thank you for including my poem in your lovely post. Poetry is prayer, too. xo. p.s. I love that quilt!
ReplyDeleteAmen. Yes, that seamstress. We are all her mending, mending, humming and mending. Last minute hasn't hurt the message at all. This is perfect. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteA stitch in time. Wonderful thoughts
ReplyDeleteI come from a line of faithful seamstresses, my grandmother, mother, sister. However, the gene skipped me and went to my daughter instead. I revel in the beauty of quilts stitched by others and rejoice in Irene's poem. How wonderful to have special time with a dear friend whose friendship is a deep blessing. I chuckled at these words: "We're both still sewing, still have fabric waiting for us."
ReplyDeleteAh Karen...such wisdom in your words! I am renewed in the encouragement on compassionate prayer. Yes, I can do that. And wow! Love Irene's poem! How beautiful that you can join your hands to needle and thread and find prayerful compassion. Thank you for sharing this reflection.
ReplyDeleteKaren, your blog brought some peace to me as I read. This line, "A thoughtless word or irritation can make the whole house of cards come down, or feel that it is coming down", was how I felt this weekend. There was an emptiness, inside me and on top of that my son is having anxiety attacks because he said he misses his father. I am thankful for your words and the image of stitching to mend our necessities. Wholeness is a goal.
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