An Eternal Thread

Today is my dad's birthday. This time of the year now holds mixed emotions for me. The changing weather brings all the old excitement of fall birthdays and activities, but there is a note of sadness now. A missing and remembering. I sometimes wish I could go back to the way things were. But being here, now, on this particular leg of my journey through life is a good thing, too.

When Dad died, I wallowed for quite awhile. I was truly at a loss for what to do to make it through the pain. I had, in years gone by, lost a dear aunt and two wonderful grandparents, but I was in much deeper water now. I felt I was drowning in grief. I find that as much as I have healed since then, I still have tears streaming down my face now, just recalling it. 

I did not always cry out to God when I was grieving my dad. I was not angry with Him. I have fully analyzed that to be sure. If I had been, we would have worked through it. He is not shocked by our anger, and He still loves us even when we're mad at Him. But I wasn't mad. I was just too tired to ask for help. I didn't feel like it. I just wanted to get away from everybody and go to sleep for a very long time. 

But after about nine months and some counseling, I was ready to do something. I was ready to touch the things that reminded me of him, and try something meaningful. So, as the fall weather settled in, I gathered up Dad's shirts and started cutting. I cut and pieced and cried. Every shirt was a memory--a look, a joke, a day in the life of someone I loved so much.

My dad never got rid of his clothes. When he got new ones, the old would go down in the basement. These would become his "worky hard" shirts, as he used to say to my little brother, Josh. They were his mowing the lawn, washing the car, lifting weights, cleaning his guns, and puttering around shirts. We had seen him wear these same shirts for 20 or 30 years. They were so familiar. They are still. I made three bags  out of them--one for each of us kids. 

Each square is a step back in time. See that brown one? That was a t-shirt he wore so many times, it was tissue paper thin. It had a piece of popcorn stuck to it that I found while cutting. Anyone might have thought I'd found a hundred dollar bill. I was so excited about that piece of popcorn. How old was it? What movie was he watching when it landed there? It made me remember the way he would laugh when he watched W.C. Fields or the Trinity Boys. He would eat popcorn, laugh until he cried, and then inevitably hiccup for awhile after.

 Man, I love that guy.

The inside of each bag is lined with his robe--the old, fuzzy robe he used to wear on Christmas mornings. Every Christmas morning, Dad put on his robe, made a pot of coffee, tuned the radio to Christmas music, and settled into his recliner to watch his family enjoy the Christmas fun. 

Making these bags was emotionally difficult, but it was a kind of therapy. It made me think of things from an eternal perspective, too. I was so struck by the reality that Dad is not wearing these clothes anymore. He has new ones. The Bible tells us that. At that point in my life, I had never used writing as an outlet, but I felt inspired to write something down about my time with Dad's shirts.

An Eternal Thread  

Your clothes...

were more than fabrics

or coverings.

After years of wearing,

they soaked up your personality and character

while you worked and played and loved and laughed.

They became a part of who you are.

The fabric of your life here was

quality...

good, strong, honest, faithful, and loving.

These pieces of cloth come together

to remind us,

to comfort,

to reveal something new...

We will always remember you in your Christmas robe,

but imagine you now

in a robe of righteousness

and a garment of salvation.

An eternal thread connects us now. 

**********
Before I move on, I just want to say this:  If you are grieving right now, did you know you are blessed? That doesn't sound right does it? Jesus said it, and so much of what He said seems really backwards. I did not feel blessed when I was grieving. I felt sad. I felt like the pain might rip my heart right open. But since Jesus said it, I feel it is worth examining a bit.

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted" (Matthew 5:4). I look at this verse, and think, "Yeah, well, I still would rather not mourn at all." It is hard. It is work. It drains. But then, how else could we know about His comfort? And that's where the blessing comes in. There is no comfort like the comfort of the Holy Spirit. That is part of His job description, and He is really good at it. The Father's heart is so tender toward us, that when we are hurting, I believe we become extra-special to Him. It is a privileged place to be. The Bible says that the Lord is close to the broken-hearted. Don't you give your own children or other loved ones extra time and attention when they are hurting? How much more He loves us! How much better and greater is His compassion towards us. I know, now, from experience what a blessing His comfort is. Though I would never choose grief willingly, I trust now that He is close to me when it comes again.

**********

After I finished the bags, I looked at my sewing machine and wondered what else it could do. I hadn't sewed since I was a kid in 4-H. I started cranking out stuffed animals for my kids, pillows for my couch, bags and purses for my friends, and clothes for Sara's dolls. I had discovered a fun new hobby. Look at this neat picture my friend Kris painted to hang above my sewing closet:

Sewing makes me feel connected to my dad somehow. And I like to pray for the people I am sewing for while the machine is whirring away.

So, to celebrate my dad's birthday,and because I can't give him a present, I made something to give to one of you! 

This is the Wild and Crazy Overnight Bag,

for any of you colorful gals who like to take an overnight trip every now and then.

So, if you'd like this bag for yourself or to give as a gift, just leave me one comment, and you may win!

You can tell me where you'd like to go overnight with this bag. Or if you are feeling deep and thoughtful, you could tell me what meaningful ways you have discovered to help you through a hurting time. Any old comment will do to get you entered! I hope you win.

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