Ladies By Design

Sewing Ladies

I have always been surrounded by ladies who were passionate about sewing, crafting, quilting, and more. Twenty years ago I tried to master my little pink sewing machine but we didn't get along. I managed to produce a few 4H projects but in my heart I wanted to be riding bikes with the boys. Being girly just didn't seem to be as exciting and pink wasn't really my color.

Interestingly, Ladies By Design has turned into a gathering of girly on Thursday nights in Midlothian, Texas. It all started when Aunt Betty decided to restore and bling jean jackets. Ironically the jacket we rescued is accented with fuchsia. Yes, pink! Then Aunt Betty remembered a few vintage apron patterns tucked away in her sewing stash. Suddenly we had a gathering of women at her home with a desire to sew aprons...including me.

As it turns out, aprons are very popular. I had no idea how popular. Of course, the movie Julie & Julia certainly gave aprons a boost along with sophisticated cooking programs. By the time we learn how to piece together our aprons they may be out of style. But it's my hope that all things ladylike stay in style for good. For now we are just having fun gathering. I love it when one of us is baffled (like Traci was in this picture). It's not long before a more experienced lady has a solution. Corporate America calls it collaboration. We just call it sisterhood.

Our sewing comes second to laughing. Peggy and I have shared our horror stories when it comes to learning not so much what to do as what not to do. For example, when cutting a pattern "Don't cut outside of the black line!" And Peggy is an expert in ripping out seams. Her daughter, Janine, is passionate about sewing. She is a sixteen year old crafting genius. Part of the joy in gathering comes from sharing our lives from generation to generation. I am thrilled that Janine has far more confidence in her crafting abilities than I did at her age. I love being able to encourage her to stay true to what she loves and resist giving up like I once did.

Living as Ladies By Design is a challenge to embrace what may appear uncomfortable. For me it was easier to hang out with the guys. I still enjoy being a tomboy and getting dirty. Hanging out with the ladies was a scary and perplexing thought. That is until I gave it a try. I would have never thought I of all people would be a part of a sewing gathering but here I am. To top it all off, my mom was quite shocked when I called to tell her I was wearing hot pink nail polish. My how things change but that is living as Ladies By Design! I dare you to be open to change and be open to the ladies in your life if you aren't already. Keep an eye out for those around you who may feel uncomfortable hanging out with the gals. I'd bet that deep in their hearts they long for female companions as I once did. If you are in the South Dallas area and would like to sew with us please consider yourself invited! As you can see, you are welcome to come as comfy as you like...house slippers and all!

 

Prodigal Ladies

It's funny how the road curves and bends along this journey called life. Last night I found myself sitting on the floor between my husband and my brother at a worship concert. The band was taking a break and a young man had taken the stage to share the story about a song he had written. He was a great looking guy and one that any girl would have been proud to stand by. Of course, he hadn't always looked that way. He was every inch the prodigal son. Something he said while describing the dungeon of a life he lived caused me to remember what my life was once like. 

Remembered moments used to catapult me into places of deep grief. I am happy to say that these days I remember those days without the pain. It is truly a miracle to be able to look back at the girl I was and the things I said and did—without shame, blame, or guilt. I was broken as so many of us gals have been and still are.

Flawed and imperfect we are. Yet, lovely and full of life we are. In my darkest times my aunt would say "As long as you are breathing there is still hope." Yes, hope. The thing is, if you are like me, you may have a tendency to alienate yourself from the very people you need in hopeless times. Alone, I would be taunted again and again by dark voices saying "You are hopeless" and I believed it.

The turning point for me came at my breaking point. I could not fall any further. I bankrupted myself in every imaginable way. And then came freedom when I surrendered. I finally understood that I could never ever put all of my pieces back together. I could never fix all that had gone wrong. But that wasn't the end of the story.

Love found me and loved me just where I was. Love loved me just as I was. Over time, and through the love of a few loving ones I learned that Love was, Love Is, and Love is to come. I've come a long way along this journey. Last night, I couldn't help but look over at my brother and smile in awe because he too has learned that Love was, Love Is, and Love is to come. We used to hate one another now we have both been changed by Love.

Later in the evening I was compelled to search for a long lost friend of mine. As you can see in the picture above we were two goofy gals who loved each other very much. We also hurt each other very much. Such is the nature of our human hearts in the absence of true Love. Over the years I've tried finding her to no avail until last night—a very special night—I finally found her. I was hesitant because I knew she would remember the girl I was. I was afraid because she had good reason to reject the girl I was. Despite my fears in hope I reached out.

You see, living in hiding is no way to live. To be sure, there are "friends" that we need to release. If a person is hurtful to you or toxic to be around, it is okay to say goodbye. That being said, if you find yourself hiding from your past, I encourage you to find a safe place, a safe gathering, a safe friend that cares about you and will help you to be revealed to the world once again as the beautiful person you are. Every so often I would worry about what someone would say if they found me. Would they ridicule the lady I have become? Would their memories disqualify me from the life I now have? If you wonder the same thing, let me assure you that Someone greater will defend your honor and be the champion of your heart. I could have been rejected by my friend but I wasn't. She loved me then and loves me now because we are both flawed and imperfect and yet lovely and full of life. We are—all of us—prodigal ladies and loved.

 

My Friend, Kathy

This has been a very different day. Early this morning I awoke to a song. I wake up with a song in my heart nearly everyday. Usually the song is a praise song that I've heard on the radio or during worship service. I noticed the slight difference in this morning's tune. Instead of Israel Houghton's "I am a friend of God," I woke up to Kenny Rogers. I could hear the melody of "She believes in me." Only, the words were "I believe in you." That one line replayed over and over again:as I wrestled with the sheets, ate my usual bowl of Blueberry Frosted Mini-Wheat's and lathered myself in the shower. Twelve hours later, I was suddenly reminded of that early morning song, so full of hope, and I am compelled to share a little about my friend, Kathy.

Just a couple hours ago I received a call from my pastor. He had just received word that Kathy had passed away yesterday. He and I worked closely with Kathy over the last couple years. Kathy was a facilitator for an organization called The Pacific Institute. Kathy was a brilliantly bright teacher as you can see above. Moreover, she was a genuine friend. Kathy was nearly always bursting with the three finest qualities in life: faith, hope and love. I can't believe I am writing this right now: I can't believe she is gone.

In person, I experienced Kathy's warmth and professionalism during our yearly seminars. I never did get to observe her in a family setting. Someday my husband and I planned to visit her and her family in Aloha, Oregon. She lived on a hazelnut farm and her husband put up thousands of Christmas lights during the holidays. Kathy was absolutely in love with her grandson, Jake. She had a mother's passionate love and tender concern for the well-being of her daughter, Danyel. Kathy was a true lady who lived her life by design: loving her family and friends without restraint but always with respect.

The news of her untimely passing has left me heartbroken. I don't think I've been touched by death for a very long time. I feel robbed. The world has been robbed. Kathy was one of the good guys. She was on my team. She was on everyone's team. There are few people in the world that truly look for the good in everyone. So, why did we have to lose her?

A few moments after hearing that we had lost Kathy, my first thought was that Kathy had called and I had forgotten to return her call until a week later. Was she too sick to call me back by then? She had sounded a little different on the voice-mail. Oh, why didn't I call her back right away? I didn't know she would be gone so soon. Then, I suddenly remembered that I had just cleaned out my emails. Kathy had sent me so many emails filled with encouraging thoughts, messages of hope and affirming words. I deleted them all never thinking that they would be the last I would ever get. I don't even have any pictures of Kathy. How will I remember her? Oh, why did she have to leave?

They say that she had been ill with flu-like symptoms over a period of fourteen hours and then suddenly she was gone. Her heart had failed her. I am sure she had put her heart to the test during her lifetime. Kathy cared deeply, very deeply. Perhaps we rely too much on the Kathy's of the world. Speaking honestly, I know I have. I can get so very busy and spread my cares so thin. Honestly, I know I wasn't really a friend to Kathy as much as I could have been. Recently she was troubled with a gret deal of "challenges": serious health issues. How much did I really pray for her and her family? Not nearly enough. Kathy valued me for my tenacious transparency and wisdom. If I am to live up to her belief in me, I must admit that deep down I didn't open myself fully to loving her as a friend because I was afraid of the pain left in the wake of love lost. What a lesson to learn. She is gone and my heart is broken. Kathy lived in the deep waters of love. Even though those waters can be dark and tumultuous at times, she was determined to live free. If she were in my shoes right now, it wouldn't be long before she'd find a way to learn, grow and become a better woman in the midst of pain. Moments like these test our faith. Will I continue to wade in shallow waters where I have a sense of safety or will I finally dare to launch into deep waters?

A few moments ago I was hunched over: bent by another wave of grief. It was a selfish moment, really. All I could think was, "Who's going to believe in me now?" I know that I have many people in my life that believe in me. However, Kathy was different. She was unabashedly affirming. I truly believe that I received more praise, compliments and honor from Kathy that I have from any one person. She had a way for really seeing people. Most of the time we filter out the actual person and retain our perceptions, beliefs and theories. Not Kathy, she saw the essence of my value: as well as the value of countless others. How many times did I exercise my affirming muscles in return? Not nearly enough but Kathy would say there's still time left.

One of Kathy's gifts shines bright now. In the past few months I have been extending my wings as an apprentice "caring person." Several new friends have taken residence in my heart much as I was invited into the safe harbors of Kathy's heart. I always looked forward to our chats. Kathy encouraged me to talk. She posed insightful questions designed to cause me to think for myself. Our earliest chats revealed a common struggle we both shared: a challenge as she would say. We bonded in our transparency. Through her influence I've grown the strength to reveal myself to many others. I think she would be proud to know that her influence is growing even in her absence. I just wish I had taken the time to tell her how much she meant to me.

I was pretty young when my grandfather died. For some reason, I felt responsible for his death. It was a childish concern stemming from a healthy dislike of going to my grandparents house after school. They had retired to a small trailer home and I wanted to be out exploring: not watching boring soap operas. I remember leaning onto the wooden porch railing looking at the night sky. I had just read a book about someone who experienced loss like me. My recollection is foggy but the theme of the book involved a shooting star. That night, as I gazed into the mourning night, I saw my own shooting star. Suddenly, I felt remembered and loved. Tonight, in the wake of another wave of grief, my heart beat to my morning song, "I believe in you." At that moment, I wondered if Kathy had requested to sing to me this morning. Suddenly, I knew that I am remembered, loved and designed to live in greatness: just as Kathy always knew I would. Over and over, I could hear the words, "I believe in you."

Perhaps I am being silly. On the other hand, what if Kathy was singing to me this morning to prepare me for the coming mourning? What if our hearts continue to sing our life-song after we are gone? What songs will your loved ones hear in your absence? I know that Kathy has lived a life that has pleased her Maker. May we all like with such courage! May we all impart faith, hope and love into the lives of those around us. May it ever be that we embrace each other, as we are, looking forward to experiencing the greatness emerging from within our hearts. I believe in you. What a wonderful song. I believe in you. Oh, don't you know how much I believe in you?

Out of the blue, a friend sent a scripture to me this morning. It describes Kathy well. It also well defines her legacy for us all. And the work of righteousness will be peace, and the service of righteousness, quietness and confidence forever (Isaiah 32:17).