Oh my Heavenly Father, I come in humble prayer.
Not to beg for miracles, just strength to not despair.
If I fail to see your wisdom, give me faith to never doubt it.
Help me bear the cross you send, and not complain about it.
I memorized this when I was 12 or 13 years old from my favorite Helen Steiner Rice book and I used to repeat it over and over to myself during my childhood struggles.
It still pops into my head at odd times. Like when I'm unconscious. And often when I'm conscious too.
Lately I've been thinking of it as I look around and notice all the suffering and struggling going on around us.
Church was beautiful on Sunday. Even though I was starving to death I was deeply touched by all the testimonies (including my husband's (YAY!))
Our 2nd counselor, Bro K's, mother passed away a few weeks ago. She had cancer for 10years and he and his family have been taking care of her through all of her health struggles. Bro K bore his testimony and told us that one of the last things his mother said to him was "Thank you for being patient with me."
He said he looked right back at her and said, "Thank you for being patient with me." He spoke about his newborn daughter who cries every night and he spoke of how our children can often be a source of irritation and exhaustion, and how they require large amounts of patience.
I thought of how patience can be a form of healing.
I thought of Pat! She has been trying to care for her son who had hip surgery a year ago. It's been a long, arduous, complicated, expensive trial for both of them with no end in sight, which has required a lot of patient. Ah, the patience of Pat!
I thought of our Elder's Chorum president and his wife. A young, vivacious man with two toddlers--always the first person to help anyone in need. Two weeks ago he was stricken with a really rare virus that I can't spell and don't want to look up, which left him temporarily paralyzed. He's been in the hospital getting dialysis. He's been at home flat on his back, unable to control his body, his life, crazy afraid it won't go away, or worse yet, that he will stop breathing and die.
My husband and I walked over and spent some time with him on Sunday night. We were deeply moved by his emotional stories of loneliness and fear. I realize that his emotional suffering has been as great as his physical suffering. Which is often the case for all who suffer.
The Magic Quilt can help with the emotional suffering, if not the physical.
We've got to get this Magic Quilt done, peeps!
So I dug through all my wicker baskets and guess what I found? Tons of fabric. Magic fabric. I found all my old curtains that I made when was cute and crafty and my kids were little. My mom and I seriously made curtains for every room in the house. And I found all the left over fabric from the days when I used to make scrapbooks and cover them. And I found some pillow covers my sister made for me out of her huband's old shirts.
Just think of all the magic this fabric holds. My curtains are infused with compassion (They saw my whole mid-life crisis.) My scrapbooks hold my story. And those pillows offered rest to our weary heads for almost 10 years
So I spent the weekend washing them with LoW's magic laundry detergent recipe. Then I dried them with Downey. Then I ironed them with love sweet love.
And then I sprinked pixie dust on them and did a rain dance around them and fed them chocolate kisses so they'd be 100% enchanted.
I will now send them out into the world with a wink and a nod, (and my favorite Helen Steiner Rice prayer.)
Here's a sampling of the fabric: