Satisfying Sunday

Yesterday was a fairly good day.  At church, as I was moving through the communion liturgy, I could feel my throat about to crack, and sure enough, I went into a coughing fit.  Because I was at the words of institution, I felt weird about having someone else speak the words--Lutherans believe that only ordained or specially appointed ministers can consecrate the bread and wine.  I think it would have been fine, as long as I was there, but I don't really know how members feel.  So I drank some water, coughed a bit, and powered through.  People were kind.

I have spent most of the week wondering if I'm fighting off a cold:  I'm more tired and less hungry, and my throat has felt a bit scratchy off and on.  And I'm still not here.

I felt good about my sermon, although I'm aware of all the ways it could be improved; you can view it here on my YouTube channel and read it in this blog post).  We spent Sunday afternoon as we usually do, watching other people's sermons from churches where we feel a connection.  No one else preached on the Gospel.

I wanted something else of depth before we reverted to our usual viewing of old TV shows like Whose Line Is It Anyway?  We watched this podcast of David Brooks interviewing philosopher Meghan Sullivan. My spouse and I both have solid liberal arts educations along with graduate degrees, so it wasn't groundbreaking for us, but it felt nourishing.

I did some stitching in the evening so that I stayed awake past 7:15--success!  I'm making smaller squares, the first level of a log cabin square--but they're not all the same size.  I may put them aside and go back to the quilt I'm making for my cousin's first child who graduates from high school this year.

And now, another week:  week 6 at one school, week 3 at another.  We've got sanding to finish at the fixer-upper house.  The work at Faith Lutheran continues.  Onward!

Quilt Camp Confessions

At one point yesterday evening, as I began to despair at ever getting my huge quilt done, I thought of my grandmother.  When I asked her to teach me to quilt, she snorted and said, "Why would you want to quilt when you can just go to Wal-Mart and buy a blanket for six dollars?"

That price tells you how long ago it was.  And yet, that dismissal remains.  I think of how many people during Quilt Camp were astonished at my quilting by hand, by my quilting at all.  Most people at Quilt Camp send their project to their favorite long arm quilter and pay to have the quilting done.  And then they still need to do the binding to finish the quilt.

At times yesterday, I enjoyed the quilting with the multiple memories the fabric inspired:  the few bits from clothes my grandmother made me, the bit from the quilt I made for my now-grown nephew for his first big boy bed, the various squares put together in slightly different ways, my experiment with smaller and smaller scraps.  I thought of all the various friends who gave me their scraps.

I won't lie:  putting together the quilt top is my favorite part of any project, especially in the early days of a project where I don't have to worry as much about how it will all come together into a unified whole.

I was also running on fumes for much of yesterday:  I didn't sleep well because of achiness that comes from quilting for hours in strange positions, staffing the camp store, and an afternoon planning meeting that went long.  By evening, I was despairing, having not made the progress I was anticipating.

I still have some quilting time this morning, and I'm already at the point where I need to be, the point where I can finish the quilt from my living room.  It's the center part that needs to be stabilized before the rest can be done--and that part is much easier done the way I did it over the past two days.

I'm grateful to have had this time, but also a bit sad that I had to be so focused on this one project.  Of course, the next Quilt Camp is only 2 months away, so I don't need to feel sad at all.

First Full Day of Summer 2026 Quilt Camp

I've spent part of the summer finishing the process of putting together the quilt top for the quilt I hoped to be assembling during Summer 2026 Quilt Camp at Lutheridge.  

We've also been going back and forth on the size of the bed we plan to have once we move into the Spartanburg fixer-upper house we bought back in May.  We've finally decided on a king size bed, so I sewed the last panel back to the quilt top; back in July, I had taken that panel off when we changed our minds from king back to queen. Now we're fairly sure it will be a king size bed that we will buy. 

On my way to work on Tuesday, I stopped at Foam and Fabric--they sell wide fabric for quilt backs, and I decided that it was worth the cost so that I didn't have to sew the back together.

Yesterday morning, I was ready to start quilting.  Because Summer Quilt Camp has less attendance than other times of the year, I was able to use extra tables to make the quilting of the king size quilt easier.  I spread out the backing fabric and then the batting and then spent time figuring out how to position the top.

I spent yesterday quilting the middle of the quilt.  I wanted to make sure I got that part stabilized in case I couldn't complete the project during this retreat.

People dropped by my station to take a closer look.  Before I close up the project, I thought that I, too, should preserve a closer look.  I'm not only quilting by hand, but I also sewed the whole top by hand.

It's a lot of sewing, but it's usually done when I'm watching T.V.  or chatting.  It's often part of my self-soothing tool kit, which doing it by machine would not be.  I've also done other projects along the way.  It's taken a long time, but I haven't really noticed.

This morning, I went back to past blog posts, and here's the one where I see the project that inspired me, back in the Fall 2022 Quilt Camp.  By January, I had made some progress, documented in this blog post.    Along the way, a friend showed me that I didn't need sashing between the squares, and that decision made the assembly of the top much more fun.

I spent one Quilt Camp putting squares together on design boards in search of the perfect flow of colors, which I then sewed together, only to realize that I didn't really have enough for a queen size bed.  I sewed more squares, and when I returned to the project, I put squares together into long panels more randomly, which worked just as well.

Quilting is never my favorite part of the project, at least not bed-size projects.  It's hard on the fingers and the back--and other muscles too.  But with this project, I've had an unexpected benefit:  the chance to return to all those squares, to marvel at the differences in scraps included, to delight in all the colors and fabrics in this quilt.

Onward to Day 2!

Sewing on the Machine at Quilt Camp

Yesterday at Quilt Camp, I got out my sewing machine, which might surprise those who know me.  For much of my life, I've sewed by hand.  I'm still deeply committed to sewing by hand, particularly as a self-calming practice.  Stitching a seam by hand not only calms my brain but also settles my attention.

I am the only person at Quilt Camp who does most of her sewing by hand.  I don't have a sewing room, so if I'm sewing, it's likely at the kitchen table which is problematic for many reasons.  But honestly, for many reasons, I actually prefer to sew by hand.

So last night, after posting the below picture, I made this Facebook post:  "Those of you who know me, are you more surprised to find out that I'm still awake at 10 p.m. or that I've been sewing on a sewing machine all day at Quilt Camp?"

All of the piles of blocks behind me were stitched by hand.  But yesterday, I wanted one of the sewing machine experts to see if she could get the bobbin winder to work.  She could not.  So why did I keep sewing on the machine?

One of my Quilt Camp friends had won a batch of quilt blocks as a prize, which we both agreed was a strange prize for a quilt contest, and she was trying to figure out how to assemble them into charity quilts, her task assigned to her as she claimed her prize.  I offered to help.  Here we are, me showing her the long strips I decided to assemble:

I knew that getting the quilt top done during the retreat was my best hope of getting it done, so I just kept sewing and sewing.  And finally, at 9:20, as Duke was winning the basketball game that some of my Quilt Camp compatriots were watching, I did.  However, I forgot to take a picture of the finished quilt top. 

Soon I'll head back to Quilt Camp for the last morning.  I'll get my cloth organized so that I can keep sewing small scraps into log cabin squares, the sewing that I do in the evening as we watch T.V. together.  It's been a good Quilt Camp, but it's time to come back down from the mountain (and I'll be rejoicing that my trip home is very short).

Quilt Camp Midway Report

 Much of yesterday, I would have looked like this:

I've had one of those Quilt Camp weeks where I've had to balance the retreat and the other duties of my life.  Yesterday I had planned to go to the class I'm taking, Lutheran Confessions, by way of Zoom and come to Quilt Camp in the afternoon.  But my professor was having travel related disruptions, so we didn't have class.  I got several additional quilting hours in the morning--hurrah!

I made progress both on my own projects and on one of our group projects:

We were asked to take one of the paper doll forms and add fabric scraps to it to represent ourselves.  We've been putting them on the poster, and as we've been looking at our work, we've been praying for each other.

I loved making my self portrait in threads and fabric scraps:

I am tired, tired, tired.  Ordinarily I might say that I'm tired in a good way.  But last night, as my energy level crashed, I spiraled into a strange thought pattern, feeling like all of my fabric art is ugly, ugly, ugly.  What was that all about?

Part of it is being surrounded by other quilting artists who are all doing very different work from the work I'm doing:

My workspace is full of scraps, and the process of putting them into larger squares usually delights me.  The process still delights me, but I'm less sure how well it all works together.  I put some of my more varied squares together and felt despair.  I've got autumnal squares (think browns, coppers, oranges, yellows) and jewel tone squares.  Last night I thought, I've really got two quilts here--which might not be a bad thing.  But will I ever actually finish?

I'm also noticing a pattern in my larger life.  It's easy for me to do the individual parts, but harder to finish the larger project.  I thought about my writing life and all the poems I've written--but so few larger books.  

On the one hand, I take delight in the process, the creativity itself, the commitment to doing creative stuff every day.  On the other hand, I wonder how it might all be different if I focused on seeing a project through to the end.

Do I let myself off the hook too easily?  Should I be more rigorous?  If I decide I should be more rigorous, is it too late?

Let me remind myself of this article I read in The New York Times, an article that talks about Matisse in his later years, his last years, and an exhibition of his work from this time:  "The show includes more than 300 works on loan from around the world (with some exhibited for the first time) that demonstrate how wide the French master’s oeuvre stretched beyond his best-known paintings — to innovative drawings, gouache cutouts, illustrated books, textiles and stained-glass windows. It also challenges the conventional understanding of any artist’s 'late' years as an inevitable tapering off. Here, we see a blossoming, a relentless drive to experiment in new mediums and a radical simplicity that only a lifetime of making could achieve."

Quilt Camp Homily: the Prophetess Anna and Our Quilting/Spiritual Life

I gave the homily for our Saturday night Quilt Camp closing worship.  I wanted to take a minute and make a record of the experience before it slips away.

Our Bible verse was Psalm 91: 4, and we focused on the first part, about God covering us with God's feathers and sheltering us beneath wings.  We talked about wings and feathers and angels.  We had a prayer board in the shape of wings, and we had feathers where we wrote prayers.

I wanted my homily to go in a slightly different direction--what happens when we don't feel that sheltering space?  What happens when it looks like everyone else's prayers get answered and not ours?  How many of us feel too old for whatever might have once seemed to make us special?

We had begun the retreat by talking about where we had sensed the presence of angels, and I started my sermon by talking about the angel Gabriel appearing to Mary, but that's really a young person's story.  Can you imagine if Gabriel came to any of us with that possibility?  We'd say, "Hmm, mother of the Messiah--not really my calling thanks."  

So I thought about other people who make an appearance in our Advent and Christmas texts.  I thought about Elizabeth, who gets to be the mother of John the Baptist.  But she doesn't even get the angel message herself; it comes through her husband, who laughs at the idea that his very old wife might have a baby.  He's struck mute through the whole pregnancy for his disbelief.  But it's still pregnancy, still not everyone's idea of fulfillment.

I continued:  I call your attention to a bit later in the story, when Joseph and Mary bring the baby Jesus to the Temple.  Simeon has been promised that he will not die without seeing the Messiah, and he holds the baby Jesus, holding the light of the world in his arms.  But I call your attention to Anna in Luke 2:  36-38 (I read the text).  We may think of Mary Magdalen as the first evangelist, the first to tell of the empty tomb, but I've come to think of Anna as the first, as she goes out to tell everyone about the Messiah.

Of course, it's sobering to realize that by the time the Gospel of Luke was written, that very Temple has been destroyed, and it will be thousands of years before there will be another one.

Then I took the turn to quilting:  it's a bit like quilting.  Some of us have everything we need, the right material, the sewing machine that is up to the job.  Other times, we discover we didn't buy enough cloth, and it's no longer available, and we have to figure out what to do.  There are times we are given a quilt started generations before, and it comes with no instructions, and we have to figure out a way.  And we, too, will die.  Maybe someone else will complete our projects, maybe not.  But we continue to do what we can do.

The life of faith is like this.  Some times, everything goes well.  Other times, the sewing machine explodes.  But we are in a group that can keep us going, keep us encouraged, help us solve the problems.

I concluded with what I think is the most important thing to remember:  when we feel abandoned by God or abandoned by our quilt group, we're not.  God is still there, although we may not be able to hear God.  Even someone like Mother Theresa has felt this way, as we discovered, when her letters were published after her death.  Some people thought her doubt diminished her, but I felt just the opposite, this relief that if even someone like Mother Theresa feels doubt, then I shouldn't feel alarm when I feel abandoned.

The trick is to keep going, keep working on our quilts, keep believing until the time when it isn't so hard to keep going.

As I delivered the homily, I noticed a few people wiping their eyes.  I noticed people smiling and nodding--happily, I didn't see any angry expressions.

I felt good about my homily, and I got good feedback, from people who appreciated the brevity to those who appreciated the message which gave them hope.  But most importantly, I feel that my homily spoke to those who were feeling loss and grief, emotions that are never very far away, especially for those of us who are on the older side of life.

Quilt Camp Begins

 I am glad I was able to be here yesterday to help with set up for Quilt Camp.  We don't have to do the heavy lifting work, the getting the 90 tables in place in the Faith Center at Lutheridge.  But we did need to do the other work:  deciding where the cutting tables and ironing boards will be, putting plastic tablecloths on the tables in the worst condition, going out to get more plastic tablecloths, running extension cords from plugs to tables, and those kinds of things.

We also had to do the work that seems trivial but takes time:  putting nametags into plastic holders, putting those plastic holders on the table so that retreat members could find them easily, lots and lots of organizing of supplies.

By the time that everyone arrived and settled in, I was tired.  But it was a pleasant tired, a far cry from the tired that I feel after driving in from a distance for a retreat.  I got some sewing done, and today I hope to make serious progress on my big project:  a new quilt top for the quilt that we sleep under.  The quilt top is created.  I'll attach it to the old quilt and put on a new binding.  The quilt back is still in good shape.

It may seem like a strange approach, adding a new quilt top to an old quilt.  But in fact, it's a very old approach:  quilters in past centuries didn't have access to supplies that we do, so they used old quilts as the layer of batting in new quilts.

I also plan to make progress on my other big project, the log cabin quilt, the one I thought I might be able to finish back in March.  But when I stretched it on the bed, I realized I needed a few more rows.  I've been making log cabin patches, so we shall see.

We're having glorious weather, which is a gift.  I am leading a walk each day at 3, and if the weather this week was the rainy, cold weather of last week, we'd ditch those plans.  At Quilt Camp, we spend much of the day and night in a chair, and I spend it hunched over, which is my posture any time I'm in a chair. 

I am surprised to realize I took no pictures yesterday.   Happily there is still time.

Gratitude Before the Start of Quilt Camp

Quilt Camp starts today.  This time, unlike last Quilt Camps, I'm part of the leadership team.  I will help with set up today, I will deliver the very short sermon for Saturday closing worship, and beyond that, I'm not sure what being on the Quilt Camp leadership team means.

In the early days of summer, when I thought about Fall Quilt Camp, I thought I would head to Spartanburg today, do my teacher duties, and then arrive for Quilt Camp.  But as the semester has gone on, I've changed my mind.  My students can use today to get caught up, and I'd like to be a bit less tired when Quilt Camp starts.

I am so grateful to be working at a place where I have this kind of flexibility.  I am so grateful to be at a place where when I say, "I'll be leading a quilt retreat this week," and no one says, "What does that have to do with you as a teacher?  No, you can't be off campus this week."  I'm thinking of past bosses who made their disapproval known, even as I was using my personal vacation time to be away.

Make no mistake:  I do get teaching inspiration from retreats.  It may be a different kind of inspiration than I would get at a literary conference, but I am a different teacher, a better teacher, because I go on these retreats.

I am also grateful that I live closer to camp.  When I first heard about Quilt Camp at Lutheridge, back in 2018 or 2019, I lived in South Florida, a twelve hour drive if all the traffic went smoothly.   I was torn--on the one hand, it was a longer retreat, so the drive would be worth it; in those days, I never would have made the drive for a retreat that started Friday night and ended Sunday morning, as so many retreats did then.  But on the other hand, it was such a long drive.

Because I live here now, I have the best of several worlds.  I don't have a long drive.  I get to sleep in my own bed.  I don't feel like I'm abandoning my spouse or my other duties at home.  Of course, that benefit has a shadow side--it's also hard for me to completely disconnect on retreat.  But that was true of past retreats too.  My brain is always working at various levels, and it's hard for me to focus on just one.

This morning I realized another value to coming to Quilt Camp from my house that's less than a mile away.  I feel less pull to do the other area attractions:  apple orchards, fabric stores, and Appalachian arts and crafts.  At least my active brain will calm down around the other wonderful outings that I would want to be taking, if I didn't already live here.

On this morning of the day when Quilt Camp begins, I am most grateful to be feeling like my life is in better alignment than it was back in 2018/2019 when I thought about the possibility of coming to Quilt Camp and decided I couldn't make it work.

A Wonderful All Saints Sunday

 We had a great All Saints Sunday.  Much as people complain about the time change, every autumn when we turn the clocks back, I have a night of wonderful sleep.  This year was no exception.  Because of the time change, we were both up early, and we headed over the mountains to Bristol early.

It was wonderful to travel in the daylight, to see the trees in their full and fading autumnal glory.  This year, various trees are on their own schedule.  Some are still green.  Some have lost all their leaves.  There's every variety of in between.  It's not as full and blazingly beautiful as two or three years ago, but it's been a treat, especially considering last year.

I was glad for the extra time, because we had a lot to unload.  I knew that the confirmation class, and perhaps all the youth who arrived for Sunday school, would set up the space I envisioned for people to put photos and other mementos of loved ones who had died.  I brought all the supplies:  fabrics, fairy lights, candles (both traditional and electronic), candle holders, 2 yellow mums, and a small table.  I gathered 2 additional small tables from the sacristy.

The youth did a great job of working together to create the space.  They are two pairs of siblings, and the siblings are cousins, so we had a head start in working together.  They seem like the kind of cousins who are more like siblings, siblings who like each other and have fun together.  I was so impressed with what they created:

The congregation came through too--we had plenty of pictures, so many that we added two additional flat spaces (flipped boxes with white tablecloths to hide their identity).  

After church, we spent some time in the front, hearing stories of the loved ones whose pictures had graced our worship space.  I had made extra bread, and people ate bread or took some home.  It was delightful, a way of having a picnic with the ancestors.

My sermon went well, which is always a treat for me.  What I mean by well is not that everyone loved it, but that I felt good about my delivery (not too much reading, not getting tongue twisted).  If you want to view the recording, it's here on my YouTube channel.  If you want to read a version, head to this post on my theology blog.

We came home and relaxed, as we always do.  Sunday afternoons come after very full mornings, so we're not going to be doing much of substance.  We watched a great PBS show about a man who was taking a last trip on a buckboard wagon pulled by his 36 year old mule on their last trip in Hyde county, NC.  It was oddly compelling.  I did a bit of sewing on my quilt top and headed to bed.

Today I have two days of work, and the rest of the week is spent at Quilt Camp, just up the hill at Lutheridge.  I'll sleep in my house and spend the rest of my time at Quilt Camp.  I'm hoping to make progress on a variety of projects.

It sounds heavenly, and it will be, but first I have to do the prep work so that I can be gone from my full-time teaching job.  I am probably further along on that project than I think, but I feel a bit of anxiety.  At the same time, I'm sure it will all be fine.  It's nice to be at a school where I can rest easy in the knowledge that it will all be fine, even as I'm feeling a bit of anxiety.

A Good Week: Teaching and Sewing

It's been a good week, one that has left me a bit more tired than usual, but tired in a good way. 

We're at the end of the third week of in-person classes at Spartanburg Methodist College, and I'm happy to report that my classes are still in a collective good mood.  Yesterday, despite a bit of chaos at the beginning of class as I printed last minute submissions of rough drafts and rearranged the room, peer editing in my English 101 class went REALLY well.  Usually peer editing is a much more mixed event.

What's made it a tiring week is that I've been doing Quilt Camp on either side of teaching.  It's not ideal, but I'm glad to have had the time at Quilt Camp.  I've had a chance to spread out my fabric and remember what I was planning, back in May when I put fabric away as CPE was about to start.

I've been working on this quilt top:

I've been sewing strips to make it bigger.  I had planned to make this quilt completely random, but in fact, each strip has various smaller bits that go together.  I like how the whole quilt looks, and it's even more fun up close.  I've enjoyed sewing the strips, but as the quilt has gotten bigger, I've enjoyed it less.  

Note for the future:  I could sew the individual strips by hand, and then sew them all together on a machine so that the process goes faster.  Do I have a machine?  No.  One of the Quilt Camp folks is going to bring me a small machine to see if I want it.  Many people would not, because it can only sew two types of stitches, with no computer.  Plus it's small--she seemed to say that I could put it on a shelf.  We shall see.

In the meantime, I now will have some sewing to do in the evenings, as I try to stay awake until it's bedtime.  This kind of sewing can be more mindless than sketching in the evening or writing notes.

This Quilt Camp was promoted as a stripped-down Quilt Camp:  no teaching time, no planned excursions, no evening devotions/worship.  Fewer people have come, primarily because it's not a great time in August, the days leading up to the Labor Day week-end.  It's not great for me, because it's so early in the term, and I had already needed flexibility because of my mom's hospital scare and my need to be gone for a day to finish CPE.

But I'm glad I've made the effort.  It's been wonderful to have a chance to talk to people, to see other people's projects, to get inspired.  The quilt I'm working on has been inspired by this type of quilt, where the kind of small scraps that most people throw away have been sewed together into bigger blocks:

Here's an inspiration from this year:

Every square is different.  The quilter has followed a pattern, which boasts of 100 different squares.  I love the idea of following my own whimsey. 

I've enjoyed Quilt Camp, although it's been strange:  when I'm at school, I've almost forgotten that I had been sewing, and then when I've been at Quilt Camp, I've been immersed.  Wait--am I finally learning to exist in the present moment?

No, not really, although I am getting better at living in the present moment.  It helps to be living in a house and an area that we can afford, to have several jobs that I love, and that I'm not taking classes at the moment.  I am glad to be here in this place.

Quilt Camp Begins

Usually, Lutheridge offers Quilt Camp twice a year, once in the Fall and once in the Spring.  After the Spring Quilt Camp, where so many people were distressed that the Fall 2025 Quilt Camp was already full, leadership decided to offer a late summer addition and see if there was interest.

Of course, it's hard to know which stretch of time would be best.  We couldn't offer Quilt Camp when summer sleep-away camp was still happening.  This year, August also held a 75th Anniversary week-end for Lutheridge and the Asheville Quilt Show.  So this four day stretch heading into Labor Day week-end was the only option.

I waited until the last minute to sign up.  I'll be teaching today and tomorrow, and I didn't want to claim a table if it meant that someone else couldn't attend.  But we didn't have the full registration that we expected, so I went ahead and claimed my space.

Quilt Camp started at 3 yesterday afternoon, and I spent the first hour sorting through my various collections, trying to remember what I was thinking when I organized my material back in the spring.  At first I felt despair and an urge to just throw it all in the trash.  Part of my despair was remembering how I had a plan in the spring, and the summer wiped out my ability to do much of anything beyond CPE and my weekly preaching.

Happily, I can often pinpoint the source of my despair and move beyond it.  As I sorted through fabric, my mind delighted at the memory of these fabrics and how I came to have them and the friends who have been part of the process.  I sat and sewed a few seams and settled into a rhythm.

I didn't take any pictures, but that's O.K.  I still have time.  But even better, I have a few days of my own table, a few days where I can leave everything spread out with the knowledge that I'm not in anyone's way.  I can sort and organize and sew and reconnect with friends.  

I can reconnect with myself and with the One who made me--one of the biggest gifts of Quilt Camp!

Scraps from Quilt Camp

 It's been a great week, tiring but great.  Let me record some bits and pieces that I want to remember.

--In years to come, I will remember this week as one where I did a lot of sewing.  Yesterday, as I cut cloth into strips, I thought about how satisfying it is, the feel of the cloth, the sound of the scissors slicing through it.

--I asked for scraps that people would throw away because we'll need them for the upcoming Create in Me retreat.  I'm surprised by the amount of cloth that people would ordinarily throw away, and it's not just selvage and other bits of cloth that don't have a quarter inch bit for a seam allowance.  I've been scavenging the scraps too.  A lot of these scraps are high quality fabric.

--Yesterday, we had a small field trip.  No not to a quilt or fabric shop--I went with a friend I first made through the Create in Me retreat to see another friend we met through that retreat.  He works at Raven and Crone, the kind of store that I thought didn't exist in a physical form anymore.  It sells rocks and crystals, herbs and spices and teas, books, incense, jewelry, candles, bath products.  Delightful!  I bought three small polished rocks because they had beautiful colors and reminded me of childhood.  I bought a bag of loose tea.  Our friend who works there formulates and mixes them, and he was a chemistry major before he was a pastor, so I trust the tea.  Yesterday afternoon I brewed a cup, and it's delicious.

--We have had amazing food.  That's not unusual for non-summer camp, but I do remember a day when even adult camp was not this delicious. 

--We did chair yoga on Wednesday.  It's amazing how much we can stretch in just twenty minutes.

--I've been walking a bit each day.  There are some folks here at Quilt Camp who are grateful for a chance to stretch in this way.  We have different kinds of conversations as we walk.  When people are absorbed in their quilting, it's harder to talk, so it's great to take a break.

----One of my walking friends knows a lot about plants, and she's identified some that I didn't know.  Beautiful!

--Yesterday we walked down my street.  I told them I wouldn't invite them in because my spouse was spackling and I didn't want them to risk ruining their clothes.  

--As we walked down my street, I was struck as I often am, on a daily basis, by gratitude.  I am grateful that I live in this neighborhood, in this church camp, in this town, in this part of the Appalachian mountains.  I am hugely grateful that we sold our house in Florida, at a time when someone still wanted to buy it.  It's a good place to weather the political and climate chaos that is surely upon us.

Last Full Day of Quilt Camp

 It's been a good few days at Quilt Camp.  I have two quilt tops I've been working on, and while I've made progress, they are still not done.  It looks like this one should be done when I stretch it on the design wall:

But stretched on the bed, it's not wide enough yet:

My other quilt top is similarly not finished yet.  Happily I have time and scraps and love doing the work.  Fortunately, we're not depending on the quilts I'm making to keep us from freezing to death in the winter.

At Quilt Camp, the projects of other quilters inspires me too.  Yesterday, I loved seeing these notecards made of scraps sewn on cardstock:

Here's the back of those cards:

And here's an abstract design:

Last night I came back to my nearby Lutheridge house because I have seminary class on Thursday nights.  I only have a few class meetings left, and this class which explores Christmas and Easter without the ministry in between, is one of the best classes I've ever taken in all of my student years.

Today is another day, the last full day, of sewing and socializing.  It's going to be wonderful, and I'm already feeling sad that Quilt Camp is soon over.  

Ways to Greet the Day: Lost Lenses or Fabric in Our Hands

It has already been a strange morning.  I put on my glasses that I use to read the computer when my contacts aren't in, and I thought my vision was odd.  I took them off and realized I didn't have as much trouble reading the computer screen as usual.  I thought it was my left eye that was strange.  Could I have left a contact lens in?  I touched my eye, and it didn't seem to be there.  The contact wasn't in the lens case.  Long story short:  last night, I took the lens out of my left eye, put it in the right side of the case, and left my right contact lens in my eye all night.  So I put the lenses in their proper case and later, I may or may not put them in my eyes.

I have that kind of flexibility today because I'm not driving down to Spartanburg; today is the first full day of spring Quilt Camp at Lutheridge!

Yesterday was also strange.  I did a lot of prepping to get ready for my time away, and then I headed over to the audiologist to get her help with my hearing aid.  It has a protective part at the end, designed to be removed, and when I took my hearing aid out on Monday, the protective part stayed in my ear.  Happily, it was easy for her to remove.  I didn't panic on Monday--well, after the first bit of panic--because I reasoned that the tip is designed to be in my ear canal for long periods of time.

Once I got back from the audiologist, it was off to work.  It was a good teaching day.

I drove back to North Carolina and stopped at the Faith Center on my way in.  I don't have as much to unload as the Quilt Camp folks who come with two sewing machines, a chair, and an extra table, but it does take me several trips back and forth to the car to get all my cloth around me.

I went to dinner with some friends; most Quilt Camp meals will be served at the dining hall, but meals don't start until the first full day, today.  I'm really looking forward to breakfasts that are much more than my usual bowl of enhanced oatmeal.

Since I am up early anyway, I'm the one who opens the Faith Center for those of us who want to greet the sunrise with fabric in our hands.  Let me close this post so I can get ready. 

Week of Smoke, Week of Encouragement

 It has been a strange week, a wonderful week, a tiring week, a good week overall for me personally but not so much for larger communities.  Let me record a few snippets.

--It's been the week when we've learned that some of the highest federal government folks have been talking on unsecured networks; this week's scandal has been dubbed "Signalgate."  I've been shaking my head, as many people have.  Many of us have had to go through yearly trainings to remind/teach/train us of the importance of keeping secure information secure.  And one doesn't need these trainings--it's common sense.  Grrr.

--It's been a week of other kinds of smoke.  We've had lots of fire in the Carolina mountains.  So far my house is safe, but the smoke is visible, and the air quality is poor.  As I drive back and forth to Spartanburg, I can see huge plumes of smoke in the distance.  We need rain, a few days of soaking (but not torrential!) rain.  More than that, we need the downed trees cleared away, but I'm not sure how that will happen.

--We've had family members in town as one of the next generations scouts wedding venues.  It's been great to be with them.  It was too brief, but brief visits are better than no visits.

--My seminary schedule is a bit strange, with lots of due dates next week.  The good news is that by getting this work done now, I'll have less to do later.  But I am feeling loaded down.

--The two classes that I'm taking have been particularly good this week, so that's a blessing.  And I've gotten good feedback--much needed encouragement, encouragement needed because I'm tired, not because I'm doubting myself.

--It's also been a good teaching week, with encouragement and praise.  It's nice to feel appreciated.  And it's a marvel to be praised for all the things I do, like the quilting bee on Monday.  I've worked at many a place where people would have questioned what any of that had to do with writing an essay, with the insinuation that I should just do my job.  And it's nice to be in a place that has space to do a quilting bee.

--I had students who came to the quilting bee who wanted me to do it again, and one student who wishes I would teach a sewing class.  I wish I had those kind of sewing skills.  I can't take a pattern and cloth and end up with a shirt.

Even though it will be an intense week-end getting next week's seminary tasks done, it will be good to have a day when I'm not driving.  It will be good to have some time to get the work done.

Reweaving My Frazzled Threads

This morning is one of those mornings when I feel a bit frazzled and overextended.  Let me collect some threads and see what I can weave together.

--I have turned in midterm grades for Spartanburg Methodist College.  Hurrah!  I am trying something new this term, frontloading the more intensive assignments, the research assignments, to the front half of the class.  I think it's better for students, but it has meant a tiring few weeks for me.

--I go to an audiologist this morning.  I have had my hearing checked before, but it was around 2009 or so.  I have already found out that my health insurance doesn't cover hearing aids, but that wasn't a surprise to me.  I may make the investment.  After all, we've invested in vision aids and teeth--why not hearing?  These are the decisions that might mean we have a healthier old age.

--My audiologist appointment was for next week, when SMC is on spring break, but they called to offer me this morning's spot because someone had cancelled.  I am glad I was able to say yes--perhaps next Friday will now feel more spacious.

--For one of my seminary classes, we have to choose five weeks where we'll do a more intense thinking about the week's texts.  Tonight we study the non-canonical birth narratives.  I decided not to do the more intense engagement.  I am not likely to ever preach or teach on those texts, so I'll save my intense thinking for later.

--I was sad to hear of the death of Martin E. Marty, a prominent theologian and a Lutheran.  In recent years, I haven't read as much of his work, but there were times when I read his short articles on a regular basis and found his voice one of sanity and compassion. 

--I was sad, and yet the man was 97 years old, so I'm also happy that he lived a long and fruitful life.

--I was happy to read this article in The Washington Post about an unexpected benefit of drinking tea.  When I clicked on the link, I expected that the benefit would have something to do with vitamin absorption or hydration.  Lo and behold, steeping tea can lead to reducing toxins like lead that might be in the water.  The tea leaves attract the toxins and hold them, while releasing their own benefits.  Hurrah!

--I think about the years when I worried about my tea consumption, worried that the tannins might be doing something to my stomach, the way that they discolored tea pitchers.  But through the decades, we've found more and more benefits to tea drinking.

--I am also thinking of past years and my fabric buying.  This week, Joann Fabric announced it will close all stores.  That store used to be one I went to much more regularly, back in the days when they had cheaper alternatives to the fancier cloth/quilt shops, back when I was making more baby quilts.

--And then my brain went to the going out of business sales that they might have.  I probably have more fabric than I can use in the lifetime that I have left--but I do have some quilts that will need some backing fabric.  I wonder how much time is left for those stores and when the sales will start.

Well, let me shift gears and think about a sunrise walk.  Yesterday I even did a bit of jogging.  I am relieved to be getting out of my chair this week.  Last week was tough, with cold and ice and wind.

Haunted by Color, Soothed by Stitching

I turned in my last seminary paper on Saturday, and I turned in my last batch of grades a few days before that.  But yesterday, Thursday, was my first truly unscheduled day of this winter break.  On Sunday, I spent a good chunk of the day attending to my preaching job, on Monday I went to Columbia, on Tuesday I came home, and on Wednesday, I had a holiday lunch with the local church quilt group and an evening Zoom session.  At one point, my spouse said, "Did the Little Engine Who Could have a name?  Because you remind me of an Energizer Bunny in the way that you keep going."

It's a mix of metaphors, but I understand what he was saying.  Even when I'm on break, I'm not really on break.  I still have my part-time preaching job, and there are upcoming classes that start on January 7, onground classes where I need to create syllabi still.  And even though I know that I'm done with the fall semester responsibilities, both as teacher and student, I still wake up in the middle of the night feeling fretful.

I still did a bit of chugging along; I wanted to get to Michael's to get new sketchbooks while they were on sale.  So after rounding up the last of the recycling before the arrival of the trash collectors, I headed out to run some errands.  We did a bit of cooking, and then settled in to watch some plays by way of the National Theatre at Home.  I had to subscribe for a class, and we've been enjoying watching good theatre.  Yesterday we watched two plays.

I still felt fidgety, so I pulled out my basket of fabric.  I've been creating a quilt out of scraps of fabric--you may say, "Yes, that's the very nature of quilting, correct?  Scraps of fabric?"  But I began this project by thinking I would put the scraps together in a less organized way.  I thought I could pay no attention to size or color of each scrap and just put them together as I pulled them out of the basket.  Here's what I have so far:

Clearly, I'm not putting this quilt together in the random way I first envisioned.  But I'm having fun assembling my scraps into longer strips.  Here's the one I worked on last night:

And then I did a few quick sketches for notecards that I'm always creating.  You can see one nestled in the cloth:

Today I'll do a bit more writing than yesterday, a bit more shopping than yesterday (4 x the fuel points at Ingles!).  But I plan to keep doing some sewing each day.  It reminds me of this quote that I saw on the wall of the museum on Tuesday:

Veterans Day 2024

 Today is Veterans Day.  Here is a picture of my favorite veteran, my dad:

He's my favorite veteran for obvious reasons, but there are many other veterans who would also be favorites:  my father-in-law, an Army veteran, and my Florida pastor Keith Spencer and his wife, Piper Spencer, Navy veterans, for example.  I think of one of my best friends from high school, Chum Kimsey:

The above picture is from 2014, when she had just been diagnosed with esophageal cancer, which would take her life.  She served in the Army in the late 80's and early 90's.

Yesterday we watched a Veterans Day concert, which made me feel both grateful and teary-eyed.  I thought of our current country, how few people serve in this way, even as many people say they support our military.  The concert contained footage from an Honor Flight event, which made me think of my own experience with my dad and sister on a similar trip.  

It was both a joyful trip and a somber one, being surrounded by living veterans, all older than 65, and the monuments to the wars that they fought.  It was a sobering reminder of the ultimate cost that so many veterans pay/paid.

I am also thinking of all the quilters I know who make quilts for veterans as a way to say thank you:

I'm not at a point yet where I could do that--but this morning, I'm wishing that I could show gratitude in this way, a way that results in a beautiful quilt.  For this morning, though, words will have to do.

Sermon for Sunday, November 10, 2024

 November 10, 2024

By Kristin Berkey-Abbott

Mark 12:38-44

All week, I’ve been thinking of widows.  I’ve been thinking of the widow in our Old Testament reading who gave her last bit of food and water to Elijah.  I’ve been thinking of the widow in the New Testament who gave two copper coins, all that she had, to pay her temple tax.  It wasn’t until the end of the week that I returned to the New Testament reading and saw the mirror image here, the behavior of the hypocritical scribes, the behavior of the widow.

In our Gospel text for this morning, it’s tempting to focus on the widow who gave all that she had.  After all, we’ve been here before.  Just a few weeks ago, we had the story of the wealthy man who approached Jesus wanting to know what to do to get eternal life.  Do you remember the answer?  Give all earthly wealth to the poor.

And here’s a widow, doing just that, giving up everything, in contrast to the rich who are plunking money into the Temple coffers.  Why, the sermon practically writes itself!

For all of you anticipating a good old-fashioned stewardship sermon, I’m about to disappoint you.  I don’t think that Jesus is telling us that we must give up ALL that we have.  Go back to the text.  He observes the widow’s actions.  He does not say, “Go and do likewise.”

So what is the point?  What are we to learn?  Let’s look at the passage again.  Let’s look at the contrasts.

The first contrast is easiest to see:  rich people giving large sums vs. widow woman giving 2 copper coins.  She’s not tithing.  She’s giving all that she owns.  And for what?  Two copper coins would buy nothing.  She’s not required to give all that she has.  We might build a back story for her.  Maybe she gives all that she has because she believes in the mission of the Temple in a way that the rich people do not.  But we don’t know that—we don’t have that insight into either the rich benefactors or the widow.

Who gets that level of backstory?  It’s the scribes in the beginning of today’s Gospel.  Please note that Jesus is not condemning all scribes or all religious authorities or every member of an elite class.  Jesus condemns the ones who like the attention that they get because they have authority.  They get to wear the robes and eat the food and have the best seats and be treated with respect—and Jesus seems to suggest that they are holding their office for all the wrong reasons, so that they can get the high regard of their society—and so that they can get rich.

And how do they get rich?  By robbing widows.  By taking from the poor, from people on the lowest rungs of society, from those who can least afford to lose what they have.  By taking from the very people that they are supposed to help.  This Gospel is less about giving all that we have and more about hypocrisy, in some ways, and you don’t need me to preach a sermon on the perils of hypocrisy.  Every day’s news cycle offers at least one warning about the perils of hypocrisy.

As I’ve been thinking about the widows in this week’s readings, I’ve been thinking about all the ways that our societal structures put people in danger, particularly people with little political power.  An election season might make us think that we have the power to change things, and sometimes we do.  But Jesus reminds us again and again that the system is rigged.  Our earthly empires, whether it’s the Roman empire of Jesus’ time or various societal systems of our own time—our earthly empires are not looking out for the powerless.  On the contrary, they are getting rich by exploiting those who have so little.

I hear the words of my Preaching professor echoing in my head:  where is the good news in all of this?  The widow in the Old Testament gives us the good news that although we may not be able to reverse earthly empires who prey on the weak, that it is God who is in charge.  The widows in both of our texts for today give all that they have.  Maybe it’s because they have faith in the Temple system or maybe it’s because they were expecting to die anyway.  They give, and God transforms.

Let’s be very clear on this.  With both widows, we don’t know their mental state.  God doesn’t reward them with abundance because of their trust or their faith or their good works.  God gives them abundance because that is what God does.  The proper response to God’s abundance is to share.

I have seen this dynamic in action this week, very far away from the corridors of political power that were playing out across the nation and the airwaves and social media.  I have spent this week not only with Biblical widows but with 21st century widows and older women.  I have seen the Kingdom of God this week, because I have been at Quilt Camp at Lutheridge.

In the three days before Quilt Camp, we got a message from one of the leaders.  Wouldn’t it be great if we brought any extra quilts we have --  we could share them with people in the western NC area, like the Lutheridge staff, people who have suffered so much loss and have still showed up to work.  On the first night, the leader who had sent out the message confided in me that she thought we didn’t have enough quilts even to share with the Lutheridge staff.

But it was early in the retreat, and by the morning, after everyone had a chance to get settled, we had more than enough.  Plus, one of the other leaders went through her own fabric stash and organized it into a pillowcase project for us to do.  We each received a ziplock bag with 3 pieces of fabric cut into the pattern we would use—plus, there were extra bags, just in case.  And by the end of the retreat, we got them all made so that they could be taken to a local quilt fabric shop to be given to community people who had lost their houses.

You might say, “You were making pillowcases for people who have lost everything?  Talk about two copper coins!  What kind of stupid offering is that?”

It is the kind of offering that we have.  We have fabric in abundance, we have time, and we have skills.  And a pillowcase can be used for so many things beyond just protecting a pillow.

As I watched us working on our own projects while also spending time on projects to help others, I thought of what Jesus so often said, “The Kingdom of God is at hand”—or as I so often paraphrase:  “This is what the community of God looks like.”  We had women of various ages and all sorts of backgrounds and out of a wide range of political and religious beliefs.  In a different setting, we might not have much to say to each other.  But at Quilt Camp, where we worked on projects to help others, we connected in a way that was even deeper than it would have been if we had just worked on our own projects.

This is what the Kingdom of God looks like:  giving to those who have less, giving what we have, pledging our allegiance to the vision of community that Jesus tells us is possible.

First Full Day at Quilt Camp

 When I go to a quilt retreat, I often get questions about what happens at a quilt retreat.  Yesterday was a fairly typical day at the quilt retreat that Lutheridge offers, so let me make some observations.

--It's held in the main gathering place, the huge Faith Center.  Every quilter gets two tables, which leaves room for quilters to bring other things they might need, like a table for a sewing machine, stackable shelving units, bins of fabrics, and such.  There's a power cord at each work space.  There's lots of wall space and floor space for figuring out patterns.  This photo gives you an idea of the set up.

--The most important aspect of the Lutheridge retreat:  we can make it be what we want it to be.  If we need a nap or a walk, wonderful.  If we want to lose ourselves in a project and be left alone, that's fine.  If we want to walk from table to table and chat, great.  If we need help assembling/figuring out a project, we've got lots of folks who are happy to pitch in.

--We're here for three full days, plus an evening beginning and a morning ending (Wed. afternoon arrival with an evening start through Sunday morning).  It's great to have that much time.  Much of that time is unstructured.

--I have always had online work that had to be done while I was there, and it's fine to sit at my work space with my laptop.  I love doing grading or working on a seminary paper surrounded by my quilt squares and gorgeous fabric.  Sew a little, grade a little, and wow, I can be productive!

--This year, we're taking an afternoon yoga break, a 20 minute session of chair yoga led by a friend of the retreat who is certified.  Wow!  I hope we figure out a way to do this every year.

--Every retreat offers a focused learning opportunity or two.  This retreat, we learned a pillowcase pattern and some techniques for binding.  Some retreats, when there hasn't been a hurricane six weeks ago, we have a local expert come in to lead a workshop.  The learning opportunities are optional.

--We eat our meals in the dining hall.  It's amazing to have camp stuff there to do the cooking and the clean up and to make decisions about the meals and the shopping.  When I'm on a retreat, I realize how much of my time each week goes to food.   Don't get me wrong--I love cooking and shopping and eating.  But it takes more time than I realize until I'm not doing it for a few days.

--Because it's a retreat at a church camp, there are some spiritual aspects.  They are ecumenical, since we come from a variety of faith expressions, and not participating in evening devotion time is an option too.  On the last night, there is a worship service with communion.  To me, it feels very non-proselytizing, and the view of God is an expansive one of a creator full of grace and love for all of creation.  Each quilt retreat has a different Bible passage to focus our devotion and worship time.

--We often do a service project.  This year, we made pillow cases for displaced people, and we brought quilts we had already made.  You can see the quilts in a pile above, and below, spread out across the chairs in our evening space for gathering:

 

--We brought 22 quilts to give away.  We also give money to camp for summer camp scholarships.

--We have show and tell every night, where each quilter is invited to bring a project, either completed or in progress.  At the last night, we have wine, cheese, snacks, and a quilt walk where we display projects at our tables.

--But the most important element of this retreat is the fellowship and support.  In some ways, we are all so different from each other in terms of family, background, career, upbringing, beliefs of all sorts.  But we love fabric and we love quilting and we love each other, even if we've only known each other for a few days.  Many of us return year after year, and it builds a beautiful community--one which leaves me hopeful for the future.