In Conversation with My Creator - Joylene M. Bailey

I got my love for sewing and quilting from my Mom, who got it from her Mom. I guess you could say that sewing/quilting is a family tradition. 

Loving it is also a family tradition. 

My husband still enters my sewing space with trepidation because he remembers growing up with a mom who was grouchy every time she sewed. He is always surprised by how happy I am when I am at my sewing machine.

Mom always has another quilt on the go, and her eyes light up as she talks about colours and fabrics and new ways of quilting. She tells me that when she sews she bubbles with worship to her Creator. It is her form of worship. She gives God glory as she works with her hands.

We are created to create. So, when I create with fabric, thread, and quilting needles, I am giving back to my Creator. I am doing exactly what I was created to do. 

This conversation, this back and forth - Creator giving the desire and giftedness to create, Me giving back with worship and thanksgiving, He delighting in my creating - is a deeply spiritual thing. 

It is a Refreshing. 

A Cleansing. 

A place where things I'm struggling with in my "other" life come into focus and are seen from another perspective, because I am communicating with God, my Creator, when I sew.  

**********

My latest quilting project was a baby quilt for our newest granddaughter, who was born a month ago. 

Because I am not as good at it as Mom is, the quilt has some mistakes that I wouldn’t have made had I been more accomplished. But to be accomplished one has to spend hours and hours and hours of learning and practice, which I haven’t done ... yet.  

It's a lot like writing that way.

Still, I sew with the little expertise I have and hope that the love will show through. Meanwhile I’ll learn and grow with each project I work on, knowing that my Creator looks on with pleasure, as I take pleasure in creating.

**********

Joy sews and writes from Edmonton. You can check out more of her joy-infused writing at Scraps of Joy.

Summer Musings by Connie Inglis

Summer writing. Do I do anything different than other seasons of the year? Yes, I would say I do. I would probably admit that I do less writing. But that doesn't mean I do less brainstorming. In fact, I have found that it is in the summer that I get more fodder for writing than any other season. Why is that you ask? Well, it is my favourite season but more importantly, it's because I have more time to enjoy my favourite muse, my summer muse I call her, my granddaughter.

Nothing inspires me more than this precious little girl--to view the world through her eyes, to hear her play-by-play perspective on people, places, things, to soak in her love for life. She fills my little notebook with ideas for future writing and hilarious quotes like the following: "Grandma, you're not an adult, you're an old teen."

Which brings me to my next point. Time with her allows me to be a kid again. If my neighbours saw me running through the sprinkler or filling water balloons or drawing with chalk in my driveway by myself, they might question my sanity. But I can get away with it when I'm doing it with my granddaughter. And in all honesty, I enjoy all those activities--they take me back to the joy of my childhood. And as I bask in the summer heat, they draw me into God's time, into kairos time, where again I feel His pleasure in the simple things of life, surrounded by His creation.

I think I can best say it in a poem--though even a short poem can't express my love, my attachment to this muse. She sings Jesus to me.

My Summer Muse

(to my granddaughter Sydrah)

Sweet summer

muse, you

"sing in me," as 

Calliope to Homer,

ideations of

inspiration.

Like July

fireworks, you

explode with 

carefree creativity,

then beckon me to

join you in your joy.

Touching your world,

hearing your voice,

viewing your perceptions,

breathing in your spice,

savoring your zest--

it is sacred ground.

I take off my shoes;

for the miracle of

you 

moves me to 

worship the Creator,

the Giver of

     my Summer Muse. 

Photo by Katherine Dumas