It has been a trying year. Too many prominent members of the congregation have died with difficult circumstances surrounding their deaths. It is emotional fuel for continued conflict and hurt within the leadership. Too much personal anxiety around mental health issues in immediate family members, inheritance details, feelings of isolation, and decreasing hours of daylight has given birth to a silent litany of “I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care” as a way to cope.
I’ve been quilting, constantly, but not finishing a single project. I’ve started three major pieces in the last month, all with deadlines. I get almost finished, pull it down off the design board and start something else. I contemplate whether my inability to finish mirrors my inability to let grief go. Daily I begin by praying I will have enough emotional resources to get through today.
A couple of weeks ago the widow of one of the recently deceased members celebrated her 65th birthday. Attempted to celebrate. It has been very difficult for her. The first anniversaries after a loved one dies typically is, the first Thanksgiving, the first birthday, the wedding anniversary, the baptism of a grandchild. Christmas is going to be bleak. I managed to finish this quilt and gift it to her. I named it “Strength for Today, Hope for tomorrow.” A line from the powerful hymn Great is Thy Faithfulness. I pray it brings her comfort and some measure of peace.
Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth,
thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide,
strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,
blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!
Lamentations 3:22-24 The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.”
It’s been some time since I have felt up to giving some attention to this blog. Sorry about that. I’ve missed reading those blogs I follow, and those who follow me. Things were quite dreary for some time. I was diagnosed with hypothyroid and located a cyst in my breast all at the same time of dealing with the grief of my dad’s death. I am now on thyroid medication, it has helped with the depression symptoms, but I am still quite tired. Another round of blood work at the end of January will determine whether there is actually any stabilization of hormone levels.
On top of everything, we have had snow. LOTS of snow. It’s beautiful, serene, pristene, glorious. It brings extra time in getting ready to go anywhere. It involves brushing all of it off the vehicle, shovelling out the driveway, the sidewalk (otherwise they won’t deliver your mail), the steps into the house. December broke the record for snowfall for that month, over 100 cms. Compound those challenges with only seven hours of daylight and it is not surprising so many people suffer from S.A.D.D.
I didn’t sew much from September to December either. The interest just wasn’t there. I did manage to get a small banner completed for the lower hall at the church and two banners and two banner tops in yellow and white for the times in the liturgical year that call for those colours. I will get pictures up in a future blog. Promise.
This little project was originally a panel that had a variety of Christmas/winter images. I fussy cut all the images and reassembled the Christmas ones with some filler colours.
Merry Ukrainian Christmas, btw.
Luke 2:10-1110 But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 11 to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.
It was a strange day around the house today. We worked in the garden most of the afternoon. Every time I came to the door to get something in the house I felt the urge to call Toby, “Come outside, bud. It’s a lovely day.” Only, only I remembered Toby is no longer an element of our reality. A number of months ago, he began sneezing constantly and violently, to the extend he would smack his muzzle against the floor, and then bleed all over everything. The vet found a cancerous mass in Toby’s sinuses. Eventually the tumours began protruding from one of his nostrils, bringing an end to the sneezing, but slowing him down. Thursday night, Friday morning he did not sleep well, sneezing again (the other sinus cavity?) and whimpering. Hubby did not sleep at all, and neither did the sweet boy. The vet agreed it was time, that the pain and quality of life would only get uncomfortably worse.
It’s weird not to have dogs in the house. The television was turned off all day, no unwavering stare as we eat our meals, no click of nails on the hardwood floor. We’ll miss him so much, trusting he is frolicking and running amok with Dusty and cousin Cruzor. The three buddies, reunited. Joy in peace boys.