Musings about Sewing.

I love to sew. LOVE it. I think this is for a couple of reasons.

First off, my mom took the time to teach me. I have two younger brothers and a younger sister, and my dad died when I was eleven. So for this busy woman to have taken the time to teach me, at age 9, to sew -- it's no wonder I love it. It was precious one-on-one time with mom. Time when I had Mom all to myself. That alone would have clinched it, I think.

But also, I was relatively easy to teach. I'm a quick study. So although I tended to race ahead thinking I already knew how to do something, I also picked up techniques quickly. And I loved the ideas that I could create something out of nothing, and that I could conquer a task.

Whenever I would move from apartment to apartment, I would always take my bed and my sewing machine. Mom got it for me when I was about 19; it was a 1970's model Pfaff that was state-of-the-art in its day. It also weighs a ton! I used it until about 12 years ago, when I put it away for a newer model that will do embroidery. I even managed to run a bridal business with that old Pfaff, up until the time my kids were born.

About ten years ago, I moved and didn't really have a place to set everything up as I liked. Time passed -- too much time, really, and I was too busy to let myself really "dissolve" into this hobby I loved.

But I've carved a corner of the dining room now, and I'm creating again. This has brought such joy to my life -- no kidding! To be making dresses for the girls again, to be exploring the whole world of crafting all over again, it's wonderful. I can't go at it like I used to, but I can go at it. And it frustrates me that my body has changed so much that I am no longer my own best model. My taste tends to the much younger -- although the trends of the much younger would scoff at my taste.

And old friend once told me something I've never forgotten. She was my roommate for a couple of years, and we were reminiscing about that time. She asked if I was still sewing. At that time, I wasn't as much -- and she said this:

"I remember I used to go to bed and there would be fabric folded somewhere. The next morning I'd wake up and there would be a dress."

What a compliment. The idea that I was responsible for bringing "life" to just a plain old piece of cloth.

Art, in its many forms, is such a reflection of our Creator. What a joy it is to imitate Him in such a small way.