I’ve been itching to do some writing but in recent days there has been no time for such frivolity.

I mean, I’ve had stuff to take care of, like

being celebrated at a surprise birthday tea, by my daughter and daughter in law and that girls mother and more,

sewing a few dozen aprons, cooking up some meals for my children, organizing a couple of showers (one for a bride to be and one for a mother to be), finally biting the proverbial bullet and going for an official eye exam and then dealing with the subsequent fallout of Real Glasses, (not sure which is worse, not seeing or trying to adjust to a face full of plastic and glass), listening to outpourings of burdens by new friends and attempting to speak wisdom, taking care of the usual business of laundry and fridge cleaning and pansy planting and garbage and recycling and squeezing in a few minutes to far too quickly do my Bible Study homework and organizing a scone and apron open house and hosting a friend from years gone by and

Not going for the walks I need to go for and

Not sitting quietly to listen to the voice of the One who knows me best and

Not spending real time with that same One, to petition on behalf of the ones I love and

Not opening the cover of even one of the books on the ever growing stack waiting for me to begin reading.

I’m considering  Phillippians  4:8 and it goes like this

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things.

I’m also thinking about Solomon and he was very wise.  In Ecclesiastes he says that we should be joyful and do good and that we should eat and drink and take pleasure in our work.  I’m all for that!

I like Joy and Pleasure and I usually like doing good although sometimes I really don’t feel like it.

I’ve been working at these things I’ve been doing because my heart has been filled with a desire to do them.  You see, God gives me the desire to love and share and listen and laugh and He wants to fulfill those desires.  However, He is all about moderation in those passions and desires so that I will remember and not forget that none of them should keep me from quiet waiting, listening to,  watching hard and bowing humbly before

Him.

 

So I’m sitting at Starbucks.  It’s bordered by town and mountains and budding bushes and fertile earth and every time the door opens to allow entrance to a coffee buying customer, in with that customer comes the smell of “fertilizer”.  It’s the kind you spread on the garden or field and you can smell it a long way off.  The smell is not the most pleasant fragrance but it makes me smile.  That’s the country girl in me.  My life has been like that.  Dichotomous!  city and country, happy and sad, strong and weak, loud and quiet, kind and not, organized and a great big mess, truth teller and people pleaser

and maybe we’re all a bit like that.

Today I’m in the East part of West.  I’ve been thinking about gifts and sharing and receiving and my favourite type of all three is

Time.

I’m sharing mine and they, the people I came to see, are sharing theirs.

It’s the best.  It’s investment.  We’ve been talking about the good times and mixed in we’ve been talking about the not so good.

Why should I want That (whatever it might be, but sometimes it’s good and sometimes it’s not) when I have This (which is good some days and others, not really).  They cancel each other out, end up at the same place,

at the crossroads of a choice between

Joy or Not.

Well, here I am, surrounded by beauty and old friends and memories and I am finding joy in the work that’s mine.  It’s different from yours and you might want my job and sometimes I might want yours but I’ve told you before

Bloom.

Now that I’m officially middle aged (I get the seniors discount at Shoppers)  I tend to look back a bit more than I did a few years ago.

There are those who have asked

Why?

when they hear about my apron making.  After all, who wears aprons anymore?  Well as it turns out, there are few more today than there were last week at this time.  I made a room full of aprons and sold quite a few just the other day.  There might be a variety of reasons why those ladies purchased those aprons but I can tell you

we had a great time talking aprons while we ate scones.  It was a warm day and the doors were open wide.  Someone commented that it was appropriate to have the doors open since it was an open house.  I agreed!

So, here it is.  I like to find many and varied ways to bring people together.  We live in a place and time where text messaging and email and instagram posts are far and away the most common forms of communicating.  Oh, I’m one of the worst.  This “device” is never far from my fingertips and partly because I want to share and be shared with.

To have a group, large or small, friends or strangers, in the same room, meeting and sharing and listening and laughing and eating, is a passion of mine.

Come on over, the more the merrier.  Nothing better.  It might be fancy and it might be thrown together but we’ll be real together and it’s gonna be a good time.

When I get to Heaven I hope God assigns me the job of Getting Folks Together.  No nonsense and no putting on of Airs!

Over the past months a few people (quite a few) have sent me the same poem about aprons.  They found it in their internet travels and thought I would appreciate it.  I did and do.

Quite a few years ago my mom sent me a poem that I have kept safe and sound (in a place I knew not, so when I tried to locate it’s whereabouts, it was not to be found).  She sent it at a time when she was, herself, making aprons.  She wore an apron, always and it became a symbol of comfort and even love, for me.

I found the poem a few days ago and here it is

Mother’s Apron

I used to say to Mother when friends were dropping by for tea, “Oh Mother, take your apron off and don’t embarrass me.”  But Mother simply smiled and said, “I will when I get through, But I have need of it just now, there’s work for me to do.”

I argued and apologized and often I opined That wearing aprons gave a hint that one was not refined; But Mother took the restless babe upon her aproned knee, Quite undisturbed by what I said, she rocked on cheerfully.  

And when the older boys came in, a giggling happy lot, My Mother with the babe in arms would stir the old iron pot, And from her kitchen she would bring a dinner, well prepared By loving hands for healthy youths who seldom thought or cared.

And thus to labour and to serve my mother always wore A large, white, crisp apron in the happy days of yore; And when the evening meal was done, I’d say, “Oh Mother, do Take off your apron.”  “She’d reply, “I will when I get through.”

Twas thus the happy years sped on, her children grew and wed, And Mother nursed her grandchildren in her own children’s stead; She always found the time to go to soothe a neighbour’s cough, But never could she find the time to take her apron off.

The corner of her apron served to dry our childish tears; It told each hungry stranger who came shivering to our door, “My apron’s on, I’m here to serve until life’s day is o’er.

So faithfully she worked away, she had so much to do, And always of her aprons said, “I will when I get through.”

And then one night with weary feet she climbed the old home stair, And with a conquering sigh, she sat on her bedroom chair.

And folding up her apron white as she was wont to do, She handed it to me and said, “Well, daughter, I am through.”  And peacefully she entered into rest–so nobly earned.

And as the lonely years passed by, this lesson I have learned:

My mother’s apron symbol was of service for her King.  Now in my treasure chest it lies, a sacred, precious thing.   –Jane Scott

So someone asked a few weeks ago

If the aprons keep their crispness.  No they don’t.

If they fade.  Yes they do.  It’s okay though!  They serve a purpose.  They help keep clothes clean but more important still

They are lovely gifts of hospitality.  They are a token of care and they are good.

Nano doesn’t wear an apron any more.  She doesn’t need it.  She’s hung it up and moved past.  I wish it wasn’t so.  She wishes it wasn’t so because her greatest joy was serving, in one of those aprons of hers.  I loved watching her do what she did, always in an apron.  She isn’t well and we don’t know how much longer she will

Bloom.

She is wilting and that is an understatement but we have the memories of her and her many and varied aprons and we like the memories.  What pleasure it gives her to look at the fabrics I purchase and comment on the beauty of the creations I attempt.

Work is good.  Even mine that doesn’t bring in but a few dollars here and there.   Nano’s work took on a lot of forms and she taught me that the best work is that of

doing what God initiates in your heart.

A desire.  What could ever be better than a passion put there by the one who made

Me

You.

He did, you know,

give us desires designed to please Him and

bring us joy.

The desires He gives are good but not best.  He is Best and I know it but often choose

other than.  I’m tired and the leftover time and energy is available for Him.

He deserves More.  By Far.

Work is good and I’m thankful for mine.  I want to use my work to glorify Him.

So when I wake up in the morning and say

Okay God, I have no idea what today holds but I’m deciding to do whatever it is as it comes and I’ll remember that I am yours and you put the desires in my heart.

While I’m Doing

I will choose to remember that desires are God given but not to be bigger than my

desire for You.

Psalm 20:4 May he grant you your heart’s desire and fulfill all your plans!“

Matthew 22:37 You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.