I never got into quilting. I never could get the machine to work. My mother was working while I was growing up and I never learned "domestic skills." That is why I don't clean. That is why, besides baking cookies, I don't really cook. I can't sew. My mother does know how to knit scarves. That's it. She never learned beyond the scarf. No hats or mittens, sweaters or even vests, just the scarf. But she didn't teach me. I learned that one from a book. (That's how I've learned a lot of things....that's for another blog entirely).
Joyce had a tested life. She lost 3 children. 3 children in a devastating manner. 3 boys sent to Heaven before her. She nursed them when they were ill and held their hand as they were dying. I've read (and whole-heartily agree) that when we as women give birth, a part of us goes and lives with the new person. We are never whole again and don't care, as we can watch that new part of ourselves grow and blossom in this new miracle. I can only imagine what Joyce felt watching her boys go and the pain of losing hope.
But she was an artist. She took every thought and dream and passion that she had and, although it may not have made sense at the time, took what confusion she was feeling and made it tangible. Pain soothed by beauty. Heartache into prayer.
I often sit and stew in my own pain. A pain which only some people fully realize. I pray daily for assistance and salvation and hope. I look for answers and direction and focus. At times I feel selfish, with people across the globe facing much greater obstacles than myself. True poverty. True hunger. True oppression. And I wonder why God decides to test us like this.
Clergy will say that its because we can handle it. The cross is never heavier than we can carry. We suffer so that others can grow. There is a reason, but there is always doubt.
Today, I have been thinking about Joyce and her abundant love for her children. Her struggle and her faith. The truest testament to her love is her greatest Legacy. Not only in her art, but in her examples to her children and her grandchildren. Staying strong, laughing, and creating beauty in a not beautiful world. Sit and listen. Look at the beauty that has been created. There is a reason.
Oh yes, I really loved this post. For one, my mama has got no domestic skills either. The only thing domestic about her is that she has a kitchen. I'm a fulltime wife and mama, so I stay busy with the domestic skills that I've taught myself through books, youtube and trial and error. For another, I struggle with stewing in my own pain as well. I try to always remember that if someone other than me described what they were dealing with, and it was "only" what I was dealing with, I would hug that person and give them sympathy and comfort. Why should the rules be any different for me than they are for other people? I would never judge someone else that came to me with what may have seemed like a "minor" problem. I *try* not to do it to myself, but it doesn't always work out. Anyway, I hope you'll think of that the next time you feel badly about your own misery. Remember that everyone's problem is huge to them
ReplyDeleteA very serious blog this time. We can learn from Joyce. That is what I do every day. I learn from brave people. I am quite a bit older. I have had so many wonderful years, but I have also had many sad, lonely, difficult years. I have prayed and prayed. And I would think to myself, why I've prayed, how come the Lord has not answered me. It took me awhile and now I can laugh and see He did listen and He did answer me but I did realize that He had different ways He wanted me to live my life. I see it now. I love my life. I have been blessed. I pray for you, Sue, and Joyce and all your readers and your family. Thanks for giving me a chance to share.
ReplyDeleteOh, my dear, darling D.
ReplyDeleteAnd, as they say, when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.
It hurts so badly sometimes, and we wonder just how much God trusts us, that He would give us this much-- this lesson to teach others. Well, if it were a lesser someone, someone who was not ready, that lesson would not be taught to all who are watching. Bless her family. I love you. Thanks for the lessons. Thanks for still believing in me. Thanks for everything. It means more than you know.
Great writing. While all individual troubles are indeed lesser than most, to us they are a major part our lives. In this blog we could indeed "feel your pain". I wish I could have done more for you. Hang in there. You are helping many of us.
ReplyDeleteJoyce was not only my friend but my cousin. We only met about 26 years ago but she became my very good friend and confidant. We found out we had SO much in common and looked a lot alike which is something we had a lot of fun with. What talent wrapped up in one package! Joyce was also a giver of her talent and of herself. Those that miss her number in the legions! Jan Hammilton
ReplyDeleteI would rather learn the domestics from a book than strength, independence and confidence from a book. Our mom taught us different lessons and talents that invaluable to our lives today.
ReplyDeleteI am moved by your story and will think of dear Joyce daily.
Love, Your sister
Oh absolutely Krissy! I just reread that part and what I didn't mention is all of the things that she DID teach us and there is not enough space in this little blog area to list those things. Confidence, independence and tenacity. That Anne was one amazing lady too! Moms are great!
ReplyDeleteFrom a broadcaster whose last couple of career moves more than blew up in my face, God answer prayers in unpredictable ways!
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