Stocking Up

My roommates decided that for Christmas this year it was absolutely imperative that we have stockings. Now, I personally have never been crazy about the whole stocking thing in general. Growing up my mom made stockings for each one of us out of felt embroidered with our names each in a different color.  She hung them up every Christmas and I assume at one time or another we did actually use them. However, I can't say that I remember it much. Then we moved into houses that didn't have mantles to hang stockings from and it just wasn't as cool. Plus my mom was running out of different colors of felt! (hey, there's a lot of us!) One year my parents had us put out our slippers instead and I remember finding them filled the next morning. Then my parents changed up the game a little and started just putting candy and giant fruit in cups at our place at the table. That way we got something when we got up that morning, but still didn't open any presents until everyone was assembled.
So needless to say, when I moved away, I did not have a stocking to take with me. I assume that somewhere packed away, my mom still has all the felt ones, but in the interest of being my own crafty self I thought that if the roommates wanted to do stockings, then I would just make one myself! Come to find out not all the gals had stockings anyway, so I decided to come up with 2 or 3 designs from "that one website" as my brother calls it, and went to town.

Well I easily found something that would be great for my first roommate.
First you start with an old sweater. I found one at a thrift store that was checkered in green, red, and blues with a nice country Christmas feel to it. Ideally it would have been argyle, her favorite, but it was only $2. I cut out a stocking pattern and stitched the sides lovingly together. (I say lovingly because I got rid of my sewing machine when I moved due to lack of room so when it came to this project I ended up doing it all by hand. whew!)
I added my roommate's initial in felt on top of burlap and stitched it in place with a few x-stitch x's. Topped it off with a old Christmas light bulb and ribbon for added country type charm.

Next I got a pair of old little girls pants (this pair happened to have adorable little stars on the pockets and stars on the cuffs which I was able to incorporate.) These were also $2 at the thrift store. The cuffs I cut off the bottom and flattened out to make the toes for the stocking. I cut an extra seam off to be the stocking loop and fastened it all together like so. Added some extra embellishments like clothes pins on the pockets and my roommate's initial in the middle of the star to finish it off. The only really hard part about this one was sewing on top of the jeans fabric, especially near any seam or through multiple thicknesses. I am afraid I murdered my poor fingers by this time, and so I had to resort to a cheating method to fashion this together. But I'll preserve some semblance of my artistic integrity and not tell you how it was that I cheated.

This stocking was one of my favorites. My roommate is in the United State Air Guard and very proud of her service to her country, as we all are of her. She originally had a stocking, but when she saw the ones that I was making for the rest of the roommates she begged me to make one using her old ABUs that no longer fit. This is the finished product.
I was worried at first that it was going to be illegal or offensive to cut these up, or that I wasn't actually allowed to use the official badges on anything that wasn't AF sanctioned, but she assured me that it was alright. I wanted to make sure that even though it was in the military theme that I made sure that it was girly as well, and since she really likes roses, I included one on the bottom as added decoration. The flap detailing on the toes I thought turned out well also.

 

This was perhaps the most difficult one to make. This was the last stocking that I made, but I had a hard time getting it to come together. My roommate asked me to make this out of an old sweater of hers. When she was 13 her childhood home burnt to the ground and this was one of the few things that she was able to grab on her way out the door. She said she had considered throwing it away since it no longer fit, but hadn't brought herself to do it yet. This was a loving way of re-purposing something which means so much to her. Since it wasn't an inherently Christmas pattern I decided to add the snowflake detail and her name in felt. You can't see them well in this photo, but the buttons running down the stocking are a nice feature as well. I topped it off with a red ribbon and some embellished rope for a little rugged feel to tone down the intensity of the reds.

Last, but not least is my stocking. I had a hard time deciding on what I wanted for my stocking, but I've really been into burlap recently, so that's what I decided to go with. I had to line the stocking with muslin to make sure it would stay together and hold its contents well. I was super paranoid about the seams ripping out, so I ended up gluing the burlap to itself within the seams for extra security after I was done stitching. Of course with something this rustic you have to add lots of embellishments, so I put on a tag with my name, giraffe print bow to rep Africa, an old Converse tag I found lying around, and of course had to add in some green striped ribbon around the top.

Here they are all together. All told I spent a grand total of $6 on this entire project since I had all the embellishments already in my stockpile of craftiness. Pre-fab stockings cost anywhere from $10 for really plain ones to $50 for really embellished ones.

Mine are definitely better in all aspects.

I kind of love how each one has their own look and feel to them. As unique as my roommates themselves. But they all look beautiful hung up on my china cabinet together, as we also do when we live and work and play and love and pray together. 

I can't wait to fill them all with Christmas goodies for my roomies!

When is Christmas again?

Paula Jo

Tuesday this last week marked an important occasion in my life: my dear mother's birthday. I tried to look for a card that would say what I wanted so desperately to tell her, but everything fell flat. I couldn't even find a good gift for her birthday. I was feeling rather discouraged, and so, as I often do, I sat down to write. I had originally intended to write a letter to her and try and say everything that I wanted to, but I kept getting interrupted and it wasn't flowing quite the way that I wanted it to.
The hard thing about writing to one's mom is that everything that you say, no matter how sincerely felt and meant, sounds like a cheesy Hallmark card. No matter how badly you want to tell her how much she means to you, its hard to fight past the cliche and actually say what you mean.
For example, I want to say thank you. But I can't just say "thank you", because even though that encompasses a vast myriad of situations, endless selfless giving on her part, and too many words of encouragement to count when I say it, there's a flatness to it that sounds so trite. The truth is that I am just so stinkin' blessed to have her as my mom, but even that doesn't begin to describe how I feel or how incredible she is to have in my life.
I was talking to my patient the other day about all the teachers that he has had and I got to tell him that I only had one. He was amazed when I explained that my mom was my only teacher. When I said that though, it got me to thinking and I realized how much she really did teach me. My Mom not only taught me school for grades K-12, which is a pretty daunting task, but I use so many other household skills that she taught me every day.
It seems sorta silly, but cooking is a lost art that my mom imparted me with not only a thorough knowledge of, but also a good healthy love for. I can proudly say that I can improvise, follow recipes, make passable homemade bread, and wow people with all the amazing recipes that she has passed on. She also taught me how to sew, another lost art, and passed on a respect for making things ones self. She loved making creative things for our birthdays every year, and used to delight in staying up late to put the finishing touches on a new church dress so I could wear it the next day. I'm still not great at sewing, but cross stitch, embroidery, and crafts we both enjoy. She taught me how to keep house, clean, and organize. While some may argue that those are lessons I didn't learn very well, I would just like to go on record and say that my implementation of said skills does not reflect the degree to which I learned those lessons nor should it reflect poorly on my teacher!
Growing up my mom was my idol. All I wanted to be when I grew up was a homemaker just like my mom. She taught me how to make a house a home, and to this day I never feel like people live in a place unless there are curtains on the windows and pictures on the walls. Dusty colors of blue always remind me of her, especially if there is a little rose colored accents. I love that she invented her own style of decorating that she calls "Victorian Country". She pulls of the concept beautifully, and it really suits her very well.
But my mom is not just a homemaker and homeschool teacher. She has this amazing alter-ego (pardon the comic book reference, Mom; I'm part Daddy too! *winks) which I like to think of as "PJ", the nickname that she used to go by. She collected the Family Circus comics that featured PJ and kept them around her room growing up. PJ I like to think of as the fun side of my mother. I think that sometimes when I was growing up I forgot about this side of her nature and it was easy to just see her as someone who was going to make me do schoolwork or chores, but I don't think the fun side of my mom was ever not there, even when I couldn't see it. Sometimes I like to shock people by telling them about the time that she dressed up with a blonde wig and different glasses and tricked people in her dorm for an entire semester into thinking she had another roommate. There is also the story about her killing a rat with her bare fist because it dared to run across her freshly cleaned kitchen counter. In high school she could change tires when the boys couldn't, raised calves for 4H, and embroidered Oscar Meyer hotdogs all over her jeans jacket. My mom truly likes to laugh and will surprise attack you with her wit when you are least expecting it. I love going by the name "Jo" partly because its her middle name.
I think the biggest thing though that my mom taught me has been in the area of character. I should rightfully say, continues to teach me, though, as I see her amazing example continued in every day life. She is a beautiful example of the gentle and quiet spirit that God so delights in. I would never say that my mom has had really flashy style or beauty queen hair and makeup. But she has something really beautiful about her that sparkles out of her gentle green eyes, and glistens off her now whitened hair, and belies itself in the soft smile creases of her face. You don't have to look very closely to see that her outward appearance gives away a wise and caring soul.
I've been so blessed for all the lessons that she has taught me about patience and love for her family, even when we were less than pleasant or obedient kids. She always has time to listen, and I can recall countless times in the kitchen, especially during nursing school where we cooked and I vented all my frustrations with school and studying. She always listened, encouraged, and spurred me on. She's also the most self-less person I know. My mom will go way out of her way to think of, pray for, and show love to the people that God has brought into her life.
My mom married my dad after college, and I really appreciate her commitment to their marriage. Its a really big blessing in this day and age to never even have to be slightly concerned about your parents parting ways. I am so blessed that I never had to worry about this growing up, as my mom showed me an excellent example of what it means to be a good wife as well. She was quick to model teamwork, self-less love, honoring her husband, and enjoying her husband's company. I could never hope to live up to her example, but want to with all my heart.
So, when it comes down to it, I should say thank you Mom. Thank you for all the love and care growing up. Thank you for being more than my mom now, but being my friend. I know I can always count on you to encourage me in my job or my creativity or even my dreams of someday down the road. Thank you for always listening, even when I'm hard to understand and don't make a lot of sense. Thank you for the example of a Godly woman that you have been in my life. Thank you for taking the time to teach me so many things.
I love you so much Mom and even though one silly blog post is not enough to say how much, I hope you know that you are loved and appreciated and respected.
Happy Birthday Mom.
With Love, Your Daughter, Jo

Thoughts and Smatterings

Normally, I am a huge New Testament kind of girl. I love the writings of Paul in particular, so its super funny/ironic that the verses that have blessed me the most in my reading through the Bible in a year have actually been in the Old Testament.
Of course I always love Isaiah, (its my love language, okay) but I've been super encouraged by the other OT books as well. Which is good since the Old Testament passages are ten times longer than the New Testament ones more times than not. I'm not gonna lie, usually I just skim over those passages since I feel like they are so boring and dry, but I keep consistently finding really precious nuggets of truth in these books and it still surprises me every time, even thought its been going on all year!
Ironically there are a couple of guys next to me in the coffee shop that are going over the same topic that I was just reading about in my morning devo: Melchizedek. Strange concept and yet the imagery is pretty strong. We have a priest who is a priest not just from descent, but from divine appointment. An intercessor between us and God. Namely: Jesus.
Yet another thing that I love about Manhattan and will miss when I am gone. Being able to sit in a coffee shop with so many people around me reading their Bibles and journalling. Its great not knowing them at all and yet feeling like you are connected just by the fact that they are seeking God as well. Sometimes it helps me to see them here, and makes me more motivated to continue seeking God myself.

In other news, I've been thinking about Uganda a lot lately. It scares me to think that I am going there soon (that is if God works everything out). But its a good kind of scary. The kind that I know I will hate, up until the time that I do it, and then I will love it to death, and never want it to stop!! (adrenaline junky? maybe). Anyway, I was planning on going this December to visit again and pray really hard core and look into some options for next year for a job or ministry to work with. The more I think about it though, the more I wonder if now is the time to do that... and honestly, I don't know the answer. I really, really, really, really, really miss the people, the culture, and the closeness to God that I feel when I am in Uganda. But that alone is not a good enough reason to spend money to hop a plane... I think...
But then again, it could be the devil's voice seeking to drown out my own. So I went ahead and bought tickets and booked my flights! And now I can't wait to go home, even if it will just be for 2 weeks. :)

The Funny Thing About That...

Today someone asked me about the guy that I had been dating. It was kind of ironic, cause I had been thinking of him a little this week. I'm not sure why. Its been 10 months now since he said goodbye to me. I remember having a strange peace about it despite the intense pain that day. I remember only crying once that day for the equivalent of 4 sobs on a friend's shoulder. I remember all the awkward messages we sent to one another after that, trying to figure everything out, bring some sort of closure. I remember acutely going through all of Keubler-Ross's stages of grief.
Denial: we aren't over. We can't be over. God promised me that I should ask Him and He'd work it out, so it can't truly be over, right?
Anger: How can he just treat me like this when I was so amazing to him? He's a jerk! I want to hurt him! I want to take back everything I ever gave him. I want to hurt HER for taking him. What gives him the right to use me like that?
Bargaining: Look God, I'll pray for him every day. I can be good and I won't nag him anymore and I'll be the picture of a gentle and quiet spirit.
Depression: Its just not gonna happen. It was doomed from the beginning. I'm not that great of a catch. Its understandably why he didn't love me. He's a commitment-phobe anyway with honesty problems and family problems and it was bound to fail. Everyone else knew that; they could see it clearly. I was just a fool.
and finally...
Acceptance: God has something (perhaps MANY THINGS!) to teach me in and through this relationship, (even its failure). But God is not through just because he is! God doesn't leave me or forsake me. He doesn't leave me as an orphan, but comes to me. He loves me unconditionally so I don't need his love. Not then, not now, not tomorrow, not next week, not ever! The Creator of the stars and waterfalls finds me beautiful and assures me that I never need to wake to someone that won't satisfy me. He says that when I awake I can be satisfied with merely seeing His likeness and with assurance of His unfailing love! Gosh, how lucky a girl am I??!?!? The Lord of the universe knows my name, how many hairs are on my head (even though they keep falling out!), and He cares deeply about every love and fear of my inmost secret heart! What else could I ever need?

Whew...
I actually wrote all that when the pain was still fresh. I just realized today though how much it is okay.
See someone asked me how we were doing and I replied that we weren't together anymore. As she asked me more, I had to admit that it had been a while that we hadn't been together. I think she felt bad that she didn't know, and I quickly assured her that it was okay. Then I had to catch myself, because I realized to my great surprise that it really was okay. I really do look back on all that with a sense of deep gratitude for everything that God has brought me through. Sometimes I smile to myself and enjoy my freedom that I have now. See, since I have plans to leave the country soon, it would be irresponsible to be in a relationship at this point in time. Plus, the longer that I live the more convinced I am of my complete and utter lack of the maturity required to handle a relationship with any sort of decorum. And that fact alone scares the living daylights out of me! I figure if it this keeps up, the exponential growth itself will soon top out with me being thoroughly convinced to never be in a relationship ever again! ;)
Its okay, you can all laugh at that! (I do... on a regular basis.)
Anyway, as my dear friend reminded me, God must have something much better planned. I replied, "Undoubtedly," and then, to my surprise, found that I actually believed that as well!
This may be funny to some of you, or cliche, if you are around lots of Christian girls that like to use this passage to fuel their demented ideas of romanticism, but Isaiah 54 has been a really big comfort to me. Something about the fact that God Himself has already promised to be all that we need (the same as He was for the Israelites, He is for us under the New Covenant), just satisfies my heart in a way that I can't explain.
Plus God promised me a long time ago that even if I never get married and never have any biological children that He would still give me children. People to teach and train and pray over and sacrifice for and love and mother. Isaiah 54 reminds me of this promise and helps me to be committed to looking around me for "my (unbiological) children". His faithfulness in bringing those situations in my every day life just astounds me sometimes. But yet, here He is doing it. People and situations that I never expected to happen and God has put me in the exact position to be exactly what that young person needed at that exact moment in time. Strangely, (or perhaps not so strangely) I find myself relishing every single instant of it.