Best Friends and Cross Stitch Parables =)
So my day was made when my best friend, BreAnne, randomly texted me this morning.
"In case you ever meet a giant centipede in your basement and you're going to squish it with a shoe (and you're on carpet) beware... It knows how to play dead and if you leave it there while you gather yourself together after the shock of seeing it... It will be nowhere to be found by the time you return."
I just about died I was laughing so hard. The imagery that played out in my mind was so vivid that I could see it happening as if I were there!...
"Also, you may want to keep a stun gun handy so you can even try to get to the squishing part. They have 100 legs... Which means they can move fast enough to travel through time. This one may have traveled from the dinosaur ages... I'm pretty sure that was the last time giant centipedes were able to live long enough to get quite so giant."
After I expressed my deep hate for anything with lots of legs (especially giant-supposed-to-be-extinct things), she said,
"Yes. I think I may need therapy now. I can't find it. Where would a partially squished centipede go? You wouldn't imagine it could move very fast seeing as some of the 100 legs are now squished and all..."
As far as I know, the giant prehistoric centipede was never discovered... but I sure did laugh my head off and it completely made my day! Thanks, Bre!
Now you're probably wondering why in the world a person would partially title their blog after a cross stitch, let alone a parable about cross stitching. But let me explain. I'm working on a cross stitch that is quite possibly the size of a small European country and it is certainly a love-hate relationship.
I started working on the background yesterday and after finding the correct color of thread (no small feat, I assure you), cutting the monstrous thing in half so as to make it usable (if I don't cut the thread in half, I just look at it wrong and it ties itself into a knot), and counting no less than 53 tiny squares, I started the process. I stitched away for probably 15+ minutes before suddenly remembering that I was supposed to be doing a half stitch, not an actual cross stitch. I immediately began the tedious process of unpicking.
I guess that's why a person is supposed to pay attention to the directions. =)
Well, in the same 1 x 1 square, in the space of a day and a half, I made at least 3 mistakes that lead me to unpick my precious thread 3 times. If any of you have ever cross stitched and had to unpick your work, you know that not only do you feel like you've just wasted 15 more minutes of your life you'll never get back, but it makes your thread look rather disheveled. I mean, really.
I grunted as I realized my third mistake and thought about throwing the whole thing out the window. Then I had the realization that life is a lot like a cross stitch (bear with me!).
You may have heard the poem "My Life Is But A Weaving"... well.... I like to tweak the idea a little. It seems to me that the underside of a cross stitch is how we see our lives, but the top of the cross stitch is what the Lord sees. If you looked at the back, you'd never, ever, EVER believe it would turn out to be something beautiful-- but once you flip it over, it is intricate, beautiful, and perfect. Every stitch was meant to be and aided in making the finished product.
My escapade of near constant unpicking the past two days lent me yet another crafty parable. If I would have just read the instructions and payed attention the first time, I would have been saved from a lot of grief, headaches, and mistakes. However, I was still able to unpick it and start fresh. It took a lot more time to unpick and start over, but regardless, I was able to do it with a little elbow grease and the right tools.
See where I'm going with this? Or am I truly, genuinely crazy?
I like to think of the scriptures as the instruction manual. It lays everything out for the taking, but we have to pay attention and follow along to understand. We have to know how to read it, and we have to learn from what we read. If we don't, we make unnecessary mistakes and sin when it could have been avoided. Heavenly Father has provided a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, to make it possible to repent and be made clean again. If we would've perhaps payed a little closer attention in the first place, we could have saved precious time and tears that were spent repenting... but regardless, we are forgiven if our repentance is acceptable and sincere.
Now look up a few paragraphs and reread where I first started explained the parable (it starts "My escapade"). Does the similarity strike you now? I, uh, hope? I could just be rambling off randomness that only makes sense to me, but I couldn't help but share it with you all, too, just in case.
"In case you ever meet a giant centipede in your basement and you're going to squish it with a shoe (and you're on carpet) beware... It knows how to play dead and if you leave it there while you gather yourself together after the shock of seeing it... It will be nowhere to be found by the time you return."
I just about died I was laughing so hard. The imagery that played out in my mind was so vivid that I could see it happening as if I were there!...
"Also, you may want to keep a stun gun handy so you can even try to get to the squishing part. They have 100 legs... Which means they can move fast enough to travel through time. This one may have traveled from the dinosaur ages... I'm pretty sure that was the last time giant centipedes were able to live long enough to get quite so giant."
After I expressed my deep hate for anything with lots of legs (especially giant-supposed-to-be-extinct things), she said,
"Yes. I think I may need therapy now. I can't find it. Where would a partially squished centipede go? You wouldn't imagine it could move very fast seeing as some of the 100 legs are now squished and all..."
As far as I know, the giant prehistoric centipede was never discovered... but I sure did laugh my head off and it completely made my day! Thanks, Bre!
Now you're probably wondering why in the world a person would partially title their blog after a cross stitch, let alone a parable about cross stitching. But let me explain. I'm working on a cross stitch that is quite possibly the size of a small European country and it is certainly a love-hate relationship.
I started working on the background yesterday and after finding the correct color of thread (no small feat, I assure you), cutting the monstrous thing in half so as to make it usable (if I don't cut the thread in half, I just look at it wrong and it ties itself into a knot), and counting no less than 53 tiny squares, I started the process. I stitched away for probably 15+ minutes before suddenly remembering that I was supposed to be doing a half stitch, not an actual cross stitch. I immediately began the tedious process of unpicking.
I guess that's why a person is supposed to pay attention to the directions. =)
Well, in the same 1 x 1 square, in the space of a day and a half, I made at least 3 mistakes that lead me to unpick my precious thread 3 times. If any of you have ever cross stitched and had to unpick your work, you know that not only do you feel like you've just wasted 15 more minutes of your life you'll never get back, but it makes your thread look rather disheveled. I mean, really.
I grunted as I realized my third mistake and thought about throwing the whole thing out the window. Then I had the realization that life is a lot like a cross stitch (bear with me!).
You may have heard the poem "My Life Is But A Weaving"... well.... I like to tweak the idea a little. It seems to me that the underside of a cross stitch is how we see our lives, but the top of the cross stitch is what the Lord sees. If you looked at the back, you'd never, ever, EVER believe it would turn out to be something beautiful-- but once you flip it over, it is intricate, beautiful, and perfect. Every stitch was meant to be and aided in making the finished product.
My escapade of near constant unpicking the past two days lent me yet another crafty parable. If I would have just read the instructions and payed attention the first time, I would have been saved from a lot of grief, headaches, and mistakes. However, I was still able to unpick it and start fresh. It took a lot more time to unpick and start over, but regardless, I was able to do it with a little elbow grease and the right tools.
See where I'm going with this? Or am I truly, genuinely crazy?
I like to think of the scriptures as the instruction manual. It lays everything out for the taking, but we have to pay attention and follow along to understand. We have to know how to read it, and we have to learn from what we read. If we don't, we make unnecessary mistakes and sin when it could have been avoided. Heavenly Father has provided a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, to make it possible to repent and be made clean again. If we would've perhaps payed a little closer attention in the first place, we could have saved precious time and tears that were spent repenting... but regardless, we are forgiven if our repentance is acceptable and sincere.
Now look up a few paragraphs and reread where I first started explained the parable (it starts "My escapade"). Does the similarity strike you now? I, uh, hope? I could just be rambling off randomness that only makes sense to me, but I couldn't help but share it with you all, too, just in case.
Love the parable! It seems to coincide perfectly with the reality of our lives, and the course/path we take. It's full of hurdles, and taking 1 step back to take 3 steps forward. Sometimes it may seem like we're on an endless rollercoaster ride, and in a sense, we are. But as long as we are making progress in perfecting ourselves in Christ, the long arduous trek will be well worth the work it takes to get there!
ReplyDeleteLove you, babe!
nope... I never found it. Before we went to bed that night I had to pull of our blanket and sheet and shake them so I knew it hadn't burrowed away in our bed. Tyler came in and said " You made the bed? wow you're awesome" or something along those lines and after agreeing with him :) I had to tell him the real reason why I'd done it, and I ask him "where would it go?!" he suggested that it was eaten by another centipede... great! a MORE giant centipede? that makes me feel so much better.
ReplyDelete