I am going to sew. Or at least something similar to it. Technically I'm going to Hobby Lobby first in search of some kind of magical tape that my mother suggested. She spent about ten minutes last night on facebook chat giving me step-by-step instructions. I was utterly confused, but she was patient and kept right on going. You would think I'm about to piece together a quilt or something. Nope. I just need to hem some pants.
Hey, I've never pretended to be the seamstress of the family.
That's all my mom, and she is nowhere near me.
I'm all on my own here and am seriously considering the benefits of a stapler.
My boy is depending on me, though, so surely I can pull this off without him having to worry about random staples poking him around the ankles. He stands somewhere around 5'11" and these pants are something like six inches too long. He'll have on steel-toe boots and be tromping around a machine shop so surely no one will be inspecting whether or not his hem is straight.
Except for my daughter.
Who will report back to my mom.
I hope I get this right.
It's a big weekend for the oldest, our machine tool wizard. He was hand-picked to represent his machine class in a district competition that could lead to a national win. Wouldn't that be something? He's got a fresh hair cut, neatly pressed (though yet un-hemmed) uniform, and big dreams of a future career.
God's got a plan.
It's another big weekend for another young man I know. I last really knew this boy was he absolutely hating the rules of eighth grade grammar. I remember him well, though. Always polite, always quick to participate, always willing to try. Today he is a young man fresh out of high school and basic training/school. I was chatting with my mom last night (in the midst of her how-to instructions) when I was alerted to another incoming chat. Every now and then I'll get a message from a former student wanting to know how I am.
(Remember yesterday's post? It's those same kids that forever live in my heart.).
Anyway, this message wasn't to ask how I was doing, but to basically say goodbye. It about broke my heart and yet, that's the way life is. He's heading off to Afghanistan this Sunday. Combat medic. Limited communications via postal mail only. Fifteen months. What's a teacher to do?
I told him I would pray for him and to remember what I've always said to any kid I've come in contact with, God's got a plan. I said to lean on Him and just go over there and do what needs to be done. I encouraged him to experience life on the other side of the world and to let me know when he got back. His simple reply? You'll be waiting a long time. Fifteen months is a long time, but particularly to a young man who is about to embark into the unknown, I think. We said our goodbyes and signed off with those sappy little smiley faces and I fought back tears.
You spend time with these kids and then they're not kids anymore. They're adult people doing adult things. I went to bed and thought of a zillion other things I should have said. God's got a plan? Is that really the best I can come up with? And yet, there is no other way to say it.
He does have a plan.
From the day we are born.
We just have to walk it out.
Adam is doing just that and I have no doubt that God will use this gentle man in a powerful way. I'll just be glad when he pops back in on chat to tell me he's home. Until then, I'll be blogging and praying and trying to put a straight hem in a pair of pants my boy needs by Thursday. Surely the same God who knows the number of hairs on my head can help cut an even line.
Even so, I think I'll keep the stapler on stand-by.
Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
you formed me in my mother's womb.
I thank you, High God—you're breathtaking!
you formed me in my mother's womb.
I thank you, High God—you're breathtaking!
Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
before I'd even lived one day.
The days of my life all prepared
before I'd even lived one day.
Psalm 139:13-16 (The Message)
3 comments:
Cliff's mom did all our patching and mending when she was alive. Now anything that needs more attention that perhaps a button being sewed on gets trashed... unless it's a super-easy fix, in which case I ask Rena next door to do it. She can do hard stuff, but she still goes to work daily, so I don't ask her to do anything that will require a lot of time and effort.
You are so funny & genuine! I hope the pants turn out--without having to use the stapler. Funny though...I still feel like a kid...but will have my first "adult" job next year (fingers crossed) when I'm done with school...Hmmmm...when did that happen!?! I LOVE your writing style.
I wore a dress for years that i had hemmed with masking tape. It washed and dried many times without the masking tape coming loose. I loved that dress!
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