The thought of grit that comes to my mind is from an old movie I’ve long forgotten except the title: TRUE GRIT. Stick-to-it, bear through all sorts of pain for the goal you have, perseverance, grit. (And of course there’s the dirty side of things.)
Imagine a scrap of fabric.
Torn or cut apart. In odd shapes. Maybe each one is slightly different.
Someone working at it, but the fabric doesn’t know for what. The worker knows, and it’s a big project and the worker keeps going because there is a goal, a dream in mind.
I went to a quilt museum in PA on Tuesday. I was just amazed at the beauty that was displayed, and some of the quotes on the wall were worth pondering. (Would you rather be known as a great housekeeper or as a wonderful quilter who left behind many beautiful quilts to keep her family warm for generations?)
This crazy quilt caught my eye, all at once and in small details:
The fun! The love! Imagine the playful heart sleeping under such a quilt. Would cure insomnia for me, I’m sure, fingering the details lovingly planned and stitched.
We’ll end with a gorgeous white bedspread:
and a beautiful cathedral window quilt,
like the one my grandmother made for me,
and told me, “every stitch is a prayer for you.”
And her colored pieces weren’t set in a pattern like this one
but instead kept me searching for matches,
a game of memory I could play on my own.
Thank you Grandma,
for stitched prayers
and example of true grit.
All thanks and praise to God!