With the weekend came more rain, but I welcomed it because it solidified my decision to turn the lovely bolt of black and white ticking I bought last September into curtain panels for my bedroom.
If you look back to last week’s post, you’ll see a photo of the sheer curtains that I temporarily hung in our bedroom until I got around to sewing the curtains I planned to have there all along.
For the sake of honesty, temporarily = one year and one month.
The sheers now hang in Emelie’s little efficiency apartment where they serve the two-fold purpose of softening the light that glares through her mini-blinds while giving the illusion she has much larger windows than she has.
She is happy to have them.
I am happy we could pass them along.
But it also meant buckling down to the task of replacing them.
From the moment I thought of hanging curtains instead of doors (because doors would not fit if Jeff and I actually wanted a bed inside the closet we now happily call our room), I knew I wanted to sew them from ticking.
However, as many of you fully understand, knowing that you want to sew ticking curtain panels and planning a day to accomplish the feat are two entirely different scenarios.
To say I procrastinated is the understatement of the year (literally).
But Saturday morning, after an amazing Bible study (more on that in a minute), I began pulling out all the necessary equipment and accessories.
- Bolt of ticking – Check
- Ironing board and iron – Check
- Sewing machine, extension cord and pedal – Check
- Box of odds and ends (measuring tape, Fiskars, straight pins, sewing gauge, thread, etc.) – Check
I was ready.
Now, if my family would just wake up so I could begin!
Ah, the realities of a small house where waking up early to accomplish a task must be balanced with respecting the sleeping patterns of everyone else in the household.
As I waited, my dreams of starting to sew at 8:00 am quickly gave way to hopes of setting forth by noon.
There was nothing I could do but wait.
It didn’t take long to doubt my planning abilities; namely that I didn’t get everyone to bed much, much earlier the night before.
Trying to harness all my love and respect for Jeff and the kids by waiting patiently (and not slamming cabinets or bursting forth in my Sunday wake-up mantra, “Rise and shine, for the light has come!”), I chose to spend a luxurious amount of uninterrupted time with the Lord.
Because I couldn’t sew, Saturday morning became a medley of prayer journaling, working through the lessons in this week’s study of Ruth in my Ladies Bible Study group, and then, wrapping it all up with a Psalm.
Psalm 44, to be specific.
Written by the Sons of Korah, who also penned Psalm 46:10, “Be still, and know that I am God.”
It is worshipful.
It is honest.
It is painful.
It is relatable.
Psalm 44 felt like the cry of my heart.
The psalm opens with an acknowledgment of God’s power and sovereignty, and His great love for His people.
Recognizing their desperate need of Him in light of their very lives, the Sons of Korah gave God all glory, honor and praise:
“My God, you are my King.
Your commands led Jacob’s people to victory.
With your help we pushed back our enemies.
In your name we trampled those who came against us.
I don’t trust my bow to help me,
and my sword can’t save me.
You saved us from our foes,
and you made our enemies ashamed.
We will praise God every day;
we will praise your name forever.”
Psalm 44:4-8 (NCV)
And then, seemingly in their very next breath, they expressed the depths of their confusion, shame, anger, and suffering.
“But you have rejected us and shamed us. You don’t march with our armies anymore.
Psalm 44:9 (NCV)
“You let our enemies push us back, and those who hate us have taken our wealth.”
Psalm 44:10 (NCV)
“You made us a joke to our neighbors; those around us laugh and make fun of us.”
Psalm 44:13 (NCV)
And yet, despite their shame, which they boldly pinned on God Himself, they chose to remain faithful.
They chose to walk in obedience.
They did not turn away.
“All these things have happened to us,
but we have not forgotten you
or failed to keep our agreement with you.
Our hearts haven’t turned away from you,
and we haven’t stopped following you.
But you crushed us in this place where wild dogs live,
and you covered us with deep darkness.”
Psalm 44:17-19 (NCV)
They did not appear prideful or untoward because they fully recognized that God knew their hearts:
“If we had forgotten our God or lifted our hands in prayer to foreign gods, God would have known, because he knows what is in our hearts.“
Psalm 44:20-21 (NCV)
And so, they cried out in song.
They did what I’ve repeatedly done in my prayer journal as of late.
They cried out the same way all of us do – with finite minds – as beings who cannot grasp the wisdom of God.
Wake up, Lord! Why are you sleeping?
Get up! Don’t reject us forever.
Why do you hide from us?
Have you forgotten our pain and troubles?
We have been pushed down into the dirt;
we are flat on the ground.
Get up and help us.
Because of your love, save us.
Psalm 44:25-26 (NCV)
I read this passage at least four times.
And then, I wrote my own prayer of response in my margin:
Lord, I know you never leave your children. And yet, sometimes that’s exactly how I feel. I’m thankful for this honest song by the Sons of Korah.
You created me.
You know I am only human – that I cannot understand the mind of an Almighty, Sovereign God.
So?
I flail about. Ridiculously so, in your eyes, I’m sure.
I feel alone while I wait for your answers to my prayers. Help me to obey. Help me to believe. Yes, even when I cannot feel your presence. Even when I cannot hear your answers.”
I’ve flipped back to this passage multiple times in the last two days, and I had to share it with you because I stand amazed at God’s way of meshing the perfect passage with our personal life struggles.
He knows how I fight against doubt.
I need to trust. I need not to doubt in the darkness what I knew in the light or as Elizabeth Elliot wrote, “Do not dig up in faith what you planted in wisdom.”
In case you do not know the story of the Sons of Korah, I assure you they fully understood the consequences of going before the Lord with prideful and rebellious hearts.
That wasn’t what this was about…
I believe this Psalm was written and sung earnestly.
With their hearts poured out.
Bodies prostrate.
Desperate before the Father.
What does this have to do with sewing curtains?
Nothing
And?
Everything.
I wanted to get up and sew curtains on Saturday morning.
Everything was ready, but I still had to wait.
I didn’t want to wait.
I didn’t know how long the wait would be.
I was slightly irritated as the morning pressed on and I was the only one up.
But then, I dug into His Word, and He took that waiting and made it into something beautiful.
See, the beauty was in the waiting.
I have prayed morning after morning for the Lord to answer four very specific prayers for my family.
I have cried.
I have been angry.
I have fallen into fear.
I have felt separated from His love.
I have felt wrapped in His love.
The truth is, those are all emotions. He has never left me.
His answers will come in His perfect time.
The beauty is in the waiting.
And if you’re wondering if I ever finished the curtains; no, I didn’t. They are half done, and when I complete them, you’ll get a post with a full photo (or two).
I already love them though.
They are the exact look I wanted.
But! I will not finish them until next Saturday.
Which is fine.
Because I’m learning how to wait.
Now, if you’ve come this far…
I have a Beadboard Ceiling update.
Many of you requested (via the comments and in email) that I create a GoFundMe or provide a PayPal link so you could donate to our goal to save $1550 for our ceiling.
And I’ve been reticent to do so because I did not want to offend anyone nor appear as though we expect anyone to give anything. We don’t.
However, if you do desire to give, I’ve placed a GoFundMe widget in my right sidebar. You can click through it to contribute, or you can click here.
The GoFundMe seemed the most transparent way to manage contributions.
