When the boys and Richard go skiing, I take the day to buy groceries, clean, and watch BBC dramas. Last weekend I sewed a doll face and hair. The weekend before that I went to IFA to see the chicks and bunnies.
Mark was with me on the IFA trip and we giggled together as we followed the cheep-cheep-cheeping sounds to find the chicks.
This weekend the boys will ski again. I have plans to decorate fancy sugar cookies and watch the annual Easter egg hunt in my parents’ garden at Spring Lake.
It’s amazing that out of all the billions of people who had ever lived, no one has had a heartbeat exactly like yours.
In the same way, God has given each of us a unique emotional heartbeat that races when we think about the subjects, activities, or circumstances that interest us. We instinctively care about some things and not about others. These are the clues to where you should be serving.
…Don’t ignore your interests; consider how they might be used for God’s glory. There is a reason that you love those things.
-Rick Warren, “The Clues to Where you Should be Serving,” RickWarren.org, September 26, 2015
Last January my friend Heather shared this quote in a lesson at church about making goals for the New Year. This quote inspired me to make some specific goals according to my interests.
My goal to make dolls was my favorite from last year. It only brought joy…and empathy…and love…and friends.
I realized that writing is a way I can serve. I gave myself permission to write, from little pieces about family and motherhood, to letters and journal entries. I learned that people enjoy a great letter; that sometimes a piece of writing is just the right thing to help someone through a confusing or heartbreaking time. I have loved writing our family stories to share with the kids and Richard.
I focused on music, resolving to always have a piece or two ready to perform on my violin. I wanted to be more prepared for last minute requests to play. I played only two times in public last year, but I was calm and prepared. The extra practice made a difference.
There were other goals, met with varying success, but I learned that our interests ARE an indication of where we can focus our efforts and serve people best. So many New Year’s resolutions are about improving what we can’t do well. Last year I learned to make goals that emphasized my strengths and interests to help others. It was a good year.
This week I finished the dress for this little girl doll and my sister-in-law Care finished the Captain America costume for the little boy doll. The costume was designed by Care, and includes many fabulous details, including a custom shield, patriotic undies, and boots! The little boy doll took a lot more time than the little girl doll because of the embroidered hair and the custom costume. The eyes on the little girl are patterned after the eyes of my friend’s child. Paige helped me identify all the shades of green, blue, and brown thread to capture her beauty. I can’t stop looking at these happy dolls.
I am working on getting rid of a bad habit. Whenever I am tempted to run to that familiar pattern, I try to do something else. “Do anything but [my bad habit],” I tell myself. This means that I give myself permission to do any wonderful thing that I want.
This weekend I stitched this doll to keep me from falling back to my bad habit. I did other things, too, but it’s nice to have something positive to show for my battle.
The stroller
Spring of 1998 was the first time I watched the Texas bluebonnets bloom along the roadways. We were building a new house. I had time to do projects and I spent some of that time sewing clothing for one-year-old Paige. I bought cheerful flowered fabrics for play clothes and a gauzy organza fabric for her Easter dress.
This time was the beginning of a focused effort to acquire toys for our little girl. I didn’t know then that toys are something you only need to buy for a few years. Once you’ve got a good collection, they seem to multiply magically in the closets and bins.
One day I drove Paige to the mall in Cedar Park to visit the toy store. Paige picked out a pink doll-sized stroller, a perfect size for her to push. She was so excited about it that I let her push the stroller through the mall. She began to move ahead of me and I was left to follow her. I watched her bob ahead of me with her cute short haircut, hot pink sandals, and handmade pink dress. Because I was a few steps behind her, I saw the smiles from shoppers as they noticed this little woman walking so confidently with her stroller.
I can still remember the rattly-scraping sound that the wheels made on the floors and sidewalks. I will never forget the print of her pink dress nor the love she granted to each of her dolls that rode in the stroller.
I don’t know why certain memories stay with me while others are lost. Perhaps this memory of Paige pushing her stroller stays because her little form, pushing forward on her own, became a glimpse of what I would experience again and again, observing her become more independent. I couldn’t have appreciated at the time that this scene was the first of many, where I would watch our children move beyond our reach to become who they are.
Just as I watched the smiles of strangers that day, I’ve seen the delight that my children’s reaching has pulled from observers. I’ve been blessed with friends who have loved our children and doted on them and shown support for their dance, baseball, and piano feats. The feeling I have at these moments when my children perform or move to the next phase is full, sometimes painful, and expansive. My heart races to catch up as my children move ahead with strengths I couldn’t imagine for them.
It’s when I give them the freedom to move out of my reach that I’ve had better perspective of what they can become. But, oh, the ache that comes with my smile!
I know I already posted a picture of this doll, but I finished her this week. I find these faces calming, and that’s good medicine. Have a great day.
Happy Monday! This is what I worked on this weekend during the rain, and now the sun is here and I have this bright face to look at every few minutes all day long.
Have you ever talked yourself out of giving a gift? I’m at that phase of giving where I hope that my generosity doesn’t seem silly, misplaced, juvenile, or crazy. Have you ever read Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli? There are elements of Stargirl in me. I remember important dates in people’s lives. I don’t play the ukelele, but I serenaded almost every sister who joined our Relief Society in Texas with my guitar when I visited their homes. I try to figure out people’s tastes in food, music, literature, and color. I feel deeply for people in their struggles. I don’t know what to say most of the time, so I think of things to give people. But that doesn’t mean that it’s easy to give. What if my gift makes them feel uncomfortable?
You can do this, Angie. You can do this. It’s just a doll. And 99% of the time, it is worth it to show that you care.
I am working on this beauty this week. The lighting is bad today (snow!) so I will wait to take a photo of her finished hair. I fall in love with each doll and of course, every recipient. I love to watch individual beauty emerge with each stitch. I feel a bit like a spectator to their creation, surprised by their “personalities.” She begins her journey, along with a piece of my heart, through the mail to her new home on Friday.
I’ve made some progress in doll making this weekend. Here we see her face, missing pupils and a few final details in the eyes. I’m trying to decide if she is a redhead or a brunette. I am leaning toward brunette. My social media friends have been asked for their vote, and so far they are divided on the hair color. Eventually I hope to make many dolls of many different shades. I am also in love with a concept I found for a little boy doll.
This is so satisfying to see her come to life. I work on her for a little while now and then and come away happy each time.
As I sew, I think of my friends and family members who are facing difficult things. This doll is going to one of them.