No, it’s not a misspelling. It’s what quilters do, keep pieces, scraps of fabric, then piece them together and make something out of seemingly nothing. The result? Something beautiful, memorable to both the quilter and the recipient. But it’s also useful, practical beauty, providing warmth and comfort. Such a quilt in shades of blue rests on a chair in my bedroom. It was a wedding gift from Mama Frey, my Sunday School teacher when we lived in Georgia many years ago. It’s one of the few things I’d grab in case of a fire.
So why talk about quilts while Ukraine’s under fire by Putin and those who support his unprovoked war? Well, it came to me how often, when I was growing up, we used old quilts to make pallets on the floor when we had more people than beds. And as I watch women and children, old and sick fleeing Ukraine, I imagine quilts being spread on floors in homes and churches throughout Poland, Romania, Denmark, Hungary and so many places in Europe. Folks may not view them as such but I think Jesus sees them as holy, sacred scraps.
And so are they and we, with our pieced together lives. Patchworks of Grace. On call to be cushions, pallets, reminders that God chooses us to do Good some how, some way. For example, yesterday my eleven year old grand bounded in from school with an extra measure of enthusiasm.
“Guess what, Momo?”
Well, I couldn’t guess. He’s like a living Wordle puzzle for me only I just get one shot, not six. So back to Basil’s enthusiasm.
“Well, Momo, after school we found this big piece of cardboard by that corner market we stop at to get stuff. (junk food, unavailable at his house) And I had a marker so we wrote, ‘HONK , IF YOU SUPPORT UKRAINE!’ And we stood out there for like 45 minutes and folks kept honking. It was great!”
And I thought the world’s full of kids and adults who want to help when bad things happen. We just need the equivalent of a piece of cardboard, a marker, a quilt to demonstrate we care. Something to show a hurting neighbor or world, that our arms, homes and hearts are open to help. Something is better than nothing. Perhaps, someone who honked returned home and contributed to a humanitarian organization or church helping refugees, or stopped to pray for people suffering in many parts of this world, like Ethiopia.
As small as it was, it seemed that God in an eleven year old boy nudged him to do what he could with what he had. And only God knows what will come from Basil’s piece keeping mission.
Or of yours and mine.
Piece by piece, miracles still happen.
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