Card Pile-Up

I've been on a creative drought for a long time waiting for my husband's return. But, for the past couple days I've been on a roll. Here's one for the OWH Sketch Challenge #78:

I hand-stitched the edges because I wanted a thicker strand than a sewing machine would give me.  I also bought some new Copic markers, so I played with them on the cupcakes. The stamp is a very old CTMH image. The paper is also discontinued CTMH in Neapolitan colors. YUM!

Until next time,

Becca

My Hero

He's HOME!

Sacrifice

Sacrifice measures depth of love.

Want to know if someone loves you? Easy. What are they willing to give up for you?

A couple days ago, I had a conversation with the mother of a special needs child. The whole family has given up many things in order to accommodate one member. Being a modern mom, she is networked with other families with children sharing her daughter's condition. She was pretty fed up with the string of e-mails from parents unwilling to make their own sacrifices. Why would a parent risk a kid's health because it would cost an extra $100 a month to make a change? Especially since both parents work full time.

On this 4th of July holiday, and with the subject matter of my novel, I am reminded of the things given up in order to secure our independence. As I wait for my husband to return from his year in Afghanistan, I have a glimpse of what it must have been like for colonial women to kiss their husbands goodbye. But only a glimpse. They had no Skype, reliable mail service, or even an eventual return date. Add to that the amount of work which fell on their shoulders to keep up the home farm and animals. And what of the men? The left their families at a time when too many soldiers (on both sides of the fight) thought unattended women were...shall we say "fair game" to keep the PG rating on this blog. Overwhelming! All because they loved a dream which had about as much chance of becoming reality as I do of becoming an Olympic gymnast.

Closer to home, how do I know my husband loves me? Because, for 25 years, he went to work every day at jobs which were less than his ideal in order to provide a roof over my head and food on our table. He gives up his time and energy to do things with me which are NOT on his list of fun things to do (think ballet and opera) because I want to do them. He knows I love him by the sacrifices I make to either do things he wants or give him time with his own friends.

Why do I create hand-made cards? Because the sacrifice of time speaks more to communicate my love for the recipient than the actual pieces of paper or sentiment.

John 15:13 "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."

There are many ways of laying down your life. Very few involve physical death. Most are putting to death your own plans, dreams, hopes or desires in order to accommodate those you love.

Sacrifice measures depth of love.

Until next time,
Becca

Honor the Dead

Gen. 50
Two deaths, two burials, two last wishes left for others to carry out. Jacob and his son, Joseph, have specific instructions for what they want done with their bones after they die. It takes the whole chapter. Why? How important can it really be to fulfill a last request? The person is dead, after all. What do they care?


Several weeks ago, I watched "The Art of the Steal" which documents the systematic, legal plundering of a man's private art collection by the City of Philadelphia. The collection features the best of impressionistic painters like Renoir, Cezanne, Matisse, and Picasso. Valued at about 25 billion (yes...that's billion with a "b"), the original owner left very specific instructions about what he did and did not want to happen to his collection after his death. Sixty years later, every specific has been violated. But why would he care? He's dead, after all.

So why does our sense of justice scream, "Foul!" Why does God devote an entire chapter to the last wishes of two patriarchs? Putting on my very theological cap, I think the point is that, even if the dead are not around to care any longer, God cares. And because He does, we'd better.


Until next time,
Becca

Writing Update.

Hate.
Every.
Sentence.

Until Next Time,
Becca

Birthday Blessings

It's 87 degrees inside my house right now...at least upstairs, so I am downstairs crafting away in my basement. Whew! Besides, I'm heading out to a birthday party tonight and need a special card for a special lady.

This is based off the Mojo Monday Sketch 194.

This is the first dimensional flower I've made using a strip of paper accordion folded and then formed into a circle. I used scallop edges scissors to give it a little bit of petal curve.

Paper, stamps and ribbon are all CTMH. I didn't have a circle punch to create the scalloped edge as shown in the sketch, so I cut 3/4 inch squares and set them on the diagonal. I zig-zag stitched the strips and then planned to go all the way around the square with another zig-zag, but as I went to turn the corner, I noticed I'd run out of thread. Since I thought it looked kinda cool, I did it on the bottom, too.

Off to run some errands in my air-conditioned car at the air-conditioned post office and grocery store.

Until next time,
Becca

Saying Goodbye

Today I'm off to help some dear friends pack up and move out. It's part of this Army life, but that doesn't mean I have to like it...at all. This couple has been instrumental in making our first experience with the Army great. Jeff has just been promoted to full-bird Colonel, and they are moving to Pennsylvania so he can attend the War College.

(Do you know why it's called "full-bird"? I didn't. The rank insignia for a Lt. Col. is a maple leaf. When you get promoted to Col., the insignia changes to the eagle with wings spread. You refer to both in conversation as "Col. So and So", thus the need to differentiate between a Col. and a full-bird Col. That will be 5 cents for the lesson, please.)

Frankly, I don't mind if Jeff goes. Don't get me wrong...he's a wonderful man who held the position of Division Chaplain here at Ft. Carson with intelligence, humor, and compassion. But his wife, Lisa...  There are no words to explain what she has meant to me personally and to all the chaplain spouses here. She needs to stay. However, after 7 deployments, she's not going for the idea of remaining here while hubby moves on alone.

But...duty calls and so, armed with rubber gloves and a mop, I'm off to help them break my heart.

Until next time,
Becca