So, What Do You Do?

What’s something you believe everyone should know.

I believe that everyone should know that your worth is not defined by the career you currently do or do not have.

I wrote an essay on this subject during my post-grad meandering and I believe in this sentiment even more in the eight years since.

Growing up I didn’t realize how blessed the people in my life were because they had steady jobs at the same company. My mom worked for a civil engineering firm and then switched jobs to work at her alma mater when I was five so that she would be commuting less. My Papa had steady employment as a chemistry teacher, a defensive coordinator, a dean of students, and an athletic director. My Grandma had a well-established piano lesson business and worked a 40 to 50 hour schedule of teaching from home. Their careers were not their entire personalities but I associated them as a child with these occupations, I dreamed of being as successful as them, never thinking that a recession or slow job market was possible, I was a kid. It made sense to me that if you worked hard, developed skills, or got a degree that work would find you.

It was quite troubling to me when I put the work in and found myself failing to launch my career at 22. Two years of applying, interviewing, and finding nothing to show for it in my decaying Rust Belt region was a bit hit to my confidence, my ego, and my identity. I would dread social gatherings and new acquaintanceships because of that one lingering question. That dark cumulus nimbus hanging over all interactions – so, what do you do?

A lot of things! I wanted to reply, but any answer other than what my job title was would receive looks of disapproval like I was being immature. As a kid, adults seemed to celebrate things that you are interested in but as an adult myself, they looked at me like I wasn’t trying hard enough. That I was lazy, that I was failing. Falling behind. Nothing going for me. The conversation would either stop there or there would be more questions to get at the root of why I wasn’t where they were at 22 with a job, a house, a spouse, a kid, etc. Once I got married a little pressure came off, but then I was just a wife and unless I hinted at a due date or a new job, the same puzzled looks appeared.

Now this opened my eyes to how poorly we communicate and how shallow our relationships have become in North American society. It’s not dissimilar to how the question of “How’s it going?” or “How are you?” should only be answered with one reply – “Doing well.” or “I’m fine.” Because no one really wants to know, it’s just a greeting. A passing ship. If you answer the question with depth, that’s weird or too personal.

But we don’t have to stay in this place. I believe with each interaction we can change this on a personal level, and it starts by knowing that you are more than what you do. You are not defined by your career or your bank account, that is not where we gain our worth because we are humans and not stock portfolios!

Cleaning as a Way to Destress

What do you do when you feel out of control? I used to just blast music in my headphones until I could push the emotions down. For the sake of my poor eardrums, I’ve been trying something new.

I am a Tornado

If you knew me in real life, you would know that I am not a great housekeeper. I am more of a tornado of creative chaos, whether it be in the kitchen or in my workspace, there will be messes and clutter. As a creative person, sometimes I honestly don’t notice the chaos or clutter around me, I just see what I’m working on and if I have completed my project according to my vision.

It’s not a good way necessarily to go through life, but it is my authentic self. As a kid, this led to a lot of nagging me to pick up and friction with my mom and grandparents because I was not organized or faithful in straightening up my room. The same with vacuuming, dusting, or remembering to do the dishes before my mom got home from work. Now as an adult, it’s an internal battle I wage with myself between the chaos tornado and the desire to keep things tidy.

Over the years of working from home, I’ve learned that a chaotic space is not a productive space, as they said many times before, and yet I’m still a bit slow to do something about it. It wasn’t until watching Business Proposal that I began to connect the dots.

Kang Tae Mu

While watching Business Proposal earlier this year, a now beloved classic in my house, I related to a lot of the main characters. The one I did not expect to feel a kinship with was Kang Tae Mu. He is a young president of a company, he is rich, polished, and in control. The opposite of me. It wasn’t until the mask of perfection cracked and I saw the vulnerable moments of his character, the heartbreak and stress of his childhood, and his perfectionism as a coping tool that I realized we are not so different.

There is this moment, that truly endeared me to his character and opened my eyes to my own poor coping skills. Tae Mu and his friend Mr. Cha go to Mr. Cha’s apartment after work (Mr. Cha is his assistant) and Tae Mu cleans everything. Mr. Cha just steps back and out of his way, while Tae Mu works out all the emotions rattling around his mind in chaotic fractures by cleaning, and later cooking. His character decompresses by putting things back into order when he feels out of order and out of control. I never thought of cleaning that way before.

Gellers and Gilmores

I had seen it portrayed less healthily in the show Friends through Monica’s character. Monica’s character does this in a more unhinged and controlling way. But Tae Mu’s cleaning is so much more relatable. I mean it makes so much sense that tidying things can be a productive way to release the frantic energy of big emotions. In the show Gilmore Girls, emotional outbursts are normal. The characters rant, they yell, they express their emotions with big displays and that is usually how my feelings come out. In big messy paintbrush strokes over my relationships and my little house. I don’t like that anymore. I want to be kinder, gentler, a positive person to those around me.

I know I’ll still have those moments, but I’d like to minimize them and cope in better ways. Like not pushing the emotion into a box and tossing it to the back of my mind or feeling stressed and tense. So I’ve been trying to clean, when I really feel like I’m stuck.

Cleaning to the Beat of Wonderland & Item

I was feeling down in the dumps today, it was just an amalgam of bad communication with my husband, a cold, some other not feeling good things and discouragement. A lot of little things kept going wrong and my highly sensitive personality was feeling overstimulated. I was messing with my ability to focus on my current mitten project, my NaMo WriMo start, and planning blog posts.

I realized the only thing I could authentically change to set my day on a better path was to do some cleaning that had fallen by the wayside while I had been sick. With my earbuds in place and a playlist of Stray Kids’ 5-Star and Ateez hits I set to work on a kitchen deep clean. It is incredible how the first five songs of 5-Star changed my mood. The pacing of the music woke the dopamine centers of my brain back up and I was jamming through my stovetop scrubbing. By the time I switched to Ateez, I felt this weight lifted off. The stovetop was shining, the kitchen floor was lemony-fresh, the dishes were sorted into the drying rack, and the laundry was done with its spin cycle.

My environment was different even if my problems and little irritations from the day still existed, I was less stressed because I was able to do something to release my tension. Something active and productive. I felt like I was running my day, not my day running me over.

#37 – A Notched Lapel

Last night, I decided to be productive. I gathered my scissors and descended on my fabric stash. To the cuts of fabric, I’d left for the first hint of 30 degrees, to make a tweed coat and plaid trousers. Oh how excited I was to have a tweed fabric that was free from wool, and on clearance no less. What a thrill!

For months, I browsed Pinterest through the forest of street-style pins to the flowing river of coat inspiration. I studied the silhouette, the collar, and the button placement. Oh yes, I was going to do this right. I referenced pattern against pattern, for the right feel. The right lapel.

For moral support, I played a fellow chaos sewist in the background, Stephanie Canada, and laid my fabric on the floor. I determined my cut lines and set them to work, as Stephanie set to work on her #grimgrinninggarb I set my scissors to work carving out the back coat panel.

With a smile, I draped it against my frame to see that the arm holes were placed correctly. The opening for the neck, cut as a slim yoke, compared to the wandering necklines of my past attempts.

Next the sleeves were ready to take shape, a careful gusset planned for the armpit. “What mobility I will have,” I thought, “sweaters, hoodies, flannels – none will be too bulky for this!”

But then the summit appeared in the distance. The jacket front and collar! It was time for the big hurrah, the moment I studied and planned for. I smoothed the yardage to the floor with care to ensure the edges were plumb. With a careful swoop, the arm holes were placed. I steadied myself for the neck opening and lapel.

I stood, I pondered, I cut. A neckline sloping down, reaching outward towards the heart. A lapel. Large enough to fold over and sit regal down the coat. With satisfaction brimming, I carried on to the collar. Easy peasy right? After such a feat! I referenced my pattern one more time and cut it. I placed. I saw what I have wanted to see for years now. A coat with collar, notch, and lapel to follow.

Alright! This is going to work. This is my dream coat. A piece of outerwear ready for Friday Night Dinner. It was sharp. It was, just one. But two? Where’s the second piece?

With horror, I realized my mistake. I laid the second piece to see that I once again forgot to mirror the pattern. It was perfectly cut, backward. The lovely lapel was inside out. I had two lefts and no right.

And I had no more yardage left, on a clearance find remnant. Game over.

No tweed coat. No coat project at all. It was over. Fin.

Sewing humbles me every time. I know one of these days all my practice and failures are going to produce something made with care and wisdom. But dang, I feel so dumb!

If you are feeling discouraged today, remember, that we’re all in this together. 🫶 Hopefully we can all find a way to laugh through our mistakes and keep looking toward what the future holds. We got this! 😁

My You’ve Got Mail Moment

Do you remember that scene in You’ve Got Mail when Kathleen Kelly and Joe Fox are at that dinner party, and he is antagonizing her and all she can do is stare at him? Later on, she emails NY152, and Shopgirl reveals how frustrating it is that she happens to freeze when someone pushes her buttons, and instead of having anything in reply her mind goes blank. I was thinking about this scene over the weekend as I had not one but two encounters with rude behavior.

The first was on Saturday, in Joann Fabrics. As I browsed the clearance fabric in a narrow aisle cluttered by overhanging fabric bolts making even one person in the aisle feel cramped, a woman who was probably a Gen-X to my Millenial, pushed her cart down the aisle and proceeded like a flash flood to move forward. Not saying anything, she kept walking, and walking, until I felt her cart in my leg and then she started saying in a syrupy voice “So sorry, excuse me.” She continued to push until I realized, she wasn’t apologizing, I was going to be moving or getting run down by a cart. The idea of not physically moving me out of the way did not exist in her mind. At that moment, all I could think of was “Where am I supposed to go?” which was ignored and I skedaddled out the aisle and watched her not even look at the section I was in and carry on to the next aisle where she did the same thing. I was baffled. I thought the behavior was coming from a pushy desire to get the fabric I was looking through, and now I think she didn’t even noticed that it was there or that other people existed in the store.

Now reader, the reason I am sharing this is not to rant or put her down, but to discuss the frustration I have in my own mind that I freeze in these situations. My mind goes blank like Kathleen Kelly and I wish it didn’t not because I want to be a mouthpiece of malice towards people I find rude, but instead to have any way of voicing a change. To have the maturity and the wherewithal to speak in wisdom and inspire people like this to re-think their behavior so that instead of being the person everyone in the store was avoiding, this woman could be a person bringing warmth and good energy to the group. But I can’t think of a single thing in those moments. I can’t even stand my ground respectfully without getting scared. I wish I could be a better person.

Now the next day, stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic due to road work, the unthinkable happened. We were merged into the left lane due to the right lane closure for road work and a woman who was old enough to be my mom, screamed down the right lane refusing to merge until she ran out of pavement. That is when she began to throw her Audi SUV, not a cheap vehicle, into the two-foot gap between us and the next car. We had nowhere to go and she continued pushing. She stared us down and began telling us that she was getting in and that’s that. She came within inches of taking off the right front side of our car, and it was only prevented by the traffic in front moving forward at the exact time. I was verklempt and rising in anger at the wastefulness of her actions. I don’t know the financial situation she has, but paying off my car has never felt easy. Making the progress I have has felt like a miracle because I bought it used in 2021 and it was marked up due to the car shortage, but we needed a running car. I would never willingly use it as a battering ram because I have to be first in a merge lane, because it is worth too much to me to treat it like an expendable accessory. It gets me from point A to point B and I am grateful to have it. I would never want to take someone’s transportation away to get one spot ahead in a merge lane.

That situation was just a bad moment, that happens because people can be pretty crappy, but I’ve replayed the moment in my head and wished there was some way in those crazy highway moments to diffuse people. Make them see reason and remember that these big life-altering actions, don’t have to happen. You can back off and apologize and people will respect you for it. How can we inspire change on the road and inside the aisle of the store? I wish I knew.

#35 – Toxic Girl Conversations

I was struck by a moment recently where I felt transported back to middle school, watching Mean Girls. The plastics stand in front of a mirror and one by one they list something they hate about their body until they get to the new girl, Cady, who freezes. She quickly says she has really bad breath in the morning and the plastics, satisfied, move on to a new topic. I used to feel like that girl in the girl world because I honestly didn’t enjoy standing around finding flaws in myself as a form of bonding.

I’d rather talk about something more fruitful, lighthearted, or productive than pick at myself and others’ flaws. However I have noticed throughout the years that some girl friendship dynamics get pulled into a negative space, and sometimes they simply move into the negative neighborhood permanently.

It’s awkward because how do you communicate that you love your friend but the friendship environment they create can be downright toxic?

How do you steer the conversation back to something positive when that person just wants to complain and whine without starting a fight that puts the friend on the defense?

I’ve been pondering this because there are so many amazing things about this friend I wish she would focus on instead of what’s going wrong or what she is choosing not to make better in her life. We have a myriad of things we could be discussing because we are both wonder-filled by the world and its beauty, cultures, cuisine, music, etc. We could discuss books and the many writing projects we both want to accomplish. We could be planning a craft project we could coordinate for our next hang out, one of the many we send each other that one day we will try. Can that day be today?

It always starts like a pebble, one bad day in the recap of the week, and then it finds negative pebble friends. By the next conversation, the cup is overflowing and the light is being blocked from view by the stack of stones growing before me. I wish I could figure out how to capture that pebble, put it in my pocket, and skip it far away.

Instead, I find myself sifting through the back forty of my mind looking for a flaw to add to the pile of complaints my friend is listing off. I feel so fake and vapid manufacturing a problem in my head just to bond because not having a complaint would be a toxic girl conversation faux pax.

And wouldn’t you know my friend is stunning? She is photogenic, tall, and has the proportions to pull off every item of clothing I wish I could. Her heart is even more stunning than the outside. She is talented and accomplishing so much more in her professional life than I ever could. That’s why these toxic conversations drive me to the edge because she is amazing just the way she is.

#34 – Shaping Up

*Trigger Warning – weight, self-worth, ED, sizing* No worries if this one is not for you ❤


I wasn’t planning to write about this, mainly because I felt so ashamed a month ago when I visited my local outlets with an expectant heart to find the perfect baggy jeans to match my YesStyle inspiration photos, instead of finding what I wanted I got my butt handed to me by the un-standardization of standardized sizing and underwhelming offerings of American denim in 2023. Yeah, it was that kind of trip.

Rude Awakening

So I knew I would not find exactly what I was looking for because I was inspired by the offerings of Korean brands YesStyle and Acubi Club, and American fashion is different. I also knew that the reflection in the mirror would not look like what the photos looked like because I’m Irish-German-Canadian and not Korean, I am built differently. That was fine. I’m also not the same size as most K-pop idols because I’m not in my late teens-early twenties, plus the addition of age, stress, and developing intolerance to milk and casein protein, my body put on some weight. I’m not happy about it but I’m working on it so that I can lose the weight and keep it off.

With all that in mind, I forgot that there has been a shift in the desired body type since the last time I bought jeans. Slim-thick and curvy hips are out, heroin chic is in. Yikes. I say yikes because the last time this body type was during the y2k era and 2000s, but at least we had stretchy hip hugger jeans. Some of these jeans I tried on that were for Fall 2023 had the 1990s baggy shape but with ridged denim and were cut exclusively for a straight up and down body shape. One of the stores I found the most disappointing was Aeropostale. Now I know this is skewed to junior’s sizing, but it had the most potential because of the aesthetic of the styles they advertized across their store. There is an Acubi and K-fashion vibe to it, including a variety of cargo pants, compared to American Eagle which was also at my outlet but had an entirely different aesthetic. But, Aeropostale was frustrating for one reason alone – inconsistent sizing.

As I combed through the denim offerings, looking for the biggest size to have the most oversized look I could, I overheard a group of high schoolers who had just tried on jeans and were worriedly sifting through the pants for a bigger size. Two to three sizes bigger as the very slim teenagers worried nothing was going to fit them. I should have heeded this warning, but instead I loaded my arm with options and headed to the dressing room, much like Mort as he scampers, unaware up the beach as the shark tried to bite him.

It did not go well. One pair I got somewhat on my body but it was nowhere near close to zippering. The other ones simply would not go over my thighs, the so-called baggy jeans feeling a lot more like a recycled mom jeans pattern from 2019 instead of the baggy skater jeans of the late 1990s and early 2000s. (Trust me, I remember wearing both and the mom jeans were heckin’ uncomfortable.)

Confidence in Tatters

I kept calm and carried on to Wrangler which was a mistake because the women’s jeans were fitted, hourglass-shaped, and no longer stretchy. Can someone explain how curve-hugging jeans are supposed to do that when they are rigid denim? Anyways. The men’s jeans fit fine, but not what I was looking for. With the wind out of my sails, Kyle suggested Old Navy. At this point, I was afraid of jeans and women’s sizing. As I walked through Old Navy I grabbed sizes bigger than I ever tried before, grasping at straws in hopes that something would work. Ironically last season’s jeans gave me what I was looking for. I found success in the clearance section and purchased my Acubi-style jeans for $10. It was a screamin’ deal. It also was an ego gut punch as I bought jeans three sizes up from where I thought I would be. I selected two pairs and they are each a different size yet they fit me the same. Please, make it make sense!

Although I was happy to have found a style dupe, I felt this sense of dread about the other pants in my wardrobe. Was it the clothing or had my body changed again? Were my handcrafted, self-drafted, un-sized clothing pieces wrecking my ability to feel comfortable in standardized sizing? It left me in a terrible headspace where I pinballed between unworthiness and an unhinged desire to punish my body with intense workouts and restrictive diets. All over vanity. I don’t like how easily I put my worth in my outward appearance. This trivial experience weighed on my mind and affected my August.

I no longer wanted to catalog styling my handmade pieces. I felt like hiding from the blog as my inner monologue was pretty nasty towards myself, I didn’t feel comfortable in my own skin. I just wanted to hide until I could force my body into the current shape of the moment. I felt old and fat. I’m neither of those things, but the inner critic consumed me.

The Plan

For the next week, I pushed myself to dial back my bad habits, portion down my plate, and cut back on sweets. I took it a little too far and had to let myself have a cookie because I realized I was spiraling to a really unhealthy place where I believed I needed to earn my food (90s American diet culture, anyone?)

One positive that came from this diet push was to break free from the fear of tracking my calories burned and distance on the exercise bike, instead of it being restrictive I found it motivating. I even reached a pace of 3 min/mile. It was so exciting! The experience showed me that I needed to make simple swaps because my cardio was good and the muscles underneath some of my chubby bits were getting strong, I just needed to tone and get leaner.

Now of course, just as we make progress in life, discouragement rears its ugly head. I cut my leg on the bike so I had to pause riding for a week, which of course broke the habit I built. I began lifting the set of weights we had for exercise instead and hit myself on the shoulder. I got an angry ingrown toenail making my planks painful and a stomach bug to boot. All in the span of 10 days, life is good. But in the meantime I started doing wall sits every day and planks most days. I can do a wall sit for 1 minute to 1 minute and 30 seconds. My plank time has also increased from 30 seconds to a minute. My posture is improving, my mind is growing stronger, and I am seeing results in my arms, legs, and waistline. I don’t mind the portion control at all actually I’ve enjoyed getting healthier and eating more fruit like bananas with my oatmeal. Popcorn is my go-to evening snack and I let myself have a piece of dark chocolate or two in the afternoon slump.

I feel agency again in my own body. I’ve learned that the weight I put on is not out of my control, and I can change the shape of my body with discipline, not restriction and punishment. Exercising is more of a mental thing than a physical task, and when I am struggling to stay motivated to push myself I remind myself that I can do anything for 30 seconds. I’m going to apply that mindset to life when it gets scary.

Daniel 3

That’s right – I finished my read of Isaiah! I’m so pumped to be done because that was not light reading. But I’m excited to be in a new book of the Bible after 66 chapters of history and prophecy. It’s like finishing a Dostoyevsky novel and picking up a Jane Austen, the Austen looks like a breeze after 800 pages. Anyways, I prayed about where I should go next and I felt led to read the book of Daniel.

This book is pretty well known in pop culture, I’m sure if you haven’t read the Bible you are aware of the story of Daniel and the lions’ den. One of my favorite Bible stories comes from this book, from chapter three, the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. For a little context, this story takes place in Babylon while the Kingdom of Judah is in captivity in the Babylonian Empire. They were conquered and taken from their home to serve a foreign oppressor, the people of Judah were not in a place of power and so to encounter such boldness in the hearts of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in such an uncomfortable situation is astonishing to me. I want to be more like them, and if I’m being honest, I hope I never have to experience the persecution they go through in this story because it is downright terrifying. Let’s jump in!

King Nebuchadnezzar made an image of gold, whose height was sixty cubits and its breadth six cubits. He set it up on the plain of Dura, in the province of Babylon. Then King Nebuchadnezzar sent to gather the satraps, the prefects, and the governors, the counselors, the treasurers, the justices, the magistrates, and all the officials of the provinces to come to the dedication of the image that King Nebuchadnezzar had set up.  Then the satraps, the prefects, and the governors, the counselors, the treasurers, the justices, the magistrates, and all the officials of the provinces gathered for the dedication of the image that King Nebuchadnezzar had set up. And they stood before the image that Nebuchadnezzar had set up. And the herald proclaimed aloud, “You are commanded, O peoples, nations, and languages,  that when you hear the sound of the horn, pipe, lyre, trigon, harp, bagpipe, and every kind of music, you are to fall down and worship the golden image that King Nebuchadnezzar has set up.  And whoever does not fall down and worship shall immediately be cast into a burning fiery furnace.” Therefore, as soon as all the peoples heard the sound of the horn, pipe, lyre, trigon, harp, bagpipe, and every kind of music, all the peoples, nations, and languages fell down and worshiped the golden image that King Nebuchadnezzar had set up.
Therefore at that time certain Chaldeans came forward and maliciously accused the Jews. They declared to King Nebuchadnezzar, “O king, live forever!  You, O king, have made a decree, that every man who hears the sound of the horn, pipe, lyre, trigon, harp, bagpipe, and every kind of music, shall fall down and worship the golden image.  And whoever does not fall down and worship shall be cast into a burning fiery furnace.  There are certain Jews whom you have appointed over the affairs of the province of Babylon: Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. These men, O king, pay no attention to you; they do not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up.”
 Then Nebuchadnezzar in furious rage commanded that Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego be brought. So they brought these men before the king. Nebuchadnezzar answered and said to them, “Is it true, O Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, that you do not serve my gods or worship the golden image that I have set up?  Now if you are ready when you hear the sound of the horn, pipe, lyre, trigon, harp, bagpipe, and every kind of music, to fall down and worship the image that I have made, well and good. But if you do not worship, you shall immediately be cast into a burning fiery furnace. And who is the god who will deliver you out of my hands?”
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego answered and said to the king, “O Nebuchadnezzar, we have no need to answer you in this matter.  If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up.”
Then Nebuchadnezzar was filled with fury, and the expression of his face was changed against Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. He ordered the furnace heated seven times more than it was usually heated.  And he ordered some of the mighty men of his army to bind Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, and to cast them into the burning fiery furnace.  Then these men were bound in their cloaks, their tunics,their hats, and their other garments, and they were thrown into the burning fiery furnace.  Because the king’s order was urgent and the furnace overheated, the flame of the fire killed those men who took up Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.  And these three men, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, fell bound into the burning fiery furnace.
Then King Nebuchadnezzar was astonished and rose up in haste. He declared to his counselors, “Did we not cast three men bound into the fire?” They answered and said to the king, “True, O king.”  He answered and said, “But I see four men unbound, walking in the midst of the fire, and they are not hurt; and the appearance of the fourth is like a son of the gods.”
Then Nebuchadnezzar came near to the door of the burning fiery furnace; he declared, “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, servants of the Most High God, come out, and come here!” Then Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego came out from the fire.  And the satraps, the prefects, the governors, and the king’s counselors gathered together and saw that the fire had not had any power over the bodies of those men. The hair of their heads was not singed, their cloaks were not harmed, and no smell of fire had come upon them.  Nebuchadnezzar answered and said, “Blessed be the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who has sent his angel and delivered his servants, who trusted in him, and set aside the king’s command, and yielded up their bodies rather than serve and worship any god except their own God. Therefore I make a decree: Any people, nation, or language that speaks anything against the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego shall be torn limb from limb, and their houses laid in ruins, for there is no other god who is able to rescue in this way.”  Then the king promoted Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the province of Babylon.

Daniel 3

The part of the story that stuck out to me in my reading this morning was Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego’s response to the incredible peer pressure and martial law to comply by force with the decree to bow and worship. At first, it seems like they make a snap decision to not comply, yet as the text says they were brought to this statue, they actually had time to prepare for this moment, which is evident in how they respond. Being taught this story as a child I thought these guys were like superheroes, with incredible strength to stand up to this egotistical king. Still, actually, as an adult with more maturity and wisdom, I see it as the preparation that made them strong. It was not by their own might, but God’s power and provision leading them. They were submitting their ways to God’s law and His plan.

In the previous chapter, God creates the opportunity that leads to their promotion to this position where they would be invited to such an event, this was part of His plan. Now if Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego had reacted out of emotion they would not be prepared for the task before them. If they had spent their time leading up to the statue’s dedication worrying, complaining, or simply ignoring it they would not have been indwelled with the Spirit who helped them through this unimaginable trial. But it is obvious that they put on the armor of God before this moment, they went to God for His help and wisdom so that they would know what to say and how to respond.

Their response is too bold to have come from their human wisdom, because who as a mortal being would challenge such a king as Nebuchadnezzar who literally wants to throw people who disagree with him into a fire? We would call him a despot or heinous dictator now who is violating human rights, not a king. Imagine what it must have been like standing up to someone like that. Could you do it on your power? Would your voice be strong? Would you push his buttons like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego’s reply did?

Now with our modern understanding of how hot this fire must have been, hot enough that the servants who put the three into the fire died, it is mind-bogglingly fascinating what happens! Like even with the faith of knowing that the God who created fire has the knowledge of how to protect Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, it is still wild how they survive without any damage. I think that is another reason why this story is such a favorite of mine because it is such a bold display of God’s power. As I go through my day and the distractions of modern life cloud my mind, I never forget that God is powerful but it isn’t in the forefront of my mind. This story pulls me out of the noise and brings me back to what is important, God being on your side is all that matters. That’s the difference maker.

Finally, the part of the story that fills me with hope and comfort is when Nebuchadnezzar realizes there are four men in the fire, and they are unbound, alive, and honestly thriving. Why? Because Jesus came. He was standing next to them in the fire. He protected them, freed them, and nothing can separate them from Him who rescues us.

It’s pretty awesome. So when life gets out of hand, I need to remember this. Thank you reader for letting me share my favorite story with you.

Insomnia

Have you ever experienced one of those nights when no matter what you do you can’t drift off into the delightful slumber of a good night’s sleep?

I’ll go through bouts of bad sleep in the summer when the humidity sets in and the night is just a bit too stuffy. Those first weeks of summer when the warmth comes to rest overnight, and the fan radiating air from the window can’t seem to beat back the soupy air. Recently though, it was a bigger boss battle. The wandering of my mind to landscapes of worry.

Night Awakens My Creativity

I’ve always been a night owl. In the past, if I’ve been in the middle of a project at a job or heavy weighted exam in school it hovers in my mind when I am trying to sleep. It’s like I can’t allow myself to stop, rest, and recharge. I want to keep going. Keep creating until it’s perfectly done.

Sometimes my best ideas for garment construction or writing a scene in a fiction story come in those wee hours, trying to drift my mind off to sleep. And I’m not abnormal, this is pretty common, even glamorized as the artist’s life.

I don’t love the timing of these creative streaks, but I have over time learned the discipline of telling myself, that’s enough – it’s time to turn my mind off. That’s what it feels like, turning my mind off, like flipping an invisible switch to motivate my inner creative machine to close shop for the night.

But worry. Worrying, fear, anxiety, etc are the emotions I still have yet to best when they interrupt my sleep. With my mom having surgery this week, I’ve been best friends with insomnia. My mind has been restless, even combative towards peace and relaxation. I’ve been a tightened spring coil, resisting the welcoming aura of my bed in a false sense of control that if I worry about her surgery that I can somehow keep bad things from happening. Like I have any control over this thing!

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.

James 1:2-4 ESV

I remember in therapy for anxiety and panic attacks in college, the thing that was the most helpful but the most painful was my therapist telling me that I was not in control. Ouch. It made me feel so dumb and small, yet the conviction and freedom I felt were like a cool breeze on a hot sunny day. It’s the illusion of control that makes my mind tie up into knots. But the stark reminder, the tough love of being told, you can’t control these things that overwhelm you, well it takes the burden off of my shoulders.

His Way, Not Mine

I’ve been thinking about that a lot on these nights of tossing and turning in what-ifs.

These dominos of confusion that I mentioned in Spiraling in Silence are not there for naught. With the personal maturity and spiritual wisdom I have sought out in 2023, there has been a path of growth and progress. But with growing comes growing pains, and spiritual maturity comes testing. And although these back-to-back weeks have been annoying, they have been a reminder to keep growing.

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

Romans 8:28 ESV

With June marking the halfway point of the year, it can feel like a good place to stop, to rest. I mean, especially in the United States the beginning of June is the kickoff of vacation season. You’re supposed to “leave it all behind” and have some big, never-ending pool party/beach vacation/barbeque, that is at least what the commercials are selling. But with my faith, there is no vacation season, no coasting if I am seeking growth. Because God uses all things, the annoying bouts of insomnia or the big things – medical procedures that scare us – for good.

When we are worried or scared, because life is ripe with troubles ready to knock us down, it is encouraging to remember that these are opportunities to rely on God and all that He does for us. It is the time to rest in His plan and provision, for example, the provision to bring people into our lives at the exact moment we need them, that shower us with the love and support we crave when life makes us lonely.

Gratitude and Kit-Kats

One of the best ways I have found to get my head out of worry when I can’t sleep is to distract myself by counting my blessings. Even when life is going bad, I’m amazed at how many good things are going right in my life, that I simply forget about until I stop to think about it. Simply being alive, with a roof over my head and a meal to eat are huge things to not take for granted.

I have yet to beat the boss battle of my worry, and it still bests me most of the time, but I am learning how to change my perspective in those moments, and that sure feels like a step in the right direction. Getting rest and recharging in some way during those bouts of worry and lost sleep is more precious than I realize too. Everything seems 10x more complicated when you are fighting through insomnia

I caught myself last night being an absolute jerk, just because I was tired and cranky, and honestly scared to not be able to sleep again. But you know what helped pull me out – a piece of chocolate. That small little delight of chocolate, and watching something that made me laugh. It’s those little things which bring joy in the midst of meh, that remind me that I have so much to be grateful for and so much more purpose than wallowing in a bad mood of worry and bad sleep.

Thank you, dear reader, for spending time with me. I wish you restful, restorative sleep tonight. I sure hope I can do the same!

Spiraling in Silence

I like transparency and honesty, yet I have not been honest with myself this week. I have been a spiritual dark cloud with a disinterested heart towards reading my Bible and spending time each day with God. I have been running from Him, which has set me on a path of unrest and a posture that is lacking in self-care.

Neck Anxiety

Literally, my posture has been one of emotional unrest. My shoulders and neck are making me pay for it as I’ve let them get stuck in knots. Existing in the tension of my mind. The physical toll of anxious, spiraling thoughts is sometimes worse than the emotions. Because after it’s over, and my muscles relax I am left with the haunting sensation of sore, aching muscles that were unable to relax in the midst of my mind’s tumult.

This cloud of spiritual funk has left me in an anxious place worrying about things I’m not even sure I should be worrying about.

One man’s sermon should not be so destructive unless that is exactly what the enemy wants. I think I’ve been under attack for two weeks now, the anxiety I am holding in my neck certainly communicates a war in my mind.

Isn’t strange how we can be on top of the world one day and the next something knocks us down into despair. A melancholy that keeps us stagnant.

It reminds me of Elijah’s depression in 1 Kings 19.

Growth to Crisis

I’ve felt so on fire for God for months now. I’ve been stepping out in faith more, speaking out for the gospel, and ministering to my unbelieving friends with boldness. I have been tithing for the first time with consistency, and yet, even when we are doing all the right things tests come. Spiritual warfare comes. Confusion and chaos shake us like Elijah experienced after God defeated the prophets of Baal.

But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness and came and sat down under a broom tree. And he asked that he might die, saying, “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers.” And he lay down and slept under a broom tree. And behold, an angel touched him and said to him, “Arise and eat.” And he looked, and behold, there was at his head a cake baked on hot stones and a jar of water. And he ate and drank and lay down again. And the angel of the Lord came again a second time and touched him and said, “Arise and eat, for the journey is too great for you.” And he arose and ate and drank, and went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb, the mount of God.

1 Kings 19:4‭-‬8 ESV

I’ve felt the temptation to be stagnant, or worse to regress back to a place where I am seeking my own will instead of God’s will. I know deep down nothing good would come of that choice. No blessings, no peace, no fruit.

I’ve been silent. Not praying, or looking for any quiet moments with God. I have been shying away from my usual routine of listening to worship music throughout the week, refusing to be fed, like Elijah refused to eat or drink and wished to wither away.

Chaos & Confusion

Sometimes the church has some bad witnesses and presents parts of the Bible in ways that feel more like man’s way than God’s holy way. I’ve decided to abandon the sermon series I’ve been listening to and run from this convoluted presentation of what heaven will be like and the reward system that God has. It has done nothing but cause chaos in my heart, to make me fearful of God’s judgment instead of running to the Heavenly Father with open arms.

My husband has been very patient with me, listening to my worries and my questions. He has been defeating the lies the enemy is trying to trap me in about who God is. He has reminded me that even strong believers go through times of struggle, and these weird time times can produce growth.

It doesn’t mean I am a failure.

As I am writing this I see now that the biggest way this funk has impacted me is the sense of isolation and shame.

I have kept this anxiety from everyone, including my close friends. I have felt ashamed to admit I’m struggling and have put myself in a bubble. As the week progressed I became more and more stuck in my own head. Insomnia and bad dreams have taken residence in my head. I’ve felt run down and not like myself.

Unlikely Gift

I now wonder if the mysterious squirrel or bat that was in our chimney was literally a blessing because it drove me into the welcoming hugs of my friends’ next door. The evening of the mysterious noises should have been terrible, but instead, I think now about how loved I felt. I think God brings those opportunities about to show us how loved and cared for we are, even when we are going through Spiritual growing pains.

God provided for David when David was being chased and brought his complaints to God.

God fed Elijah and cared for him even though Elijah was wishing for death.

God is good. He is bigger than our problems. He can handle our darkness. He wants to be our source of strength and I lost sight of that. I’m thankful God never loses sight of what is important and never gives up.

If you are struggling dear reader, I hope this will encourage you to keep going. You’re not a failure if you are having a bad week or a bad month. Sometimes we go through waves of emotions that are difficult to process and we need to be patient with ourselves. You are not alone.

#29 – The Satisfaction of Mending and Alterations

I’ve found there is something serene about mending your own clothes. I find it almost a joy to launder the items and collect them in a pile for a day of slow, methodical stitches and problem solving. It makes the chaos of holes and rips into the calm of rejoined fabric and orderly hems. There is a satisfaction in fixing an item that was broken, making it as good as new. It reminds me that in life when the problems come, and there will be problems big and small, that it’s not over when trouble comes.

Like last night, when a scratching and rustling sound echoed from our chimney to the fireplace below. All I could picture was that scene in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation when the squirrel terrorizes the living room, scurrying from table to chair, knocking things over and crawling on Clark.

Of course this happened after dark, naturally as it does, when the stores are closed and the exterminator or animal control would be closed. In a frenzy we grabbed a sheet of plywood from the wood shop and covered the hearth opening. I called my neighbor, who has become like framily (friend-family) to me. They shared advice from their own experience with critters in their house, wrapped me in a hug and calmed me down with some good laughs. When I came back home, although the bat or squirrel or whatever it is, may still be on the other side that plywood I felt okay.

Having caring and friends who love and support you is the mending thread of our lives when things get weird.

Seams and a New Gadget

Today’s mending agenda consisted of re-attaching a missed seam on a pair of underwear I bought from a big brand, the pieces of fabric were connected across the seat seam with a serger aka overlocking machine and it either ripped the fabric which dislodged it from the seam or the pieces did not get sewn together in the first place. I have a love-hate relationship with the practice of serging ends and seams. I know it saves time and uses less fabric to finish seams but dang, they tend to unravel like nothing else. So, is it really better? I’m not sure. But that’s my opinion.

I’m doing a repair on a tank that I made from a burnt orange knit fabric. I made an unwise decision to take it in at the armhole which made the fit around the bust odd. It’s pulling and the stitches are placing too much stress on the knit fabric, which I saw the aftermath of while unpicking the stitches that made the armhole smaller. There were some big rips! Now the underside of each armhole looks like it was chewed up. Which to honest made me feel a bit stressed out because I enjoy wearing this piece and I don’t have any more fabric to patch the whole with. Thankfully my new gadget made this process of closing each rip easier – the palm thimble!

As I mentioned before in #21 – Sewing When I Lost the Love For It I have developed tendinitis in the knuckle of my middle finger of my sewing hand. This is what drove me to stop hand sewing in general and get used to using my Heavy Duty Singer machine. But alas, there are still times when you need to sew by hand like when inserting a zipper, mending rips and holes in fabric, and button and buttonhole insertion. I ran into this problem whilst completing this vest for my father-in-law. Just a few hours of hand sewing these buttons and button holes, awaken my injury and my knuckle was not happy. It’s made hand sewing a bit tense for me because what if it keeps getting worse? I love doing this, I don’t want to stop making things or knitting.

But, I was browsing my Instagram feed a few days later and behold a creator I follow named Geri In Stitches was sporting an intriguing accessory – the Sashiko thimble by which she pushed the needles through the fabric with her palm instead of putting stress on her finger. I used mine today for mending and it was a completely difference experience! My finger is not in pain, the knuckle is not inflamed or swollen. It worked! I’m over the moon excited about it.

Taking in Garments

Along with mending today, I also took in three pairs of shorts that were just draped to the point of looking silly. It’s an interesting feeling when I have to take items in because there is that feeling of, dang, now I have to fix something that wasn’t even broken just for the right fit. And there is also a feeling of accomplishment because I have been getting healthier.

I’m tackling my inflammation from food allergy and stress, toning up through interval training sessions, and making healthier choices that is helping me slim down a bit. I went through a decade of gaining weight and not understanding why I couldn’t lose it. It was frustrating and discouraging to feel so out of control. If only I had the wisdom to see how much the mind and the body are connected. The food allergy was giving my body anxiety and inflammation, making it difficult to maintain let alone get in better shape. Mind was so foggy from the stress and emotions of that time period that I didn’t want to take care of myself because I thought – what is the point?

When I have the opportunity to do these alterations, it’s this little moment of progress without having to weigh myself on a scale which is my ultimate trigger into a unhealthy spiral, but also to feel this moment of this will be an easy sewing project today. The item is already completed, and well loved. It’s relaxing compared to garment construction when I can still screw things up.

Later on today, I have another round of alterations, replacing a waistband tie on a pair of shorts and adjusting the fit on another pair of shorts. And then it will be time to put my thimble away and leave process for the next time. But with each wear I will remember the time and love put into these clothes to keep them in good order. A well loved closet.

Do you mend your own clothes? Have you ever taken a garment to be altered or do you just make it work? Before learning to sew, I would just accept my fate if items broke or stopped fitting. It’s a freeing feeling to not be stuck in letting the clothes decide for you. I’d recommend giving it a try or finding someone who can help you with their own sewing skills. It truly makes a difference.

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑