Week 7: Textures

Have you ever stopped to think about the textures of your life?  I'm talking about the fabric that makes you, you.  The people, the moments, the places, the feelings, the scents and the memories?  In my opinion, all of these experiences are intertwined stitch by stitch until they create a photo or texture to be added to your life quilt.

If only I/we could see how all the experiences, smells, sights and sounds have been woven into the fibers of who we truly are.  In my mind's eye I see a quilt of life with countless threads of different lengths and colors.  They represent the people, places and things who have impacted our life.  Those who have been with you always are woven into each piece with an ongoing thread made from gold.  People who've touched your life and played less significant roles might be represented by strands of light yellow.  Threads of red might reveal those you've loved while threads of purple or blue could reveal loved ones you've lost.  I imagine white threads to represent our childhood innocence and moments of selflessness.  Black threads might show a strong foundation or belief your life was built upon such as your religion.  Other colors may be shorter or less easily understood but their importance is just as significant.  These strands might've been created through our senses like the familiar scent of home, the taste of grandma's cookies or the sounds of your loved one's voices, laughter or sorrows.  Every strand regardless of color or meaning would have varying lengths depending on when they were introduced or came to an end.

Pictures we've stored in the corners of our minds would be included and woven together with all the threads mentioned above.  Pictures I have of shared moments with my parents.  The day they brought my little brother home.  Moving away from my grandparents and our entire family.  Making and saying good-bye to special friends in each of the towns we lived when I was a child and again as an adult.  Our first family dog, Dotty.  Moments I'm proud of and maybe even those I'm not so proud of but have taught me valuable lessons.  My faith and trust in God which have carried me through both the good and bad.  My first crush.  My first kiss.  My first love.  My first heartbreak.  Graduating from high school and then college.  I definitely couldn't leave off the day Bird danced into my life or the day we said, "I do."  We've created so many new textures and fabrics since that day alone.  We've been blessed to share adventures stretching from where we met in Missouri to Wyoming to Europe and back.  We've shared a few losses but we've shared plenty moments of joy.  Like the day we met our girls and we became a family.  Each experience we endure creates another layer or texture added to that moment in time.  Some textures may occur over and over because they are lessons or difficulties we did not master the first time or aren't ready to face for fear of a pain or sorrow relived.

It's sad, our lives are so busy we hardly have time to smell a flower or show a kindness to a stranger anymore.  Imagine if we made a conscious effort to slow down and savor each moment, experience or texture.  That act alone might bring blessings and textures to our lives and those around us we never imagined possible.  Each and every second our senses inundate our minds with pictures and textures we choose to use or discard depending on how we discern its importance and value.

Yesterday, I sat with my parents and Little Bird poolside soaking up the sun's glorious warmth.  A dove cooed happily from the trees above while Little Bird dipped her toes and fingers into the pool's freezing water.  She shivered and squealed with excitement and anticipation for summer.  Next, she put her water cooled hands on my legs which sent goosebumps up to my knees.  A few minutes later, Little Bird shared an orange with my parents and with each slice she slurped it's undeniable juicy sweetness.  I wondered how many of those momentary experiences would be woven into the textures of her life quilt.  Will the fact that we were all present and engaged in interacting with her add a texture of love and sense of peace during times when life is not so easy?

Over the last few days, I've been looking at life around me in a whole new way.  How will the memories and textures we encounter today impact us in the days and years to come?  I think about the refugees fleeing their homeland and everything they know.  They don't know if they will return.  Some of them don't know if they'll see their loved ones again.  What horrors must they have endured?  I can't imagine putting my children in a boat without climbing in it myself.  It's unfathomable to me this is the choice so many are making.  How can this option seem safer than staying together?  I am not judging.  My heart cries out to them.  I observe our nation's leaders bashing one another to try and make themselves look better than the man or woman next to him at the podium. How did tearing someone else down become a way to gain respect and votes from another?  I see so many negative images on the television it frightens me.  How do they effect us and our children?  What kind of threads and textures are we creating with these visuals?  Even more important, what threads are we creating in our own homes?  Are they soft and loving textures or are they painful scratchy textures which create long lasting hurts and discomfort?  In the days to come, I plan to be more intentional about what I'm weaving into the lives of those around me.  I want to ensure the strands and fibers we create are strong and full of depth and character.  In addition, I want them to create textures in our lives that bring comfort, warmth and feelings of eternal love, hope and happiness to endure the inevitable times of struggle.  Let's face it, none of us get through life without some sort of struggle. In those moments, I think we all want a comfortable texture like someone's arms or a soft, soothing blanket to wrap ourselves in to make us believe it's all going to be okay.