We love to be cozy. If we are on the couch, there is always a blanket over us. One of our go to's is a quilt that my great grandmother made. Different bits and pieces of different fabrics from who knows what. Maybe worn out clothes or extra fabric left over from making a dress. Simple pattern. A mix of colors that don't really match but go beautifully together. Bits and pieces of life strung together that make something extraordinarily beautiful.  

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Where I live the winter is daaaaaaaark and days are shoooooooort and cold. Whew. It wears on you. It gives you time, lots of time -  inside. Under quilts and blankets. So a few winters ago, I decided that I wanted to try my hand at quilting. I have dreams of grandchildren or hey, maybe even greats, cuddled under a quilt of mine. I have dreams of them knowing of my prayers and love for them even after I'm gone. Feeler much? Yes mam. But there I sat, feeling those very things from my great grandmother, that I don't even have many memories of. 

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I was the kid that sat at my Nannie's feet with her scrap pile or old quilt blocks making Barbie something beautiful, I'm sure. But it was at her feet, while she made dresses for all of us granddaughters and our dolls  (7 of us), that I learned to piece quilt blocks together by hand. Some of my very favorite memories. Tucked under her huge cutting table, hearing the whir of her machine and the klink of her scissors. Every stitch perfect. Every dress fit perfectly. I felt so special. And so loved. 

So, I'm not an exact seamstress like she is, ha! She would probably roll her eyes. I'm more of a tutorial girl, than a strict pattern kind of girl. But I've given it a try, and I'm learning and it's become something I love. Mainly quilt tops, one try at hand quilting.

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I cut each piece. I sew them together and I imagine and pray for whoever will stay warm under it. And I don't feel alone, as I think about who has done this before me. Who loved me before they even knew me. Who, I believe, prayed big things. 

So during these past winters, when the sun has set so early, I've retreated into my little cave. And with each stitch, a little part of me is put back together. One night after bedtime, a certain little boy, who loves to visit me after bedtime, appeared around the corner and gasped, "Mommy! Don't take it all apart!" And in the same breath "ooooooh! But you're not. You're putting it all together."  Yes, little buddy. I am. More than you know. 

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As I'm piecing these little pieces of fabric together, I can't help but think about how God has, and is, taking all the little pieces of my life and putting them together to make something beautiful.  

Find those things that put you back together. Steal away and do those. They are God's gift for you.  

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