More lessons in patience

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The Warm Hearted quilt neatly folded and resting on the back of the couch.
 

I so badly want to sew on the Warm Hearted Quilt this evening, but my forearm still has an Aquaphor-covered wound and I don't want to slap a band-aid on it because band-aids of all varieties (plastic or fabric) give me a rash. I did receive good news today that the spot biopsied was benign, which is GREAT! I juxtapose that with a dear friend's youngest son, who is in his forties and suffering from lung cancer. Enduring toxic chemotherapy in the hopes he'll survive long enough so his youngest child, three years old, will remember him. Sigh.

We can't plan life other than daft outlines for what we'd love to occur. A week ago, when I had the biopsy, I stitched hearts like all the other days I'd been stitching hearts; I had a piece of gauze taped over the wound and no Aquaphor in sight. Since then, I've done very little sewing on that quilt. This afternoon I managed some Peace Round the World stitching, though I wore a band-aid. I guess it was okay for earlier today, but I don't want to do it twice in one day. Patience, I hear Future Me whisper. Patience.

The teal squares I attached earlier today to this Peace Round the World English paper pieced quilt.

I want a little comfort sewing, trying to block out 1) the awful heartache my friend is suffering/the debilitating cancer treatments her son is enduring and 2) the probable loss of that man and that while his eldest child most likely will recall him, the youngest won't. Then there is 3) the gut-wrenching difficulty of my friend having to bury one of her children. Parents never should have to face that reality. But again, we can't plan life other than daft outlines for what we'd love to occur.

I'm grateful for my faith in Christ at times like these, yet that faith only serves to assuage my heart. My friend doesn't believe in God, and I don't proffer pithy phrases, though she does appreciate my prayers. And I'm thankful she appreciates them. But still, I can't do more than pray; I'm not a doctor, I have no magic wand. I don't have skin cancer, yet tonight that feels like a minor victory. Devastating things happen to those we love, and we're helpless in a corporeal sense, though I also believe prayer is powerful, just that sometimes we don't see the effects immediately.

Anyway, that's what's up this last Wednesday of July in 2026. A benign biopsy result. Prayers for healing sent. Patience again studied. Another day passes with no hearts sewn. Yet mine feels in need of being stitched. I'll give this to God, leaving in better hands than mine the task of.... The task of moving this life along perhaps not as we wish, but as is best on a grander scale than I can imagine. Have a good night everyone.

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