all for him

Sew It Seams by Stephanie was born out of an idea and a desire. It was intended as a way to help offset my car payment, but really for some extra dollars once in a while. This morning I realized it should be for another purpose......

My son, Drew, is going off to seminary in the fall, to be educated and trained as a priest of the Diocese of Harrisburg. Nothing about this next chapter of the story of him surprises me. Since the moment of his birth he has been teaching me about life, coping, love, faith, admiration - everything that is truly important. As a third child, he was trundled off in many directions, often exactly at nap time. He had no trouble adapting these constant changes to his routine, more than any of his brothers ever did. As a toddler, he would occupy himself playing with Lego's and building the most interesting sculptures that were as delicate and fragile as they were intricate. He was the only one who could move or handle them; at anyone else's touch they would crumble. In preschool he developed an amazing eye and ability for drawing and painting, taking classes and winning awards through all his school years. In high school, he made the very difficult decision to drop art as a class to make room for some other subjects, but never gave up his sketchbook or pencils, winning an award at the Classics Festival with a painting he did for Latin. He prays. I never prayed in high school. (I spent my time at mass looking for boys my age because there weren't many!) His sense of humor and quirky taste shines through all he does, including his discussions and questions about bible stories, homilies, Life Nights, Edge lessons. His strength of character has helped me through the past year as much as the support from my therapist, spiritual director, friends in the know. I'm proud to know him, and humbled beyond words that God entrusted him to me, of all people. He wanted to be a farmer growing up, and at the beginning of this discernment would occasionally talk about living on a farm with an art studio school and a chapel. My mother sent Drew a card recently reminding him of this dream, saying that he will now be a farmer helping to raise animals with much less fur. [she put it differently, but I'm working from memory, and emotion.]

Last week, when Drew got his letter of acceptance from St Charles, a friend asked if I would now begin hosting spaghetti dinners to help fund his education. That's the moment it all became more real. Child support for Drew ends next week when he graduates from high school. Since February when I filled out the paperwork to terminate it, I've wondered what I might do to make up that difference, especially when he goes off to Philadelphia. This morning as I weeded, I discovered I'd been praying without realizing it when it occurred to me that Sew It Seams is really for Drew.

So many people have encouraged this endeavor in small to big ways. Shawna agreed to work on my marketing and has taken beautiful pictures of the items, even coming up with the name of the page. Ed encouraged my creative side by consistently telling me I have talent, and that I should capitalize on it. Jonathan, Henry, and Ellie shared the page almost the moment it went live. Heather keeps visiting and liking items. Elise tells me I can do anything - and that she loves that if I don't know how, I'm still willing to give it a go. And I remember the times my Dad complimented things I'd made, and especially the time he saw a monogram - SDT - and said, "Who is that?" When I made a set of bags for Ellie's graduation, Drew and Henry were my sounding board, and the first to really encourage the idea that finally came to be: showing my stuff to strangers.

And then today's prayer. Everything that is sold through Sew It Seams will go to Drew. Everything that hits the PayPal account (stephsewstoo@gmail.com) will be used for his time at seminary, from extra daily expenses to his suit and tie, cassock, surplice, transportation and tolls. In addition to the items in the album and on the page, I can do custom work, although prices may vary a bit. All the current items were made from savaged, extra, or otherwise 'found' textiles. Everything is one of a kind. And I do other stuff, too, not just sewing. In short, I sew, paint, create, and want to do it all to help my son.

If you would rather make a tax-deductible donation to help the Diocese of Harrisburg defray the cost of supporting all clergy in the diocese, you can donate here. While this will not go to Drew exclusively, it will help him directly in conjunction with his classmates and others. Questions about priestly formation and other vocations can be directed to the Office of Vocations.

Please pass this on and forward. This is a huge leap of faith for me. [more on that in another post] I have never been one to ask for help, and neither is Drew. His willingness to give of himself to the world is again humbling me, impressing me, an example to me. And, yes, there will undoubtedly be some spaghetti dinners and other events in the coming years. Along with lots of requests for prayer!

fibers and focus

Today is a stitching day. I'll be spending it at my sewing machine and ironing board, focusing on straight and even lines of thread. This act of focus often allows me to let my mind wander, a form of hypnosis, I suppose. As I link the pieces of fabric together, I also begin to stitch together memories, questions, dreams. Today I have some special prayers to meditate on, and while I sew, I'll offer them up.

With my sewing project, I know the end result, my aim. I don't know entirely what I'm seeking as I pray. Sometimes that's why I sew or knit when I have questions or when I talk to God. It's like those helpful parenting articles I used to read (in my mother's magazines as a teenager myself, actually) that suggested talking to kids about "tough topics" while driving in the car. There is both a level of distraction in not having to be face-to-face, and a level of captivity in sitting in a moving vehicle. When I work a project while I pray, I'm a little trapped by the scope, a little distracted in my focus on something else.

That's not to say I don't pray face-to-face. Or that I don't ever focus exclusively on the One to whom I'm conversing. Just that today, with the needs I have - both in my heart and in Christmas preparation - I am grateful that the Lord and I can work side by side today. That I can have time with Him always. And that we both know that I will, at some point today (when my alarm goes off) I will simply sit at His feet.

Fannie Tang returns :)

"Stephanie, right?" As I walked in the door, for the second time, I was once again struck by the feeling of complete 'homeness' of the studio, and immediately felt warmly welcomed. "I'm Shani. I feel like I've met you before..." Indeed, as I mentioned, this was my second visit, but only my second--and the first had been in the late winter/early spring. It is now mid-August.

Through a mutual friend, I had heard about Shani and her studio, Flow Together Yoga Center, and the wonderful space it was to practice, learn and refine. Months later, Guy got me a Groupon for my birthday. I've only been the one time so far, but on that one visit, I so enjoyed myself; I pushed myself through the class, which was twice as long as my usual practice, with the gentle, yet sure guidance of Shani. During the class, she encouraged me to tent my hands on the floor, using my fingertips for balance and strength, rather than my flat palms. What a difference it has made! After the class, she told me my practice was beautiful, and I truly felt as though my body had returned to a placement it had been lacking--even though I had been practicing frequently.

Today I visited for a very different reason. Earlier in the week, Shani had posted on Flow Together's Facebook page a call to artists. The studio will be celebrating its one year anniversary, and they would like to add a 'heartmade' element to the retail space on consignment. On a whim, because making stuff is my therapy, I responded and asked if my eclectic selection would fit in with what she's looking for. I've sold my work in the past, with varying results and reactions, but have never found just the right fit. I take pride in my work, and do see it as art, although that statement has garnered some strange looks at times. It seems some see "art" and "craft" as dichotomous, and never the twain shall meet. So be it. I put my heart into what I make, sometimes using patterns, sometimes not, but the hardest part comes when I have thought about selling in the past.

Simply put, I get bored easily. I don't want to make 425 purses. But I do love to make them! Sometimes I like to knit, or make French message boards, or paint some wooden thing and transform it into a showpiece. My current impetus is to use up the scraps and freebies I have accumulated for the past 10-15 years. That's a lot of stuff. And I live in a house with Guy and our four boys. There are only so many things I can make! I love that I have the supplies on hand to have made birthday presents for two dear friends lately (and that I had the time that week!) because I know just how genuinely they appreciated what I could do just for them. Using my recycled and repurposed fabrics and notions may seem more challenging for strangers, but I have another way of thinking about it entirely. And Shani spoke it aloud today without even realizing it. Each person has something that will touch them. It may sound a little "out there," but if I really focus and breathe life into what I make, I will know. Anything that doesn't sell just hasn't found the right place, the right 'finder.'

That mutual friend has been interviewing for jobs, and is understandably frustrated. So many of her friends have commented on her status updates reminding her that the right position just hasn't come forth. She will land on her feet; she will find what seeks her. Her yoga practice will help, especially since she has the support of a remarkable instructor and friend like Shani. I'm looking forward to working with her, and to attending more classes at the studio: a home if ever I felt one. Namaste.