Showing posts with label sewing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sewing. Show all posts

Sunday, 21 May 2017

What Really Matters

I made myself a new friend. Ah me, what a dream, I haven’t even met her! Let’s start again; I wish I could have her for a dear friend. Everyone applauds her for her sewing ability and no doubt, it was wonderful, but I don’t think that is the reason people cried when she died suddenly. Would you weep just because someone who made you a garment passed away? I think not. Would you if you were desperately poor, and it was the only decent thing you had to wear? I doubt it, after all, a brand new, possibly heavy, homespun garment would last quite a while, and even if it didn’t, that isn’t what you would remember her by.
               Really? So what was? Dorcas was one special woman. Her heart was overflowing with love. These were poverty-stricken widows and others to whom she ministered. Widows, get that? Wives’ and mothers whose husbands’, the father to their children, had died, possibly drowned at sea because Joppa was a seacoast town. They were heartbroken, lonesome and she cared.
Sure, they showed anyone interested the tangible evidence of how kind she was to them, but that wasn’t the most important part.
Here was someone that loved them, shared their suffering and when she died they couldn’t bear to let her go.
               I guess Peter couldn’t either, because when he was summoned from a nearby town, he dropped everything he was doing, and came.
               It was a tremendous miracle when Dorcas rose from the dead and many became Christians because of it, but let’s not remember her for doing acts of mercy, but for showing compassion.

               Hey, Dorcas, may I get to know you in Heaven and be your friend, there?

Friday, 13 February 2015

A Certain Sister Fell Among Thieves

Fern cradled the cordless phone under her chin while deftly forming cookies for the Annual Charity Auction.
"Hi, Ruth! So what are you doing today?"gossip cookies
"Oh, sewing. Sewing for my grandchildren. You know how it is with children. They grow so fast."
"They sure do. Say, did you hear what Susan has been up to the last while? "
"Uh huh!"
Fern didn't seem to hear her as she plunged on with her story.
"I can't believe she would 'fall in' with that sort of companions! And did you hear what she was doing just the other day?"
"Who were her companions?"
"Oh, you know. The unusual. Doubt, Unbelief, Luvof-deeworld. I don't know their real names.She really fell hard."
"Yeah, I wanted to go talk to her, but didn't know what to say."
"She should have known better. After all she came from a good family."
"Did you hear who did go and talk to her?"
"No, who?"
" You know, the one who started coming to church awhile back!"
"Oh, her! I haven't met her,yet! You'd think she would be ashamed to come around with her outlandish hair color and those awful tattoes!
I wish you wouldn't keep sewing while I am talking!"
"They say she has met the Lord." Ruth gazed longingly at the garment in her hands. Chatting with Fern always took soo much time.
"Really? Well, seeing is believing. I wish she would change her ways if she is going to persist in coming to church. Think of the influence she could be on the young!"
A faint dinging sound could be heard in the background.
"Oh, there goes my timer. I'm making my famous Orange Buttermilk Cookies for the sale. Iced and decorated, of course.I do hope we rake in lots of money towards building a new church in El Salvador. It's a good cause."
" Maybe I should donate these dresses I'm making. Breanna and Kayleen have plenty."
" Sure, that's a good idea. I hope that, uh, What's Her Name doesn't put strange ideas into Susan's head. The poor girl. I bet her mother must be so embarrassed to have Her hanging around."
Ruth was silent. She had heard that Susan, and her mother had been deeply touched by the compassionate, non-judgmental attitude Diedrie had shown.
"I wish I could be more understanding...." She said softly.
"Oh, you do fine. Look, you offered to give those dresses, after all that work and money you put into them! Well, I got to run along. Ta de da! Have a good day." Click!
Ruth sat there lost in thought. Why is it so much easier for some to show compassion than others?

Books by Marilyn Friesen are available