My cousin, Ruthanne Jackson, wrote this years ago when her children were small. Since we share the same grandmother, I also had one of Grandma’s hand-made quilts. I have always enjoyed what Ruthanne wrote and wanted to share it with others (which I am doing with her permission). Now that I do some quilting myself, the comparisons are even more meaningful! For scriptures that go along with these thoughts, read Psalm 139:13-16, 2 Peter 1:3-8, and Ephesians 2:10 after you’ve read Ruthanne’s prayer.
THE QUILT MAKER
Father, I’ve been thinking about the quilt on Kara’s bed lately. As I make her bed each morning, I think of the time, effort, and love my grandma put into making that quilt for me. I really appreciate the applications I can see in my life from that quilt. When I was a little girl, I used to love going to Grandma’s when they were quilting. Such careful preparation that went into the finished product of one quilt—one quilt given out of love!
First, she had to get in her mind the pattern of the quilt. She had to plan colors, materials, thread. She had to imagine from a little scrap of material what it would look like as a whole picture.
God, you did that for me. You looked at me—this little scrap of material, full of flaws and inconsistencies, and with your loving and infinite eyes, You saw the whole pattern of my life. You planned the whole finished product.
Then, Grandma would begin cutting out the figures. The quilt she made me was blocks of little dresses. She would cut away the excess to make one block fit perfectly—yes, perfectly with the next. And then, Lord, she would begin the long and tedious job of sewing one block to another.
Father, you did that in my life. At a young age you begin cutting out the pattern of my life and in that cutting you had to cut away the excess—t he excess of pride, self, and an undisciplined life. You had to cut away those extra pieces so my life could be sewn together perfectly—yes, perfectly one block together with another; one season of my life together with another to get the finished product. Praise You, Lord! And yes, Lord, you sewed me together perfectly. And I know it was an act of love, but it was still tedious.
Then, Father, the last step was quilting. It made the piece of material unique and different. Each quilt was quilted in a different way.
Yes, Lord, that’s what you did after each piece of my life was sewn together. You put your mark upon me—You made me unique. None of us are like the other. We are distinct—set apart, yes, different!
And then, after the beautiful quilt was done, Grandma would present it to the person she chose with eyes of love, fully confident that the receiver would accept it with love, knowing it was a labor of unselfish love.
Well, Father, this quilt You have made of me out of a scrap of material I present to you in sweet, sweet surrender. Fully confident that You have sewn me together out of unconditional love to the ultimate glory and honor of You! Praise Your Name! With eyes full of love, I have surrendered this quilt to You, confident and secure that You accept it in love.
Thank You, my Quilt Maker.