:. stop crowding Jesus .:

The woman awoke with the same sense of despair she'd known for the past dozen years. She could hardly find the strength to drag herself out of bed every morning. Her medical condition had only grown worse with the passage of time, in spite of seeing every specialist she could find. She'd spent every last penny on doctor after doctor, trying all the latest advances in medicine as well as every quack cure, only to be told, "There's nothing I can do for you."

After twelve years of suffering, she was out of money, and out of hope.

On this morning, she managed to get up and get dressed; the pantry was bare and she had no choice but to go to the market. Oh, how she dreaded being out in crowds! Her malady wasn't usually obvious to outsiders, but there had been those embarrassing times when the blood had gushed out, staining her clothes for all to see. It was painful; it was humiliating.

The market was busier than usual that day; something or someone was drawing a massive crowd at the end of the street. Curious, the woman carefully made her way to the edge of the crowd. She inched her way in until she could see what was causing all the commotion.

Standing in the middle was Jesus.

The woman had heard about him. Some said he was the One Who Was to Come, the Messiah. Others said he was Beelzebub himself. She'd heard stories of how he had healed with a word or a simple touch. One story going around was that this Jesus had actually brought a dead man back to life.

Whatever the truth was about him, here he was now, right in front of her. If she wanted to, she could reach out and touch him, he was that close.

Reach out and touch him . . .
If the stories were true . . . if he is the Messiah, the Son of God . . .
If he really could heal with just a touch . . .

There was certainty in her movement as she reached for him. She somehow knew that all she needed was a single touch to his cloak and her suffering would be over.

Her finger lightly brushed the back of his garment. She was instantly aware of healing surging through her ravaged body; she knew that at last she had been freed from her affliction. She felt like her old self, the one she'd long forgotten.

Jesus stopped short, looked around the crowd and asked, "Who touched me?" His followers thought he was joking. "Everyone is crowding in on you, and you ask who touched you? Seriously?"
But Jesus continued to search the crowd until his eyes met those of the woman. Trembling, she fell at his feet and admitted that it was she. With tenderness in his voice, Jesus said to her, "Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering." *

It is possible to stand right next to Jesus, but never touch Him in faith. It is possible to crowd around the Savior, but never be freed from our sin. It is possible to follow Him, but never allow Him to change us.
Don't make the same mistake the crowd made. Go ahead and touch Him . . . really touch Him in faith. You'll be amazed at the results.

*the original story can be found in Mark 5

:. boho hobos .:

After spending the last several years learning how to make V.E.R.Y. structured bags, I suddenly find myself wanting to do some very unstructured sewing. The result: sort of 'bohemian meets urban meets shabby'.

(You think it doesn't KILL me to leave all those threads hanging?!?!??)

Available now at Tandem Brick Gallery.

:. under the knife and dreaming .:

Lazy days are fabulous. Lazy eyes, not so much.

Thanks to my Graves Disease, I've been having a spot of trouble with my eyes for awhile now. [Yes, that's why I've been wearing the attractive prism on my attractive glasses; really attractive look, I know.]

If anyone reading this happens to be the praying type [and how on EARTH could anyone get along without??!??], then I would appreciate your prayers. On Monday I will be having my eyeballs cut into in order to (hopefully) be rid of this doubledouble visionvision thing once and for all. (See what I did there?)

I've been assured it's not a big deal (yeah, right.)

I've been assured the surgeon is pretty good at this (hope so. When he asked at my pre-op appointment if I had any questions, that's what I asked him, "So, are you good at this?" I was serious; he just chuckled.)

He might MIGHT leave some sutures hanging out of my eyes for a few hours so he can do some 'fine-tuning' later in the day.

Did you hear me?!? I said he might MIGHT leave some sutures hanging out of my eyes for a few hours so he can do some 'fine-tuning' later in the day.

What the WHAT?!?!??!?!?

Let's just hope the good doctor doesn't have a fight with his wife that morning. Or that he doesn't down a triple espresso right before he walks into the OR. Let's hope.

I've only had surgery one other time in my life . . . . eons ago I had my tonsils out. And my dear little sister said the other day she remembers me being really REALLY sick from the anesthetic. I don't remember that at all.

Great. Thanks, Mary.

Like I said, if you're the praying type, then I'd be grateful if you'd offer one (or two) up for me.

:. mission accomplished .:

Sometimes I get an idea in my head and I can't let go of it; I just know I have to act. We have this old chair that I've been holding onto for Chris and Kate; it's headed for their basement family room. Out of the blue I decided I should reupholster it for them. Here's the deal: NEVER in my life have I reupholstered ANYTHING. But I look at all things crafty and think, "How hard could it be?!". After reading a couple of blogs on 'how to reupholster a wingback chair', I decided to go for it. [I honestly think if there was an online tutorial for brain surgery I'd probably attempt it.] So here's the lovely chair before (keep in mind my tastes have changed in the last 15 years!): Structurally quite sound, just tired, worn (and somewhat hideous!) fabric. So, off with the old!!

There's no turning back at this point. (And I found the anatomy of a chair quite interesting.) I also realized that sailors aside, reupholsterers probably cuss more than any other profession. [We are talking at least 15 MILLION staples that need to be removed!!] But after just a few days of work, and with the help of an air compressor and pneumatic staple gun, voila! A chair that Kate now says is going to go in their living room!!

Oh, yeah. The fabric I used? My new favorite: drop cloths from Sherwin Williams.

Fabulous for the french shabby look!

As I said, VOILA!