I just got home from Quilt Retreat. Four days away to reconnect with my cousins, my aunts, my sisters, my mom. It is like a long, deep breath for my spirit.
Quilt Retreat was in Utah this year so on Saturday night I got to drive up to Logan and see Caleb perform with the Cache Valley Symphony, pushing his bow as fast as it would go to keep up with those gorgeous Russian composers.
At dinner afterwards, he talked to me about his latest studies in relativity, how space and time change and bend relative to the person experiencing it.
When I am with these women that I grew up with, who have seen me then and know me now, I understand a little about what he is talking about. Time and space are bent around me and I can see it all at once:
Sitting together on Aunt Jane’s porch in summer dusk while the homemade ice cream churned noisily and the mosquitos nibbled our sweaty necks.
Running through the woods around the cabin and building club houses out of moss and logs and pine needles.
Acting out the Nativity with memorized parts (“I am the sheep with the curly horn”) and performing annual talent shows at the house on the hill and variety shows in Amy and Karen’s closet.
Going to music camps and ski trips and reunions in Yost.
Eating bread and milk and frozen fruit salad and dried apricots hot from the dryer.
Making bread and muffins and the A&A Newsletter and “Welcome Home” signs out of construction paper and glue.
Standing next to these women around quilt frames, and cleaning projects, and prayer circles, and wedding cakes, and caskets.
They have seen me grow up. They have seen me make a mess of things. They have seen me when I get it right. They have seen me angry and hurt and joyful. They have cried with me and rejoiced with me and laughed with me. They have seen me sick. They have given me relief.
For my whole life.
There is no time or space in my life that they are not a part of. When I see them, I see my whole life: who I was—who I am—who I will be. And they not only let me be it all, they love me for all of it. Which makes it easier to love myself.
Tonight when we were studying the New Testament, I read this passage:
“but if thou canst do any thing, have compassion on us, and help us.”
And it reminded me of these incredibly capable women in my life who can do so many things and have done so many things for me to ease the pains of earth life, but above all, they have endless compassion for who I am and who I have been.
And then they just keep helping me become who I want to be.