Learning to enjoy and appreciate a process or a journey is difficult for me. I generally have my mind set on my destination, and all my energy is focused on reaching my goal. But I am learning that God cares just as much about our journey as our destination, and He loves to show us the beauty along the way.

Four years ago, I entered a fabric store on a whim. I had been living out of state for a few years, seeking my next step in life, but I had returned home for just seven weeks to help fill a staff shortage that my dad had at his place of work. Since my time at home was temporary, I did not have many other obligations there, and my hands were growing restless and looking for a project to keep them occupied in the evenings. 

As I meandered through the store and between tables, each one covered in a variety of fabrics of endless colors and patterns, my eyes were drawn to a dark purple fabric with a lovely, flowered pattern of dark and light blue, yellow, pastel pink, and lilac purple, with hints of olive green. I knew immediately that this was the fabric I wanted, and I soon found an olive green fabric, a soft pastel pink, and a shiny light blue that perfectly matched the purple pattern I had found previously. I decided right then and there that I wanted to make a quilt, and though I hadn’t the faintest idea of how to do so, I knew that the seed of the idea had been firmly planted inside me, and I was looking forward to the process.

Without anyone to guide me or get me started properly, I hesitated to cut such beautiful colors into squares, and therefore my progress was slow. And then life happened. Things got busy. I began to prioritize other things. In addition to the distractions of life during the seven weeks of being at home, I decided to move back home permanently, which required traveling back to where I had been living, packing up and moving everything home, and, in a sense, starting over with life. The quilt material was carefully packed away in my closet, to be brought out again…someday, maybe.

Two years of life went by, and then I was invited to spend a few days with my aunt in Arizona, who is a quilter. She had heard of the project I had hoped to complete, and suggested I bring my fabric along. So, I did, and was once again excited to begin to see progress on what earlier had only been the seed of an idea in my mind.

We began by laying out all my fabrics and discussing pattern ideas. We decided to expand upon the material I already had, and made a trip to the fabric store, where I found a rich, dark blue and a cheery, flowery yellow. In addition, from her endless supply of extra fabric, my aunt contributed a cream-colored fabric, a solid lilac purple, and a light, flowery green on a cream background. 

With all the fabric washed, dried, ironed and gathered together, we proceeded to cut it into blocks. The pattern I had chosen was a series of rectangles in rows, with the row below starting and ending with a square to offset the rectangles, resulting in a brick wall look for this small, lap quilt. I took my time laying out all the colors, fitting them together in the way that felt right in my heart and was pleasing to my eye. When I had officially settled on the exact order of all my pieces, I began to sew the rectangles together in rows, and then the rows together one by one, ironing each piece and row as I went.

When that part of the process was finished and I saw the completed top of the quilt for the first time, I nearly cried. After all the waiting and the dreaming, I was finally beginning to see the fruit of my patience and desire. It was beautiful! I had created something with my own hands, and it was turning out even better than I had imagined.

When I returned home from Arizona, my quilt top and back were both completed, but the last steps of layering, quilting, and binding remained. Once again, without someone to guide me through the final processes, I carefully placed the unfinished quilt in my closet, awaiting the day when everything would finally come together the way it was intended to be.

Another two years of very busy life went by, and I once again found myself heading to Arizona, this time in hopes of finally finishing the project that began four years ago, when I first wandered into that fabric store and stumbled upon that beautiful flowery, multi-colored purple fabric.

Upon my arrival at my aunt’s house, I discovered to my great frustration that I had forgotten to bring the fabric for the binding, the final step in completing my quilt. I was angry at myself for my thoughtlessness, and even briefly explored the option of having it mailed to me, when I had a thought: What if God has other plans for this trip this time?

We spent half a day on the layering of my little quilt, which involved ironing the top, the middle (batting), and the back, taping the back tautly to the floor, gluing all three layers together, and placing safety pins to reinforce the glue. During this time, I was pondering what to do for my actual quilting stitch, the process that permanently attaches the three layers together. Nothing that I had attempted on some practice fabric seemed to be working well. I was getting frustrated because I was too focused on getting the stitching pattern perfect, or following a line exactly, and I wasn’t enjoying the process. I finally took a break from the sewing machine and tried drawing some ideas on paper instead. I quickly discovered a stitch pattern that I didn’t even know would work, but it was what my heart and my hand wanted to do, and my aunt assured me it was possible: gentle, wavy lines running from one end of the fabric to the other, vertically through every row of the fabric bricks.

It was perfect. Not the sewing, or the stitches, or the seamstress, but the process. I was able to give myself complete freedom from perfectionism, freedom to make mistakes and call it beautiful. It was a time of creativity and growth, an opportunity to be patient, to be at rest, and to be content with the imperfections that made this quilt unique. And what a sense of satisfaction and pride when I could hold it up and know I had enjoyed every step of the journey, taken my time along the way, and had something beautiful to show for it.

But that’s not all. The icing on the cake for me was the fact that because I had forgotten the fabric needed to complete the quilt, we had extra time on our hands…which was just what I needed in order to dream again. Why not begin work on a second quilt? Could this be part of what God had in mind for this trip?

This time the idea was bigger, both in quilt size and in pattern difficulty. Back to the fabric store we went, where my eye was immediately drawn to a beautiful watercolor pattern in blue, green, and purple. As I continued looking, it became clear that my heart already knew what it desired to create, as I continued to be drawn to many watercolor patterns in the same color spectrum. When all was said and done, we had a variety of complementary watercolor fabrics and some solid colors as well: light and dark teal, royal blue, summer yellow, and a softly patterned light purple for the back of the quilt. And while we did not have or make the time to even start cutting these fabrics on this trip, I again recognized and was so grateful for the gift of simply enjoying the journey.

And so, there is now another dream in my heart, even as my smaller quilt is not yet 100% completed. But the end of the season for that quilt (and perhaps also for me) is in sight, and a new season is beginning. This new and bigger quilt will become what it was meant to be in the hands of its creator when the time is right, but the process must not be rushed.

I think it is often this way in life. Perhaps God puts a dream in our hearts; He plants a seed, but it takes time for that seed to germinate and grow. He often tells us about the dream, and perhaps even where it will take place, but the timing isn’t usually what we want or expect. For we must grow and change to be ready for the new season, and our growth often happens during God’s delays. There are things He wants to do in and with our lives. And in due time, we, too, will become what we were meant to be in the hands of our Creator.