You know how I've
been whining for months about mentioned my machine not being quite right?
Since I am not currently immersed in a project
(although, I will be starting one next week that I'm getting very excited about!)
I figured it would be a good time to go visit the shop.
(I really like Jeannie and Patrick at the Sewing Machine Center; they're good people.)
Jeannie messed and messed with it - they always try to get me fixed up without having to leave the machine if possible.
(I must get a wild, desperate look in my eye when they mention it staying.)
We determined that no amount of adjusting would fix it - it needs a new tension unit.
A computerized ($250!) tension unit.
(It's a very nice machine!)
And it'll be a week or so 'til I get it back.
I actually cried a little.
I think I may be emotionally attached to my machine.
I briefly considered trading it on a new one - just so I wouldn't be without a machine.
I quickly came to my senses and remembered that I didn't want a new machine; I wanted that one.
(but gosh - the 12 inch throat on the Janome 8900 sure did look nice!)
You know, when the girls and I bought that sewing machine for Jesus, I had to think long and hard about it.
I mean, it isn't exactly food or life-saving.
But then again, maybe it is....
I feel like sewing, as silly as it may seem, has been part of my healing.
The prayers have helped. And of course, my hormone creams. And Tyler's love and patience. And an improved diet.
But there were times (in the past - I am soo much better now) when the only time I felt anything close to alive,
or remotely happy, was while I was sewing.
My mind and heart and even my body would be in so much turmoil, but when I focused on what I was creating,
for those brief moments, I was okay.
I couldn't be all bad, if I could make something pretty. right?
I feel like sewing has been a gift from God to me.
That's why I wanted to buy Jesus a sewing machine.
The woman who receives it can use money she earns from her sewing to buy food.
It will buy her freedom.
I see her giddy when she masters new skills.
And clapping her hands with delight at her finished projects.
I see her focusing on her work, and forgetting her troubles for a moment.
I see her growing more confident as more people buy what she creates,
and she buys healthy food for her family.
I see her noticing beauty around her,
now that she no longer has to wonder if her child will die today from hunger.
I see her smile.
And it's beautiful!
Maybe a sewing machine is life-saving after all.
I feel a little discombobulated, not having my machine.
The up side is,
I have plenty of time to clean off my sewing desk,
which, except for the little empty rectangle space my machine usually occupies,
is anywhere from 2 - 10 inches deep in fabric, tools, scraps, and patterns.