The Truth About Change

This doily was a wedding present from a family friend who passed away this year.

When I went back tonight to read my New Year's post from last January, I had to laugh. My goal for this year was to be less of a perfectionist, to be more "out of control." Oh, the irony. I had no idea how out of control I was going to be in 2015... 

A larger Cotton + Steel version of my mini typewriter quilt (tutorial here)

There were so many good things this year. My book, Sew Organized for the Busy Girl, was released. I attended my first Quilt Market. I packed up 37 years worth of memories and moved to the Texas hill country with my family. Yet in many ways, this has felt like a year of being taken apart and put back together again. I'm starting over on so many things. Where do I go from here? Where do I want to go? 

A rainbow pillow for a friend I've never met...

The truth about change is that it's hard -- even when the changes are good. When you've done things one way for so long, it's hard to imagine doing anything else. 

My beloved Kindle cover

The good news is that every one of these changes has led me to this moment in my life where I can truly say that I'm content. I get to do what I love in a home that I love with the people I love. And though I honestly don't have a clue where I'm going in 2016, it's okay. I'm taking things one day at a time.

The hexagon bag I made for Quilt Market

Back when I was in high school, I had to memorize the poem "George Gray" by Edgar Lee Masters from Spoon River Anthology, a book of poems that are meant to be autobiographical epitaphs for the residents of a small town cemetery. As it turned out, I had to perform the same poem for a speech recital a few years later as a college freshman. Perhaps it was a lesson I was meant to relearn, both in school and in life:

I have studied many times

The marble which was chiseled for me--

A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor.

In truth it pictures not my destination

But my life.

For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment;

Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid;

Ambition called to me, but I dreaded the chances.

Yet all the while I hungered for meaning in my life.

And now I know that we must lift the sail

And catch the winds of destiny

Wherever they drive the boat.

To put meaning in one's life may end in madness, 

But life without meaning is the torture

Of restlessness and vague desire-- 

It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid.

Change isn't easy, but it's better than a lifetime of fear. I would rather go forward than stand still or, worse yet, slip backwards. So friends, may you and I lift the sail and go with joy to whatever God has in store for us in 2016.

Happy new year.