If you know me at all, you know I love photos. And paper. And Christmas. And the post office. And writing.
So it makes sense that I really love the whole Christmas card and letter thing. I really do. We didn't do one last year. This year I wanted to do one that was so awesome when you opened it, you would see fireworks and hear angels sing.
At least that's how it sort of manifested itself in my head. I wanted to do right by Eli and make everything just so. Our friend started a photography biz and we hired her to take our pic the week after Thanksgiving. And I got a groupon last month to design and print our card (from a company I've never used).
Thankfully, everything went fairly smoothly. Eli was on the verge of a nap before our photo shoot but we got some good smiles (thanks Michelle). She got us the photos quickly and designing the card was fairly painless.
On to the letter. I had a great idea a few months back to "sew" stitches on our letter, for a cool, crafty addition to white paper. I could use regular 'ol paper, which I often get for free because of a sale at office supply stores (which I really like, they remind me of my old jobs and office-y life).
I wrote most of the letter a few days ago and finished it last night. I had Greg get the sewing machine down from the attic, which is no easy task. That thing weighs a ton. And it's up in the attic for a reason: I don't know how to sew. I have sewn in the past, but always with my mother right there (and most often taking over for me because I whined too much).
I don't even know how to thread the darn thing. I had written instructions on a yellow piece of paper that my mom dictated to me a few years ago. Obviously I stared at that for a good fifteen minutes in wonder. I found some dated YouTube videos and learned enough to wind my bobbin. I accomplished that and felt like a rock star. I called my mom to brag.
I then tried threading the machine. I think I got it. It seemed to work, do what it was supposed to do. I was all full of anticipation and much pride at this point. I wanted to do a cool zig-zag sort of stitch. There are lots, way too many, levers on this old Singer machine. Some of them look like zig-zags so I was pulling levers and turning dials all over the place. My mom (on the phone) said I need to make sure my needle wouldn't break off if my whatchamacalit wasn't the right size. So I texted her a photo to get the okay on that (thanks, technology).
And I was off!
Problem was: it looked terrible. I tried many different types of stitches but none really looked that great. I think if I used card stock it would have been okay. But it looked dumb. And by the end, I think Mr. Singer wasn't too happy. The back of my paper was a red threaded mess! And even the few I thought could work, well, it would take waaay too long to stitch 120 pieces of paper. I don't have that time. Eli's naps are not that long.
I wanted to print the letter so I can try get them in the mail today or tomorrow. I didn't have any cool Christmas paper on hand, my stamp pads were dry, and we don't have a color printer. I had to improvise and quickly create a graphic matching our card. It looks grayishly alright but nothing, oh nothing, like the beautiful dream I had for my letter, all stitched and crafty and genius.
I say all that to say: often Christmas cards and letters just show the pretty outside of our lives. They most likely don't show what's really going on in our daily lives, in our hearts. That's the messy, the sinful, the stuff we are so desperately in need of God's grace for. A lesson for me, for us. Don't spend all your time trying to make your outsides flawless and perfect. You won't succeed. We are imperfect people, completely dependent on some amazing grace.
"Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you clean the outside of the cup and plate, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. You blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and plate, that the outside also may be clean." Matthew 23:25-26
-Heather
Oh, and if you want a card and I don't have your address, get that to me please! I promise no fireworks.
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