Mushy Jazz

My sister has been working on that beautiful piece of art since June. I couldn't get enough of those cheeks; they begged for kisses from Auntie Em. And for this kissable masterpiece, I have been working on this piece of art since October:

Don't look too closely, this mo is tragically flawed, visibly imperfect, and obviously my first quilt. Back when I started the work of piecing this baby together, I quickly encountered the reality that there was no way in hell, heaven, or Earth that this quilt was going to get made without noticeable quirks. My quilting sensei encouraged me to sew this quilt by hand so that I could consciously pray for my niece as I stitched. And so I did. I prayed that as she grows and becomes familiar with her fallen state and the emptiness of the world, that she experiences the confidence of knowing she is loved powerfully and wholly... and not because of how perfect or flawless she is, but just because she exists... that she knows things can be beautiful even though they are flawed. That the love and intention that goes into the existence of a thing is what gives it meaning. Her parents, her family, her Creator- enraptured by her very being. I pray that when she is 13 and mean girls make her feel not good enough that she looks at her quilt and remembers that she is more than adequate... when she is 16 and a boy breaks her heart, I pray her quilt reminds her that there is life after brokenness...

You, dear reader, I pray this for you, too. Your existence was intentional. You are flawed... even more than you'll ever realize. And that's okay. You are still meaningful... far more than you'll ever realize.