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My frame was not hidden from Thee when I was made in secret,
intricately wrought in the depths of the earth.
Thine eyes did see my unformed substance,
and in Thy book were written all the days that were ordained for me,
even when as yet there was not one of them (Ps. 139:15-16).
A Star Is Born
The year was 1983, the day June 9. Early in the day I was present at the birth of my fourth grandchild, James. Then at four o’clock in the afternoon I headed for the art gallery hosting the Biennial Exhibit of the Embroiderers’ Guild of America in which I had entered five works of art.
When I arrived at the reception for exhibitors, a crowd had gathered around my large quilt “Celebration,” which had been hung right inside the door. As I was recognized as the artist, they all exclaimed “Congratulations!”
My first thought was of the babe that had been born, and so I said, “Thank you! It’s a boy.” But they didn’t know what I was talking about, so I looked around and saw the blue and gold ribbons hanging beside the piece (blue for First Prize in the Quilting category, gold for a Judge’s Best in Show). Immediately they began to ask questions about various details on the quilt: “Why did you put that there?” “What does this represent?” “Can you tell us what the flags mean?”
For more than a half hour I stood beside my quilt explaining the meaning in each detail and telling stories about the wondrous things God had been doing in my life, It was a new experience for me, and I found it exhilarating! More than that, I could feel the Lord’s anointing. The audience was hanging on every word. I must have spoken well and captured their interest because they wanted more and more. I felt like a star on a new stage for the first time.
When I finally got to see the rest of the exhibit, I realized that four of the five works I had entered won ribbons, evidence that my designs and stitching were worthy of merit.
Three days later, still floating on the excitement of my June 9 experiences, I went to the annual fair at my church. It was a big fair with many special events and over 200 tailgate vendors.
It being a warm, sunny Saturday, there were people milling around everywhere. Included among the plentiful crowd were all my friends. Having heard of the recent wondrous happenings in my life, they sought me out to hear the story first‑hand. It was like being queen for a day.
For hours I recounted the events of James' birth and my emergence as an artist with a message. How many times I told that story, I'll never know. After reliving the excitement with each person I saw, my whole being became saturated, numb and very tired. I even lost my voice from talking so much! It was time to go.
With the intention of making a quick tour of the tailgate vendors before going home, I drifted onto the field with no thoughts in mind, just the glow of contentment and “oofs” of happy fatigue.
I hadn't passed a half-dozen cars when I stopped dead in my tracks. Lying on a table in the sunshine was a dark, dingy block of wood about 6” square with an intricate pattern carefully carved on one side and a handle on the other. The pattern was of a babe about to be born. After the experiences of the previous day, I could not take my eyes off that block of wood!
For weeks I had been wondering what my next embroidery project would be. Here was a pattern with a motif so personal and timely that I felt compelled to embroider it. In fact, as I stood there I had already started to visualize which stitches I would use.
Holding the wooden block in one hand, I stood motionless, staring at its pattern. Every detail seemed to have significance. Even the stitches I would choose to use were pertinent for each symbol. Turning the block over I noticed a little white sticker saying "$4". *
"That's a lot of money for a dingy, old block of wood," I mumbled and resumed my reverie. For the longest time I just stood there, rhapsodizing over the pleasure I would have in stitching this little babe, totally unaware that I was being watched by the vendor.
Impatient for a sale, he interrupted my thoughts by saying, "They used those blocks for printing fabrics."
The word "fabric" rang a little bell in my head. I smiled, thought to myself "It's interesting that he said that," and continued to rhapsodize.
He tried again. "I'll give you two for five dollars."
I looked up, fixed my gaze on him, and said, "If there's another block on that table that has anything whatsoever to do with me, you have a deal." He nodded in agreement.
The table was covered with similar blocks of wood, all lying face down. There must have been well over a dozen. Reaching down with my free hand, I took hold of another block at random and turned it face side up. And what do you think I saw? - my initials, M.W. *
Wow! Talk about
Providence! Totally whelmed in amazement, I held out the block for the vendor to see and said, “My initials are M. W.! It has everything to do with me. You have a deal."
I'll never forget the look on his face. He had been watching my amazement, and now I saw his. He, too, seemed aware that the living God was present and operative. I paid the vendor the five dollars and took the two blocks home. Receiving these two new patterns in this way felt like a commissioning from God for two more embroidered works of art. I knew instantly that the name of the first would be "Birth of a Star" with "Signature" its companion piece.
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