“Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say it again; Rejoice! — Philippians 4:4
When I’m not quilting or writing, I enjoy crocheting. I especially love to create lace doilies. I learned crocheting when I was about 13 years old. Drawing on my 40 plus years of
experience, I estimate 85 percent of all crocheted doily patterns finish with a “picot” border edging. Since I reserve the word hate for only the wickedest of the world’s atrocities, I’ll just say I strongly dislike making the picot stitch. It’s as annoying as it is tedious. It is a tiny knot that, in the process of creating, you must turn back on itself in order to secure it. The easy flow of other crochet stitches is brusquely interrupted due to the stopping, turning, twisting and contorting of both the crochet hook and my wrist just to make this little decorative “bump” of thread.
Oh, but how beautiful it looks in the end. I sometimes try to design another way to finish my doily, but nothing gives the finishing touch or looks quite as lovely and delicate as the little picots do. For all my complaining, the tedium and stress is always worth enduring as I sit back and admire my final product.
Isn’t this a typical story of finales? For example, I enjoy flying, except for landing. It is inconceivable to me how those seemingly tiny wheels can handle the enormous weight — tons of it — of the plane, passengers and luggage as it drops down to the pavement traveling several hundred miles an hour. In the moments before landing, I’m usually thinking to myself, “Are they sure they didn’t put too many suitcases on the plane this time?” Or, “Perhaps this is the one time that the check-in lady should not have allowed the suitcase weighing 50 1/2 pounds, owned by the handsome man with a kind smile, because now the weight has just slightly exceeded what those spindly-legged wheels can handle.” More often than not, I’m asking, “Lord, why did I have that second dessert last night?”
When I disembark to see someone I love waiting to hug me, the stress of landing quickly dissipates. In the comforting embrace of a loved one, the momentary landing trauma melts into a miniscule disturbance and is quickly forgotten. It was well worth suffering through the last leg of the trip to reach my destination.
It is almost always the case that the finishing touches or last-minute preparations cause the most stress in any celebration. I am in the midst of planning a big party right now. I already have a long “to-do” list of tasks which cannot be done until the week before or even the day before the event. It will be stressful, but on the other side of that stress,
there will be happiness and beauty. There will be colorful decorations and delicious foods. There will be friends and family reunited and treasured memories revisited. Mostly, there will be many loved ones celebrating the life of my 90-year-old Godmother, Dottie.
And so it is with the Easter Season. The last few days of Holy Week are very difficult and stressful. Besides the fasting and the final preparations, I try to find time to walk the Stations of the Cross. Visualizing Jesus’ suffering takes a toll. His mother’s pain is unimaginable. Veronica’s attempt to give Jesus comfort always touches me in a deeply personal way. Jesus is nailed to the cross. He suffers, and dies . . . such horror and deep sadness.
Then, finally, He is Risen and Easter is here! We celebrate with colorful decorations and delicious food. Here in New England, Spring is in full swing. The trees are coming alive and the flowers are beginning to bloom. Every morning as the sun rises, it reminds me of stage
curtains opening for a beautiful orchestral performance. The birds begin singing a new song and each baby blossom seems to be trumpeting, “He died for us, giving us new life!” To me, the Easter Season is like a gorgeous row of perfectly crocheted picots! I’m just sitting back and admiring His work.