Merry Christmas!

I quilt with a lot of non-native North Carolinians.  I took stock of this a few years ago.  Granted the Network Needlers group I meet with once-a-month hail from all parts of the United States and other countries.   I am the sole North Carolina girl among them.  As far as my local High Point Quilt goes?  Probably 14 out of 35 members were born in the Old North State.  In my Tuesday night Zoom and Sew, I’m in the minority.  Only four of us have North Carolina on our birth certificates.

Everybody else is from “up North” – which in my world can range from Ohio to Michigan.  My BFF Janet hails from Indiana.  My other BFF Susan is from West Virginia.  All great folks.  And the one thing they definitely do better than I do is drive in the snow.  North Carolina rarely has snow, and when we do, it is such a typical southern cliché – everything shuts down (even if it’s only a dusting) and there’s a mad dash to the Teeter or the Pig for milk, bread, coffee, and wine.

But I do love a good snow.   Not so much one that shuts everything down for days or threatens my electrical current, but I love the peace and quiet it brings, blanketing our world in an icy insulation of peace.  It lands softly and unpretentiously, unlike a noisy thunderstorm which announces its arrival from miles away.

There’s a Christmas carol called Winter Song written by Chris Tomlin:

You could’ve come like a mighty storm
With all the strength of a hurricane
You could’ve come like a forest fire
With the power of heaven in Your flame

But You came like a winter snow
Quiet and soft and slow
Falling from the sky in the night
To the Earth below

Oh, You could’ve swept in like a tidal wave
Or a big ocean to ravish our hearts
You could have come through like a roaring flood
To wipe away the things that we’ve scarred

Oh, but He came like a winter snow
So quiet, so soft, so slow
Falling from the sky in the night
To the Earth below, oh-oh, oh-oh

Ooh, no, Your voice wasn’t in a bush burning
No, Your voice wasn’t in a rushing wind
It was still, so small
It was hidden, ooh

You came like a winter snow
So quiet, so soft, so slow
Falling from the sky in the night
To the Earth below, ooh, oh
You came falling
From the sky in the night

The Christ-child’s arrival took many by quiet surprise.  Instead of being born in a palace, He was born in a manger, an unlikely place, in a humble dwelling outside of Bethlehem.  Instead of sweeping in like a new, future king, attended by government and palace officials, He was welcomed by shepherds and sheep, cows and goats, attended by a young, inexperienced mother and a somewhat bewildered but loving earthly father.  Instead of having unlimited palatial wealth, his parents could only afford the cheapest sacrifice (two birds) when they presented Him at the temple. 

It was the prophet Isaiah who foretold Jesus coming in this manner.  Isaiah prophesied the coming Savior would “not shout or cry out” nor would He come in power like a hurricane or raging fire.  Instead Jesus came gently in order to draw us to Himself with His offer of Peace – a peace still available to anyone who believes the story of a Savior born in a manger, who announced His arrival with a baby’s cry, made salvation available when He declared “It is finished!” and sealed our eternal life when an angel announced, “He is risen.”

Merriest of Christmases from My Studio to Yours,

Love and Stitches,

Sherri and Felix