My stained glass journey continues....

 

[Photo used for pattern; did not use this piece of glass]

(Cliff and pattern)

Today someone asked me if I thought my stained glass journey would be where it is today. The answer is "no".  I had NO IDEA how much fun it would be, how therapeutic it would be or how much I would enjoy the learning and challenge process.

I went from one small project with minimal work on my part to doing about 15 small pieces of ornaments that required drawing out a pattern (or finding one), cutting glass, grinding, etc. Then I started making flags, strips and flowers. The flags and strips required cutting. I learned how to make jump rings. The flowers have been fun to mix and match colors. 

Then I started my big project-- Cliff. I sent off a photo to Kat (Kat Scarlett Patrick) to get my pattern. There are 37 pieces to this project. I printed the pattern on thick paper, then I started cutting out the pattern. I learned about cutting. If you include the lines, your pattern will "grow". Ideally, one cuts just on the inside of the line. I got some Cliff-colored glass and started cutting pieces. I learned that cutting pieces on a bigger sheet of glass required more thought and consideration then cutting smaller patterns out of scrap. I learned to look at the glass to find places in it that showed the colors and patterns from the photo. I learned some techniques on grinding small pieces. I learned some cutting techniques.  I learned how to cut out foil on small pieces. I learned how to make eyes by using a small kiln that goes in a microwave and turns small glass pieces into "globs". :)   

Another important lesson learned during my stained glass journey so far is that most anything can be fixed. You might need to recut, refoil, grind more, find another way to do things, etc. BUT, there are work arounds. There is a process of letting go, not being too perfectionistic, of becoming comfortable with the product. These have been good lessons. It has also be a helpful spiritual practice in that it helps me focus on the Creator. There is something expansive about creating something from within. It has helped me be more appreciative of the amazing Creation around me from Creator. 

I have gotten LOTS of help along the way. I am grateful for a patient teacher at the shop.

I'm not done yet. I have a way to go on Cliff. But I am getting there. Then I will go back to making flowers, some more flags, and a few other projects I have in mind. Oh, and this year's ornaments. But, I won't be sharing photos of those until closer to the holidays.... or even after the holidays. Those will be a surprise. Well, the patterns will be. But, hey family-- guess what gift you are getting from me this year?!?! One of the reasons I am doing ornaments as gifts is that it was so special for me to get an ornament every year from my Godmother/Aunt Carol. I have a collection of special ornaments that are part of the season.

Sometimes trying something new at a dinner and get together can lead to a new hobby, a new practice. That's what happened to me. I tried something new and then later it came back to me to try more. I jumped in and am learning and growing in this creative hobby/practice.

Honestly, I don't consider myself creative. However, I have done photography since I was a kid and enjoy contemplative photography these days. I also write. I have created things throughout the years for sermon handouts, brochures, etc. I have written a few retreats. When I am honest with myself, I am creative. Living into the unique creative juices that are me gives me life.

I encourage us all to try new things. We might just be surprised at the impact it has on us.

Enjoy the adventurous journey.

Deb

Photos of my current project (the pattern, and steps along the way-- NOT in order):

PHOTOS ARE MINE.

Credit for the pattern: Kat Scarlett Patrick

Credit for the teaching and patience: Cheryl Overmeyer 

My other blogpost about my stained glass journey:

My Stained Glass Journey... it's only just begun

New Growth

This morning as I was on the patio drinking coffee with Cliff, I noticed there was new growth, new life in the yucca planters. These yucca planters held vibrant yucca plants at one time, but had died off. Evidently I have a strong "brown thumb" and can kill even yucca plants.

I saw signs of life in the planters. I was surprised because it has been quite a while since there were signs of life. The planters themselves are pretty cool. They are Mexican pottery. I got the plants and the planters at Bees on a Bicycle. They are sadly no longer in business, as there is a life cycle for all things.

For these yucca plants, somehow, it was time for new life, new growth. I weeded out the weeds and took out the dead leaves from fall that were in the pot. 

Both planters revealed several clumps of young yucca.

As I thought about this new life and new growth, I realized that I had no idea what was going on underneath the soil. I thought the plants were gone. But, I was wrong. 

Isaiah 43:19 comes to mind: 

"Look! I'm doing a new thing; now it sprouts up; don't you recognize it? I'm making a way in the desert, paths in the wilderness." (CEB-- Common English Bible)

What new thing is sprouting up in my life? In your life? 

For me, I don't yet know, but it was encouraging for me to see new life, new growth and to remember that just because something seems gone, it doesn't mean it is. There is work being done underneath the surface, from the inside out. 

It's not an easy thing to trust what one cannot see, to believe that there is life and growth when there is no evidence.

Yet, when it sprouts up, so does the hope and encouragement.

May I, you, we remember that there is more going on within than we realize or recognize.

Here's to new things and making a way in the desert, paths in the wilderness.

May the adventurous journey continue.

Rev. Deb

One Foot in front of the Other

Until today, the phrase "one foot in front front of the other" always reminded me of the song in the Christmas special "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" (1970)

Lyrics: 

Chorus
Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you'll be walking 'cross the floor.
You put one foot in front of the other
And soon you'll be walking out the door.

You never will get where you're going
If ya never get up on your feet.
Come on, there's a good tail wind blowin'
A fast walking man is hard to beat.

Chorus

If you want to change your direction,
If your time of life is at hand,
Well, don't be the rule, be the exception
A good way to start is to stand.

Chorus

But today I heard another version. The song was written by Melanie DeMore (2016). Here is one I found online:

It was powerful. So powerful for me that I could not simply sit and listen. I got up and put one foot in front of the other, making my way to the front of the room and then around. 

I took a photo of the lyrics as we were singing so I could research the song.

Lyrics: 

Chorus: You gotta put one foot in front of the other and lead with love

Put one foot in front of the other and lead with love

(x2)

 

Don’t give up hope! 

You’re not alone

Don’t you give up

Keep movin’ on

 

Chorus

 

Lift up your eyes

Don’t you despair

Look up ahead

The path is there

 

Chorus

 

I know you’re scared

Well I’m scared too

But look at me

Right next to you

Chorus

The song is also found on the website: The Bird Sings. 

When you look at the lyrics to both songs, there is truth. There is hope. That's what I get out of them.

They both have catchy tunes and meaningful lyrics.

The song I heard and learned today echoes my heart cry-- it is my desire to lead with love.

I don't always get it right. But I will continue trying, one step at a time.

I invite you to listen to both songs. 

Where do they lead you?

Peace on the journey--

Deb

Here is the song from the service at Pilgrim Congregational: 

April 11th-- a full year since Dad passed

Dad a.k.a Robert Carter Pittman, Jr.

Until last year, April 11th has been Charlie's birthday, beginning in 2001. It was also my brother-in-law's birthday, Doug Dickerson. We were able to celebrated both birthdays together a couple of times until Doug was no longer with us.

Last year, April 11th also became the day my Dad passed.

I was at work early that day, checking on some things for the upcoming Unit inventory sale.

I got a call from my youngest brother telling me to get to the house as quickly as possible. Dad was not in a good place. He told me what had happened, but I still struggle to talk about it a year later. I rushed to the house, not knowing what to fully expect. As I rounded the bend, I saw LOTS of flashing lights. I pulled into my regular spot because an ambulance was in the other spot. A truck was in the driveway and there were multiple cars on the street.

Before I went into the house to check on Mom, I went to the ambulance. I wanted to see Dad. It wasn't good enough to be at his feet. I went around to the side. The daughter in me and the pastor in me kicked in. I wanted to see my Dad and I wasn't going to be stopped. It was not an easy sight, seeing Dad there in the ambulance, not able to communicate. I was given a little bit of hope.... they were doing everything they could.

They took off to the hospital and I went inside to get Mom to get us there too. 

I have been in hospitals and waiting rooms as a pastor. When it is your loved one, it is different. I am grateful for the chaplain. He was kind. They took us from the ER waiting room to a different waiting room. I knew what that meant. I could feel it. The chaplain offered to get us coffee, water, etc. We were all there... me, my brothers, Mom. It was surreal. The doctor came in to give us an update, talk about DNRs, etc. While talking with us, she got a code.... they had been able to revive Dad. She left quickly and then came back. Having been without oxygen for so long meant that things weren't good.

They prepared us to see Dad and prepared Dad to be seen.

That is still surreal and a blur. My Dad was no longer physically with us. He was gone. 

I had just been with him at work on Tuesday. He had been healing well from his fall that hurt his arm and leg. He had dialysis on Wednesday. Then, Thursday morning, he unexpectedly had complications with breakfast and he was gone. 

Everything was a blur. We left the hospital and headed across the street to Love's Funeral Home to make arrangements. I called a doctor's office and dialysis to let them know what happened and that Dad would not be making the appointments, ever.

We picked out a cool wooden casket, made all the arrangements, etc. 

One does what one has to do in the midst of an emergency and tragedy, There were tears, there was laughter. We joked. We planned. We did what needed to be done.

I am forever grateful for friends, colleagues, my District Superintendent and SO MANY people who let me and us know that they cared, they were there for us. 

The hardest thing for me to do on Thursday, April 11th was to let my son know that his grandfather, Big Daddy, was no longer with us. I had texted him 'happy birthday' wishes and asked when a good time to talk would be. It turned out to be that afternoon-- mid afternoon, I think. It's a horrible responsibility to share that news with someone on their special day. He was miles away, in New York City. He was finishing his semester, and planning to graduate in May. He didn't think he would be able to make it down, but he did.

I had already planned a big day Saturday at work to get rid of the inventory at the Unit. A friend made arrangements to be there with me that day. It was chilly that morning. I grabbed Dad's letterman jacket from his Dalton High School football days. I remember thinking and writing that morning: 'When the patriarch of the family and business dies, what do you do? You take him with you and do what you need to do.' Those weren't my exact words, but close.

The funeral was the following week. Family drove up from South Georgia and Atlanta and others flew in from Colorado and Massachusetts and California. Friends and colleagues came. My ex came. That was cool. I had gone to his father's funeral too. 

The funeral went well. We walked out to the final song in the program, "Battle Hymn of the Republic"     better known as "Glory, Glory to ole Georgia. Dad was a huge Bulldogs' fan. It was fitting. 

I shared in the prayers at the grave site with Pastor Rick from St. Mark's Episcopal church. The most meaningful part was throwing some dirt into the grave and shoveling some dirt into it. I watched as each of the grandkids took their turn and the great-grandkid too. It was therapeutic.

We went to the house afterwards. We shared stories.

Then a year of firsts without Dad began. My first day of work. Mom and Dad's first anniversary. The first Father's Day. The first Thanksgiving. The first Christmas. Dad's first birthday not here. There were other celebrations too-- graduation, birthdays, anniversaries. How weird to not Dad with us. There were business things that had to be done. 

Leading up to the one year, I have been reflecting on Dad's last month with us and the last week. There really isn't a day that goes by that I don't about him. His presence is palpable at work, at the house, in so many things. 

There is still much to do, to organize, to go through, etc.

And then there's all the memories.... from childhood onward. Dad is forever with me, with us. For that I am grateful.

I am so glad for the two years of working with Dad. We had many conversations about his life growing up. We talked work. I picked him up from dialysis and took him some too. I took him to some doctor's appointments. I drove him around in the golf cart around the businesses.

I recorded some of Dad's stories. I haven't gone back to transcribe them yet. I will. I learned that he preached to the chickens behind the house when he was younger. I learned that he and his sister Carol visited the neighbor's horses. I learned that Dad went to basketball games with his grandfather Frank at Emery School. I learned things about my granddad and other family members. We talked about many of his entrepreneurial adventures over the years.

I look back. I reflect. I remember. I grieve.

At the same time, I live in the present. I work the businesses. I spend time with Mom and my brothers.

I will always be grateful for all Dad was and all Dad did for me. There are lots of stories to remember. 

Today, I remember and grieve an incredible man who loved well, who lived fully, and who showed me how to do so many things.

Dad, I miss you. 

Love you much!

"Duh" (Dad's nickname for me-- "D" from my name and the vowel pronunciation of the last letter "a")

Some pictures of Dad and family over the years-- not in any order.