The Tale as Old as Time

I finished it! One month, from beginning to end, and so pleased with the result... 

Thank you, Andrew, for giving me such a thoughtful gift, and thank you, readers, for following along on this little journey with me! It was really special to spend this time listening to some of my favorite praise songs, reflecting on love and grace, and meditating on color and story and symbolism in stitches. I took so much joy in creating and worshiping the Creator in the process.

In case you were curious, the image came from the Thomas Kinkade Disney Dreams Collection, and is just a small piece of a much bigger and even more elaborate and beautiful painting called "Falling in Love." (I did look it up, and there are also 5x7"-half-picture and 16x12"-full-picture cross-stitch patterns of the same painting - that would be a challenge!) Yet another illustration of how our limited vantage point is only a small piece of the grander story...

This last song link is not "technically" a praise song, but if you've learned anything from this blog series, I'm sure you can find a way to let it lead you to worship. And if you do, please comment below and let me know how. (Also, be sure to pay special attention to the last image that is shown at the end of this music video!)

Listening to: "Beauty and the Beast," by Celine Dion and Peabo Bryson


P.S. Cross-stitching is just one way I like to be creative. I also like to color, sketch, write poetry, crochet, take pictures, etc. Maybe you like to cook, bake, garden, cut hair, carve wood, do make-up, sew, glue, paint, macrame, quilt, basket-weave, Lego-design, make wreaths, make jewelry, make music, build, fix, or renovate. Whatever you do to add beauty and life and purpose to the world, remember that it is a gift from the Creator, let it draw you closer to his heart, and use it well as an offering of praise and worship to him.

Belle, Complete

I'm so close to finishing this project! I'm done with all the cross-stitches, and am working on the outline now, and just completed the image of Belle. 

I really love the character of Belle, and I always have, because I felt like I could relate to her. She's a bookworm, a dreamer, and a little odd, not really fitting in to the quiet and predictable and "provincial" life she feels surrounded by, longing to be a part of something much bigger than herself but not knowing what that is quite yet. And for all her ideas about who she might become or where she might end up, I'm certain that she never could have imagined that she would be experiencing this moment, hand in hand and face to face with a Beast that she did not fear, but instead cared for, trusted, and loved.

Being a dreamer is hard sometimes, especially when you are a follower of Jesus. The problem isn't that we're limited and the world is too small - quite the contrary! Knowing that God is creative and awesome and has limitless resources, time, and power and that ALL things are possible with Him... and knowing that HE actually has a wonderful plan and purpose for me... is overwhelming. I tremble in silent wonder on the brink of the great unknown - the days and months and years, the steps and miles and voyages he has in store. It's all so much more than I could dream of on my own - my wildest imagination cannot touch the glory of His plan.

Over and over I see it happen to people in the Bible, and over and over again I have seen it happen in my own life: simple, quiet, unassuming characters in a poor provincial world, who just hold on to the Promise with faith and trust in the God of the universe... walking step by step into adventure and magic and thrilling hope. Oh God, you are great and do marvelous things!

Listening to: Better Than Life, by Phil Whickham 

Common Thread

I started working on Belle recently, and I was surprised by how many colors I use for her that I also used for Beast. From Dark Red-Brown to Medium Gold, it just goes to show that no matter how different we think we are, there are things that we all have in common, that bind us together.

In the story of Beauty and the Beast, the natural tendency is to think of Belle as "the Beauty," but I was reminded of what the enchantress told Beast when he was cursed: "Do not be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within." Really, the story is about discovering the beauty inside the beast. As Belle got to know the Beast, she began to see that inner beauty, through the ways he showed kindness and gentleness toward her, and in the ways he fought for her and protected her.

I was thinking about how (contrary to the handsome actors who typically play him in movies) Jesus wasn't a beauty. Isaiah said that "he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not" (Is. 53:2-3). Thing is, He is God, so he really could have picked any human shell he wanted to, right? He could have looked like Hercules or even Jim Caviezel if he had wanted to! But I think he chose to look average-to-ugly (or less than desirable) to be even more like us (Phil. 2:6-7)... to give us more common thread to relate to and feel in some way connected with him. I'm so thankful he stooped so low, not just in his life but abundantly more so in his death...

This week before Easter, as I reflect on the cross and all the bloody, gory, horrific realities it represents, I am overcome with thankfulness... because I know that Jesus died so I could be forgiven and restored. He may not have been a pretty face, but to those of us who have met him - who have been saved and redeemed and changed forever by him - he is the most beautiful person in the universe.


Listening to: How Beautiful, by Twila Paris

The Eye of the Needle

My least favorite task in this beautiful and mostly-relaxing project is threading the needle. I have an embroidery needle that has a blunt pointy-end and a longer eye, so it's not as tricky as a typical sewing needle. But I find it hard, mostly because I have a tremor in my hands. It isn't extreme, so I don't really notice it until I'm trying to do small, focused fine-motor-skill-ish things, like threading a limp string through a tiny hole.

Contrary to what this rather cool-looking image says, I am not going to tell you the secret of how to thread a needle. This is partially because I think you deserve the right to learn it on your own, partially because I don't think I actually know the secret myself, and partially because I don't think there is truly a secret at all.

I'm writing about this because today I didn't make any progress in my stitching. I could not get my needle threaded. I must have worked at it for a good ten minutes with no success. So I finally put the thread and the needle down inside the frame, took my hands off, and prayed. Because it's not just about this cross-stitch project... There are just days when I feel like I'm trying so hard to accomplish something of worth, and just wearing myself out in the process, not getting anywhere. There are just days when I feel faint in my body and spirit, and I need to take a break and refocus on the Source of my strength and hope. 

"Lord, you know the effort that I put in today. And even though I feel like I have nothing to show for it, I believe that nothing is wasted when it's given to You. So I place my life in Your hands, knowing that when I just can't do it anymore, you can." 

Listening to: "For the Moments I Feel Faint," by Relient K 

For the Birds

I finished up "the Beast" and a few odds-and-ends, so I'm now done with five or so colors! A friend told me about how if you save the bits of left-over thread, you can set it outside and the birds will use it to "decorate" their nests... which sounds like something my Grandma Chandler would have done, so I've decided to do it!

Some of what I have been finishing up involves just 1-5 stitches here and there around the edges of the image. Part of me doesn't want to waste the effort it takes to thread the needle (topic of the next post) to put a couple of tiny Xs where they may or may not even be noticed. But then I realized that these little spots are actually part of the bigger picture... the one that goes beyond the frame and the canvas. They are edges of leaves that belong to unseen trees, and they are stones that lean into other unseen stones that make up unseen walls that hold up towers that... well, you get the idea. They remind me that what is seen is not the whole story and is not where the journey ends. They are like the ellipses at the end of a sentence, indicating there is more, so much more...

(see what I did there?)


Everything in all creation points to the bigger picture - from the smallest leaf to the highest tower, from the most powerful ruler to the baby that is so tiny and new its mother doesn't even know about it yet -  nothing is insignificant in turning our focus and leading our hearts to majesty of God. Praise the Lord that what is visible is not all there is. Praise the Lord that what is mortal is not the end. Praise the Lord that his glory does not fade, his love does not fail, his mercy does not die, and his amazing story stretches from eternity to eternity... 

Listening to: "O Praise the Name (Anastasis)," by Hillsong Worship

Building Muscles

Why it was necessary to use five shades of blue in the Beast's fancy suit coat??

I worked on this relatively large chunk - probably 1/4 of the whole image - last weekend A LOT and let me tell you, my arm was hurting from the effort. Seriously, my elbows, shoulders, biceps and triceps were actually aching! And I got a little cranky from the tediousness of all the colors and their random curvy paths on the canvas. Taking a break halfway though, I looked at the unfinished product, and started to laugh:

Do you see what I see? Because what I see is rippling, bulging arm muscles being formed! I took a minute to marvel at the power of subtle shades of color in creating shadows and dimensions to express and enhance the underlying strength in the Beast's arm.

And then I took another minute to marvel at the way God uses even these tiny stitches and colorful strands and creative projects to exercise my muscles and make me stronger. The up and down motion that my right arm does over and over to pull the thread through the canvas, the constant grip of my left hand and wrist to hold the frame still while I work, the fine motor workout for my right fingers to pinch, hold and direct the needle, the silent steadiness of my left arm to hold the framed canvas up so I can see it and work on it... I'm doing something I enjoy, I'm creating something lovely, I'm meditating on and worshiping my Creator, and in the process, He is building my muscles.

Of course, strength doesn't come quickly or easily. It takes some pain, some risk, lots of trust, and lots of endurance. And in my physical and spiritual daily exercise, sometimes I don't see progress and I lose sight of purpose, and I get weary... kind of like I did in my stitching. But then God reminds me that he is doing the real "heavy lifting" and just asks me to continue to be faithful in what he has given me, and he will carry me... He is so gracious, patient, and faithful. He will finish the work that he has started in me, and it will be beautiful.


Listening to: "Make My Life a Prayer to You," by Keith Green

Three-quarter stitches

Cross-stitches are pretty basic: You've got four holes in a square, and you stitch diagonally to form Xs. It looks best if all the stitches are going the same way, and since I'm right-handed, I typically stitch bottom-left to top-right, then bottom-right to top-left. I like the pattern and rhythm of simple stitches like this...

Some patterns - like this one - add in a little challenge called "three-quarter stitches." You don't go from hole to hole in the canvas... you poke the needle through the material between the holes. It's a little hard, actually; it takes some extra force and focus to push the needle through tightly-woven strands. But it has kind of a cool effect, in that it smooths angles and makes the image look less pixelated. In that way, it is a better stitch to fulfill this special purpose:

Why am I wasting a blog post on a stitch?

There are many times in my life when I fall into a rhythm of doing the same thing - the thing that is most efficient, most familiar, and makes the most sense. And in the midst of my comfortable and predictable work, when I feel pretty confident and competent, I hear the Holy Spirit whisper to me: "Let's mix it up and do something new." New? Why? Things are perfectly fine as they are.

But see, Jesus didn't create me, die to save me, and resurrect to restore me to just have a life that is "perfectly fine." Life shouldn't be comfortable, efficient, and sensible all the time - joy, faith, passion and reckless abandon don't rise up out of that mediocrity. So God mixes it up, and asks us to try a new thing, to consider a different way, to go where we typically wouldn't, to see something that we may have overlooked all together. Sometimes it's not easy - usually it's pretty difficult, actually. It's uncomfortable and challenging, making me sweat and wonder if I'll be able to make it through alive, much less successfully. It takes my trust and dependence on the Lord to a deeper level.

And when I am faithful and obedient to listen and follow Him, I experience a way that is more adventurous and that shows me more of the heart of God. He uses it to develop something new and beautiful in me. Sure, it usually doesn't look like I thought it would (He is constantly revising and refining the pattern I planned for myself)... but it is so much better, and I am so thankful for his wisdom, guidance, and purpose.

Listening to "Red Sea Road," by Ellie Holcomb

The Beast, in Layers

Ok, enough with the background colors already... Do we even remember what this image is about? Right, Beauty and the Beast - that classic tale of unconventional and unexpected love. 

I've turned my attention to the Beast... There are four shades of brown that layer upon each other to create his shaggy head, so it took a couple days for me to complete it. As I worked on his face, I listened to the fabulous soundtrack to the live-action(ish) movie, especially enjoying Dan Stevens' solo, "Evermore."

This image that I'm stitching comes at the moment in the story when Beast realizes he loves Belle, and because of that love he has to let her go... choosing to give her freedom is a frightening and difficult thing, because she could choose to abandon him and forget him. But his love is stronger than his fear, and he does what is right, even if it hurts (or kills) him. What courage! 

It feels like the gospel is in this story... the way selfishness and hatred create a beast, a curse which cannot be reversed except through the pure and true love of another. It isn't a true analogy, because Belle isn't Jesus, she is human and has her own issues to work through... but I'll save those thoughts for when I stitch Belle. :) For now, as I focus on this moment with the Beast, I'm praising the Lord that in my weakest, worst, "beastliest" state, He loves me, and He is faithful and true. 

Listening to: "My Redeemer is Faithful and True," by Steven Curtis Chapman