And, sisters, be careful of the things you purchase that require mending for there will be a hefty amount of mending to do anyway--the skinned knees, the heart broken, the bread burned, and the moments that slip away before you've had a chance to string them together in a meaningful, unforgettable way.
And while you have been given the gift of repair, the gift of needle and thread made of your tears and your deep knowing ways, take a moment to consider your own stitches, unraveling in places, held strong in others and take the time to meet God at those places, to hold those places to you as a garment fit for a queen. For while you are made mostly of the strong stitches, the open places, the tears and unraveling allow you to breathe, to cry openly, to make something new from the places you have come apart. We reconnect. We recover. We remember and we receive.
I wanted to also warn you that you may be inclined to become too attached to what you do, looking to it as if it is who you are. And while we should always honor the gift of our work and do those works with all our hearts--the work of the daughter, the mother, the sister, the learner, the teacher, the work of the painter, the poet, and the wife--do not forget that before you are any of those things, you belong to God and your purpose is to love Him with all your being. For when you trust Him and love Him, you will find solace anytime you feel you have fallen short as a daughter, a mother, as a wife or a sister. As I've grown older, I've come to realize that those titles, the ones that women so often cling to like a life raft--student, teacher, waitress--they are momentary occupations. Don't worry, my dears. Don't worry.