Mother's Day Quilt and Workplace Missions

Mother's Day 

For Mother’s Day my daughters blessed me with a wonderful quilt and quilted shams. From the photo you can see the wallpaper and quilt don’t complement each other. The first night sleeping with the wonderous quilt I decided I’d paint the walls, but what color? White is blah.

The old drapes match the wallpaper so well, I hated to change anything. Years ago we tagged the bedroom “The Beautiful room.” Did I really want to paint and throw away the drapes?

In bedroom 

A week later I asked Marcy, “Okay, I’ve got to paint, but what color do I paint the walls?” She never gave me an answer, but one of those light bulb moments popped into my mind. “Why not change rooms? The guest-Savannah’s room has white walls and white sheers.”

See the underside pattern? 

With the help of two men, the beds were changed out and the beautiful room is still old-fashioned looking and will offer guests a great sleepover. (If I ever have guests.)

In my new room with the gorgeous quilt, two plants found a home on a bookshelf in front of the south windows. Lovely. Only life happens in spite of glorious gifts and change.

A few days after the move, I listened to Dr. Chuck Swindoll give a great message on my way to work. After I locked the car doors, I sent a prayer heavenward, “Lord, help me in my work place. Give me the heart of a missionary.”

Something inside of me broke loose. By the time I reached my desk tears threatened Why? I felt overwhelmed trying to hold back the crack in the dam. Yes, I’ve spent more money than usual in the last few months with the yard work and changes in the house, but hey, I’m living in the moment. I can save everything and not have fun or I can trust God, be diligent with my finances and enjoy life.

My emotions had nothing to do with bedrooms, changes or finances. I’d asked God to give me a missionary heart, one that cares about others, especially those I work alongside. My heart broke because I knew one of those friends in my workplace felt angry with me.

I emailed my daughters, telling them little about the circumstances, asking them to pray for me.

In only a short time I received an email from Marcy:

I will pray for you today. I have a card in my cube my mother gave me that says, “Hello this is God, I will be handling all of your problems and concerns today. That is my job. Your job is to give them to me, and then trust me.”

I replied, “Tell your mother she’s a smart woman and thank you for sharing with me.” 

Keep reading to find the answer to the problem I faced.