The last time I made one was in the nineties. I was taking classes from a woman who guided me through my first double wedding ring, my first scrap quilt, and then a pattern I was unfamiliar with called bargello. In it, each row of rectangles becomes part of a series, connecting the pieces on either side. If even one of them were lost, the motion would falter.

 

I was an eager student, following the teacher's every suggestion as if it were a mandate. She introduced me to a technique called "quilt as you go", which felt like cheating it was so great. When that project was complete I was so excited I made three more. 

 

Last fall I landed five commissioned quilt jobs before Christmas. Two were one block wonders, one a train themed design, another of t-shirts and the last was a blast from the past. A bargello. I rattled the recesses of my brain to recall how the process worked. Bought a book. Watched a You Tube.  But in the end it was the muscle memory of slicing a tube of color into loops, and stair stepping up and down to create the illusion of movement. It felt great.

 

While I was taking that class twenty five years ago it never crossed my mind that this would be helpful in 2019. It hadn't occurred to me to be curious about my life in 2019. Yet it was.

 

I find God to be particularly fond of such economy of learning. He is not satisfied with disposable skills, or single use events. 

 

A friend who is caring for her aging father in law is having deja vu around mothering her babies long ago. A man who followed his dad around while he did home repairs is better able to maintain his own house. The parenting class I took ages ago based on How to Talk So Your Kids Will Listen and Listen So Your Kids Will Talk sheds light on my work now as a Stephen minister. The Halloween outfits I created for my children inform my current job of costuming a show.

 

Seeing the emerging sequence behind me is reassuring. As if these apparently broken events are leading into a future we cannot quite see yet.