The Long Stitch Home
July 1, 2026
For the past several years I’ve been working on a patriotic quilt for the America 250th celebration. Festive red, white, and blue — with blocks alternating between eight-pointed stars and split rail fences.
Most of the quilts I make are hand pieced. I enjoy the rhythm of it—the needle, the thread, the quiet accumulation of small stitches.
But when I started this quilt, I decided to be practical. Machine piecing would be faster, I told myself. More efficient and less time-consuming. At least that was my theory.
Several years later, as I’m finally finishing the hand quilting, I have to laugh a little because this quilt took just as long as many of my hand-pieced quilts. And quite possibly longer.
And it wasn’t because the sewing machine was slower…it’s because I was. Because I discovered something I’ve spent much of my life learning over and over again: the fastest way isn’t always the way that gets me there.
Why does She Quilt?
The funny thing is, I wasn’t making the quilt because I needed a quilt.
Honestly? I already have plenty of quilts, and I know the world isn’t suffering from a shortage of blankets. So, I wasn’t quilting to solve a problem.
I was quilting because I enjoy quilting. I love everything about the process (well, except sandwiching the three layers together — that’s a necessary evil). But otherwise, I enjoy choosing fabrics — the white on white stars and the red on red poppies — then watching patterns emerge. Stitching pieces together and seeing something larger take shape. The delicious sound of thread dragging through fabric.
The making itself is part of the reward! But somewhere along the way, though, I temporarily forgot that. And that’s how I ended up choosing a method that was theoretically faster but, for me, was considerably less delightful.
A Practicality Problem
Practicality and efficiency have their place. Sewing machines are wonderful things, and I love my vintage Bernina. The sewing machine wasn’t the problem — and machine piecing truly is faster.
For someone who enjoys machine piecing.
The problem was assuming my own delight didn’t matter.
I suspect many of us do that more often than we realize. GPS routes us along the quickest route. It’s efficient, optimized, and sensible.
And then we’re surprised when something feels missing.
Not because we’ve done anything wrong, but because we’ve quietly convinced ourselves that enjoyment in our ordinary daily lives is…optional.
That somehow delight is frivolous.
Or that if something brings us joy, it must somehow be less important than the practical alternative.
Ordinary Time — the ordinary accumulation of moments that eventually become a life— gives us the time to absorb a different type of lesson.
Martha’s Checklist
There’s a story in Scripture about Martha and Mary that I’ve been thinking about lately.
Martha is busy, productive, responsible, and getting things done. Meanwhile, Mary is simply sitting and listening.
I have such a soft spot for Martha because, frankly, I understand her. In very real ways, I am her. Certainly there’s always something in need of doing — laundry, gardens, meals, shopping for groceries to make the meals, emails, projects, and on and on.
And the world tends to reward people who accomplish things.
But in thinking about that story, I kinda wonder if Martha’s real struggle wasn’t busyness. Maybe it was forgetting why she was doing the work in the first place.
You know the feeling — that somewhere between purpose and productivity, delight gets lost.
The Things We Do for No Reason at All
One of the most beautiful and awe inspiring things about being human is that we do certain things for no practical reason whatsoever.
We plant flowers and paint pictures. We write poems and make music. We bake pies. We quilt. We take lazy meandering walks down a country road. We sit on a porch swing and listen to the tree frogs while it rains.
Because creating beauty is part of what makes us alive.
Delight is not a distraction from life — delight is what sustains life.
A Question and an Invitation
A Question: Where in your life have you convinced yourself that delight doesn’t matter? What have you been rushing through simply because it seemed more practical?
An Invitation: This week, choose one thing you genuinely enjoy and give yourself permission to enjoy it. Not because it is productive or efficient. Not because it will help you get somewhere faster. But simply because it brings you delight.
“Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things” — Luke 10:41-42
Remember, you don’t have to earn every good thing.
With you in the growing,
On every level and every point, I agree and relate completely!