Grace and peace to you from God the Father, his only son our Risen Lord Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit. 

This morning feels both familiar and brand new. 

Today is a celebration of our Risen Lord, Jesus Christ, our Good Shepherd and especially the celebration of all of our mother’s. 

Happy Mother’s Day! 

This is a special day for me to recognize the many blessings I have as well as acknowledging the peace I receive from the ‘Mother’s in my life’. 

I am a beloved child of God; adopted twice, once by God and also by my mother. I have never met my biological mother, but I am blessed and thankful for her. 

As you may have heard me mention, I am proud to acknowledge that I am adopted, in a sense we are all adopted. 

My biological mother is a silent stream that flows through my life. 

Mother’s Day is a happy day for being alive, as a son, thankful for my mother, who adopted me with the promise of steadfast love, the same love God invites us to share with one another. 

That is why Psalm 23 takes on special significance for me as both comforting and satisfying. 

I continue to walk the path of love, beside both calm waters and at times the raging rapids of life that threaten to pull me under water. 

Our reading from Acts brought a connection between the tunics and other clothing that Dorcas (Tabitha) had made that got me thinking about my grandmother. 

Remembering my grandmother on this day naturally leads me to quilts.

At the Synod Assembly I attended last weekend some of the greatest work was represented by the quilt auction. 

I took the time to look at, learn, and enjoy all of the creativity on display and available to bid on. 

Perhaps you are a quilter? 

I know that one of the most important quilters in my life was my grandma Skorich. 

My grandma grew up on a farm in Braham Minnesota and was the daughter of Swedish Immigrants. 

Farming was their blood and they produced crops and livestock from land that was more affordable than it was arable. 

Farming with poor soil and less than green pastures takes patience and skill. Most of all it requires creativity, especially with a large family. 

Being with my grandma and even getting to know her mom, my great grandma was a blessing. 

The hard work and hardships they faced became the tapestry of lines and scars on the covering of their beautiful hands. 

If you have ever seen a farmer’s hands they tell a story all unto themselves. 

They are the hands that pushed a plow, planted and detasseled corn, shovelled manure and changed many diapers. 

Hands that guided animals and children to safety. 

Like a shepherd. 

Imagine what the hands of God would look like?

Picture those gnarled hands; cradling a baby, milking a cow, and even holding a sewing needle to create the beautiful handmade quilts that many of you hopefully grew up with. 

My grandma’s handiwork knits together our whole family. 

Every child in my family was given a handmade quilt from my grandma. 

A quilt that was individual to each child, unique in pattern, fitting to the baby that received this comforting quilt. 

My baby quilt kept me safe and warm. 

I think my baby quilt lasted quite a long time until it was so threadbare and literally falling apart that I disappeared for a little while. 

If you have ever had a child lose their baby blanket or quilt you know that can be very traumatic. 

Surprisingly my quilt actually never disappeared. 

My ancestors were recycling even before that term was in modern use. 

My quilt still exists as part of the batting of another quilt that my grandma made for me as I grew up. 

As I marveled at the quilts as part of the Synod Assembly I was brought back to the quilts I had been made by my grandma. 

I still to this day have never bought a quilt. 

Thanks to my grandma I have always had a beautiful quilt, crafted by loving hands and designed with grace and beauty. 

Imagine your favorite quilt and the hands that made it. 

Think of the comfort and love that made it as you lay down to sleep.

Perhaps counting sheep, a breath, a yawn, a deep Shalom you are at peace; “The Lord makes me lie down in green pastures and leads me beside still waters.” 

I pray for those people who go to sleep at night without a warm blanket, a safe shelter, and a satisfied stomach. 

God has made us a quilt in Jesus. 

A risen Christ, with us, comforting us, and shepherding us with loving hands. The hands of God’s good creation. 

Hands that gently guide, yet are ready for action in a moment's notice. 

Gnarled hands that were pierced on the cross, straining to pull upward against a world of hate suffocating him on that cross. 

Hands that took Jesus down, lovingly cared and prepared his body for burial. 

Hands of Mary Magdalene that reached out to embrace Jesus, only to be asked to wait a bit longer. 

Hands that Thomas demanded to see of the resurrected Christ. God’s hands that created this magnificent quilt of life. 

Quilts bring together history, the joy of who we are, the stories of life that are often represented in our Hmong brothers and sisters who have the most beautiful story quilts to enjoy and learn from. 

What does your quilt look like? 

How does it bring your life alive through the one who made it? Where would we be without mother’s?

We simply cannot be snatched from our mother. 

Native Americans and Indigenous people have much to teach us about the importance of our mother’s. 

At the Synod Assembly we passed a Memorial to the ELCA Churchwide Assembly in support of a National Day of Remembrance for Indian Boarding Schools. 

Schools that took children away from their mother’s and their home, snatching their quilt away. 

Many who never saw their mother again. 

Vance Blackfox of the Cherokee Nation spoke at the assembly.. 

Speaking truth to power with a loving heart and strong hands, as he is part of our ELCA that is trying to guide us along the right pathways. 

Native culture, like our own, is dependent on our mother. 

We all share a mother, especially in Mother Earth. 

Our hands that can love reach out with peace. 

“What our mothering God has given me is greater than all else, no one can snatch it out of the Mother’s hand.” 

My grandmother’s quilt cannot be taken away as long as I have the memories of her loving care and kindness. 

Steadfast love that my grandmother taught my mom and that I pray you have witnessed and experienced from all of the mother’s present and past in your life. 

For all of the mothers, a blessed Mother’s Day. 

For this we can say, “Thanks Be To God.” Amen