Christian Personal Growth, Christian Spiritual Growth
Date Published: September 28, 2021
Publisher: Clay Bridges Press
Redemptive Grace uses personal accounts from the author's life to identify with people on topics that everyone faces. These transparent stories touch on anger, depression, self-harm, loss of a baby, death of a parent, separation, and divorce as well as triumph, joy, and hope. The reader will have the opportunity to journal their own experiences and thoughts in each section.
The heart behind Redemptive Grace is for the reader to:
● Identify struggles and construct a plan for battling those issues.
● Be reminded that God is in the details of each life.
● Be encouraged in the truth of God's incredible love for every person.
● Reflect on their own stories and find God's presence.
● Understand that God's grace is so great that there is nothing that He can't or won't redeem.
Excerpt:
My Grandmama was a seamstress. She was incredibly gifted. Sure, she could hem pants, repair a zipper, and even make a “hippie” dress if I asked for it. Beyond that, Grandmama had a special skill set. As far back as I can remember, Grandmama worked in a bridal salon. I used to love going to work with her on Saturdays. She would allow my sister and me to help hang up dresses and style mannequins. We would make signs to hang up on the sale rack. We would straighten up the magazine area and vacuum the carpet. She would take us to Burger King for lunch and give us money to get candy from the drug store next door. If there was a slow day, Grandmama would even let me try on dresses! While I wouldn’t say that I was a girly-girl growing up, I did appreciate pretty things. There was this one dress that I coveted. The bodice of the dress was gold with jewels lining the top. The skirt was yards and yards of white tulle with gold flecks. When I saw that dress, I was inspired. When I would try on the dress, I would feel elegant and important. Apparently, I was the only person in our town who loved that gown. For years it hung on the sales rack. Every time I visited the shop, I would run the material through my fingers. I cannot imagine how many times Grandmama helped in and out of the dress. Then, my senior year of high school, the gold dress became mine! I graced the stage of my high school’s musical wearing the gown I had been drawn to since I was a little girl. Grandmama always had a sewing room wherever she lived. The room would be filled with ball gowns, bridesmaid attire, prom dresses and bridal ensembles. Her sewing room was a showroom. She was known in our community for her talent and local celebrities visited her home from time to time to have their dresses altered just right. The sewing room had two machines set on top of sturdy tables. In one corner of the room was a cabinet of drawers filled with sequins, pearls, lace, tulle, and all things that sparkled. There was a smaller cabinet stuffed with thread of various colors and strengths. On one wall was an ingenious creation of Grandmama’s design . . . a small platform with a yard stick attached in order so she could measure each hemline perfectly. On another wall was a floor length mirror where the patron could take in the beauty of her gown and watch Grandmama painstakingly measure and pin. Every girl who entered that room was treated as if she was the first girl to ever go to a dance, the first bride to walk down an aisle. I was so blessed to have a personal seamstress. Not only was my Grandmama skilled with the needle and thread, but she was also the most frugal person. Every homecoming or prom dress I had was found at a steal of a deal. Truly, my senior prom dress was nineteen dollars! We would look for dresses where the price was right, then Grandmama would make the dress fit me, as if it were designed specifically for me. Grandmama was not a talkative person. She was no-nonsense. I was most scolded by her for being “foolish” . . . translation, I was perky, chatty, and sang a lot of the time. Our personalities were not the same, but we worked well together. I remember one time we were searching for a homecoming dress at the mall, and while I was trying them on, my Grandmama told me, “Amber, you’ll be a great mother.” I almost passed out! She did not give out compliments. I was blushing with pride when the sentence continued. “You’ve got big hips that will make it easy to carry a baby.” There you go. Thanks, Grandmama.
When I was in college, I was invited to
the spring formal, and I wanted a dress from my Grandmama. She and I went
fabric shopping, and I picked out the prettiest print of dark green and blue. I
had it measured and cut and felt that I was doing my Grandmama proud. I picked
out a pattern, and we headed to her house. A few weeks later, when the dress
was completed, I tried it on and felt lovely. My Grandmama said it was the
ugliest dress with the “loudest” fabric she had ever made. She then asked if I
was sure I wanted to wear it in public. It’s still one of my favorite things I
have ever worn. There was a sweet side to my Grandmama, too. When I decided to
drop out of college, get married, and move away from home when I was nineteen
years old, my Grandmama was one of my biggest supporters and helpers. I doubt
that she agreed with my choice, but she helped me, nonetheless. She took my
Mama, sister, and me to a wholesale warehouse where we purchased all the
flowers. She designed and made the bouquets and boutonnieres. She scouted our
town for the best prices for suits for the men and boys. She made my wedding
dress.
Now, to work in a bridal salon for
years and years, to know every designer’s name, to know the price points and
the styles put my Grandmama ahead of the game when it came to wedding dress
searching. The hunting party for the perfect dress included my Mama, my sister
and my Grandmama. My Mama was a mess because I was getting married and leaving.
To her, I looked perfect in everything. My sister was unimpressed by gowns and
thought I was crazy for getting married. My Grandmama was the voice of truth.
We went all over the place looking for the dress that was in my head. I could
never find “the one”; at least not “the one” for “the price.” It didn’t help
that I was getting married in the winter but had always wanted a summer,
outdoor wedding. One day, I was at the mall looking for bridesmaid dresses, and
I saw a simple white corset- style bodice hanging randomly in the dress
section. I bought it and took it to my Grandmama. My fingers were crossed that
I had made a smart purchase and that Grandmama would approve. Grandmama took
the bodice in her hand, turned it over a few times, examined the seams, traced
the lines with her finger, tested the zipper, then looked at me. “It’s plain.
It’s not you. But I can make it yours.”
About the Author
Amber was born and raised in western North Carolina. After high school, she spent some time living in other parts of the country. While she enjoyed the adventure of being in different places and meeting new people, she was happy to move back to the mountains. Amber says she took the scenic path to her college education, but she loves utilizing her bachelor’s degree in Sociology and her master’s degree in Education: Family and Community Services. Her education helped shape her thoughts, but her life experiences helped shape her heart. Amber has worked in the educational world for twenty years in every role from volunteer to substitute teacher to assistant to small group teacher. She has worked in church world for several years as a small group leader, Bible study teacher, children’s director, and women’s ministry coordinator.
Amber is married to Brian and together they have four children. Together, Amber, Brian and the kiddos still at home enjoy traveling, playing games, watching movies, trying new foods, and attempting to tame their dog.
Amber makes it a personal goal to remind every person she works with that they were created on purpose, with a purpose and for a purpose. She loves helping children and women connect the experiences of their lives with the presence of the God who created them and loves them.
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