I love yarn. I love the repetition of the stitches while crocheting or knitting – a silent, almost meditative process. I can’t allow my mind to wander too far or I lose my count and my place. So that means I can’t spend too much time focusing on all the things I wish went differently in the day or how “totally screwed up” the day was.
The thing is, every day can’t be a Pinterest worthy experience. Those days are great! But after the maple bacon popcorn and the rainbow flubber and hand print turkeys are done, there’s a mess to clean up. Why is it that we see that with the special activities and treats and not allow the same grace with the day-to-day operations of life with a family? And why are we so willing to extend grace to others – but not to ourselves?
Yesterday was “a day.” Yelling, disobedient children, clingy baby, VERY three three year old. A friend asked our group, “What are you proud of?” I honestly couldn’t think of anything other than “I’m not rocking in the corner of a padded room or claiming ‘it’s 5:00 somewhere.'” It was not a day where there was much I would boast about to family and friends – more one I’d rather bury and forget ever happened. But that’s part of life in our broken, sinful world. The other side of the pin board.
However, no matter where we hide it, God sees all that happens and, through Christ, offers forgiveness and redemption and mercies new every morning. My friends and my husband and my kids show me His grace daily – sometimes hourly (minute-ly?). I can’t allow myself to become tied down to the crap of the past or I’ll miss the opportunity of seeing the beauty of the bigger, redeemed picture.
I love yarn. It’s a blank canvas, full of potential. It can be utilitarian and practical or frivolous and fun. It’s a deliberate, prayerful process of creation. The working of that little slither of fiber can be a huge knotted mess or a thing of beauty depending on the care and skill of the artist.
It’s time to step back and lose focus on how I tangle things up and pay closer attention to the work of the Master Craftsman.