Oceans of prayers

Yesterday morning I decided I needed to knit a prayer shawl. I was going to try to purchase something of that nature (wanted to send a loving hug to someone dear who lives far away) and then started reading up on prayer shawl ministries and learned about the significance of actually knitting or crocheting it oneself. The point is to pray for the individual who will receive the shawl as you are creating it. For far too long I have wondered what to do, and now I finally had an answer. But how to start? Faced with a mind-bending myriad of patterns for various skill levels, I consulted a friend who is an expert at this sort of thing. I needed a pattern for a relative novice (I've previously only knitted scarves out of Pomp-a-Doodle yarn). 

I'm rather excited about the progress I made yesterday. I debated in my head about sharing it on Shiny Things and potentially ruining a surprise. But perhaps the recipient will see this and know that I have been thinking and praying for her ... 

This color - ocean - speaks of sun and sand and salty air and crab cakes ...
cold beer and laughter. Dorie telling stories and lovingly sewing
soft and colorful blankets for nieces and nephews.
Healing and happy thoughts.

The stitching has not proceeded without hitch. I had to contact my consultant a few times in the process. I completely mis-read the pattern and had to pull my misshapen creation apart and start over after several rows of doing exactly the wrong thing. In between logistical issues of that sort and dog-sitting, I found myself reflecting on lovely memories. Praying for healing and comfort and peace - for a dear aunt and other loved ones who have had health challenges. Also for my community, which has been experiencing a rash of violence. But mostly I have focused my prayers and thoughts on one person. 

When you're knitting you can't do anything else with your hands. Like write. Or paint. Or pull weeds, fix the toilet flapper or vacuum behind the fridge. But your mind can wander ... and mine sure does. My thoughts linger on those undone tasks a little bit. They're not going anywhere. And I pull my attention back. The experience reminds me that the blending of the mundane with memories and faith and hope in miracles is all wrapped into the complicated essence of prayer. Prayer at its simplest is talking to God - to the One who knit us together in our mothers' wombs. It is inviting God into every stitch of our lives - and putting at His feet the situations that seem quite impossible to our human understanding. I'll admit that God and I have watched a few movies together while we knitted away and contemplated all of these things. It never ceases to amaze me that God is present in every moment and at the same time is able to be within the oceans of prayers that flow his way.