The preacher man tells us about grace this morning. Grace…..so simple yet so profound. As if to explain the depth of God’s goodness, he descibes our divine gifts as “variegated”. Straight from the Holy Scripts in I Peter 4 he tells us that grace is free while at the same time as complex and multi- faceted as the variegated yarn that sits in my yarn basket.
And suddenly, my fingers are not tracing the tissue thin paper printed with ink there in the sanctuary, but instead they are wrapped in the tawny gold and brown yarn with hints of purple and blue from my yarn bowl. After The Mister and I eat Sunday dinner I will pick up that variegated yarn and knit on the socks that should be done by now but still lack a heel. I will let my needles click in a rhythm that matches The Mister’s light snoring. He claims to watch NASCAR all afternoon but we both know dinner has left him drowsy and like most every Sunday afternoon he will drift off to sleep.
This afternoon I will knit like I do most every other Sunday afternoon but today, I think of grace as I wrap the purplish-tan yarn around my fingers and suddenly my knitting becomes a picture and my socks become a picture of grace.
Grace for God’s daughter swirls around me and instead of stark bold beginnings and endings, it meshes and melds into every crevice of my life. It touches the crisis and unexplainable joys while at the same time it creeps into the mundane and ordinary. Grace does not call us forward to meet a unrealistic expectation, but instead it meets and matches us where we are, much like my variegated yarn that gradually changes colors so that it can encompass a wide swath of hues to create a new sock. See, the preacherman was right when he told us God’s grace was always abounding at all time in all situations.
And so on a sleepy Sunday afternoon, I pick up my needles and let them create a pair of socks for a dear friend. Knitting socks is not just a hobby this afternoon…..no,
today it is a picture of grace…..and what a waste it would be to sit and admire the muted colors of grace but never pick it up and let the beauty come alive.
And God whispers to me in the quiet of my living room and if I’m not listening for it I may even miss it over The Misters light snore. God whispers “Pick up grace Child. Pick it up and let Me use it to make it into a beautiful thing in your life. As much grace as you have been given is as much as I want you to lavish on the least of these.”
And I knit on……there is more being created than socks….today we create outlets of grace. Shades of love create a warm pattern of Him for us to share…..”Knit on child…”