Hello October {Yarnalong}


I’m not at all sure where September went but it is gone and well, hello October! I haven’t done much knitting, but I have managed to turn the heels on both socks (the never-ending socks) and am maybe half-way done with a wee doll I started on a whim. I’ve taken a break from this pattern for now, but will return soon I think. Neither the socks nor the doll has a pattern to link to- I am just knitting them up and making adjustments as I go. Like I prefer to live life.

Let me step away and laugh out loud at that statement.

I think I’ve always loved the idea of living free and unhindered and relaxed and maybe even with flowers in my hair. But as much as I admire a good hippie, like a real one with greasy hair and body-odor (for real though- I do admire them but maybe that is another post) I can’t ever really be one. Or not today I can’t. My personality and my need for some kind of order or control keep me unable to commit to a life of hippiedom.

You see, I am a creative soul- there is no doubt. I may be a 4 on the enneagram (idk, I’m still trying to suss that all out) I write, I sing, I love the dirt in my fingernails after a morning in the garden. I can day-dream like a boss. I enjoy with a joy so deep and moving the making-of- things with my hands that it makes me tear up right now as I type but- my chaotic beginnings and all- that mess (hand sweep at my visualized past) made me cautious and afraid and my reaction to all that chaos and fear was to try with all my might to control and keep all here, gathered around me, within reaching distance to my safest spot found, everything that I could keep close and or hide behind.

In essence, my soul was created to be creative and needs the freedom and the courage to create and flourish like wildflowers in fields without borders but my wounds needed me to live in a small, quiet, be very afraid, draw-no-attention (but oh so needy of attention) box of barely existing survival.

The years of healing, of care and relationship with others and counseling, seeking personal growth and just being a disciple of Jesus have brought me to a life lived freer and full of courage. Most of the time. Okay- some of the time.

I do still struggle with all that need for control and order and fear, sorry God. It’s ok- He knows me, I know it. He loves me out of this mess that I am still. Everyday. I just know it. He is faithful to complete the good work He started here…

I love to knit free-style, now that I really know how to knit and understand the fundamentals of knitting I can just wing it. But I remember trying to just “see what I could make” (before really knowing what I was doing) and ending up with a strange washcloth or baby blanket for our kid’s teddy bear. And as my heart yearned so to be open and free and creative and unhindered by rules and regulations, I had to learn the fundamentals of my craft. The fundamentals give me a sturdy place to stand while I let my creative juices fly.

fun·da·men·tal

ˌfəndəˈmen(t)əl/

adjective

1.
forming a necessary base or core; of central importance.

I love a good pattern. Give me a nice big knitting chart that I have to follow or a well-written pattern that I must follow line by line and I am down for some knitting fun. I enjoy following the tiny perfectly square squares and all that precise work that will create something beautiful, I do. But I didn’t always love it.

I hated it. It frustrated me. I grunted and fussed and pouted my way through my first (I don’t even know how many) patterns. I knitted and made mistakes and took back the work and started again and pushed through for as long as the learning took and then when I completed the work I had learned something new.

Let’s see if this translates. I hope that you can hear what my heart is screaming!

Three things:

1. The discomfort that I felt in the learning widened my window of tolerance for discomfort, it grew my patience and strengthened my ability to learn something new.

• Discomfort does not always mean we should stop what we’re doing. Sometimes in the “keeping on” the discomfort there produces a kind of stretching- a deeper truer growth.

2. The pattern that felt so very confining to my creative soul taught my soul the discipline it needed to really be creative. It gave me wings.

• Don’t fight the rules. Don’t balk at the fundamentals. To love God with everything and love your neighbor as yourself = the pattern. There is unimaginable freedom in the confines of loving like Jesus.

3. No matter how many times I had to start over, I never quit. Finishing the hard thing(s) teaches tenacity. It gave me the satisfaction of learning, of conquering and of succeeding which in turn rewarded my tenacity.

• Make adjustments and try again. There are new mercies for us every morning. Every. Morning. Starting again (and choosing love and forgiveness again and again) strengthens our muscles of humility, of mercy, of Jesus-kinda-love and of resilience. That makes us stronger, not weaker.

I draw parallels here between learning a self-discipline like knitting and becoming more who you were created to be. I don’t know how that happened exactly. It wasn’t the plan when I sat down to tell you what I was knitting and reading for this month’s #yarnalong post. This is where my heart is lately, I suppose. Everywhere I look this is the lesson or the theme or the word.

I am reading This book. It hurts a bit to read because it resonates with me. There is a ton of wisdom in these pages though and I’d recommend it to all moms, not just adoptive ones.

I am still listening to this book. I’d recommend it to all parents. You really can’t go wrong with any of either of its author’s works.

I’m joining Ginny over at her link up. If you like books or fiber art of any kind you might head over and have a look-see. That’s it for me folks, peace out.

wait

in the line to pick up kids after school
cars moving slowly
seventeen drivers not letting me in
kids on benches and beneath the trees wait
i feel my insides stir and boil

in the check out aisle at the grocery store
slow beeps and long conversations
for the child to find her way to peace when she is upset and on the verge of meltdown
for the child to find the strength to go and look for the shoe that keeps us from leaving the house on time
my impatience does flips inside me

for the man to make the decision that i am biting at the bit to have settled
for the details of the new thing to be laid out on paper and solidly in place
for the winds to lift and turn and flip all my plans upside down
for the peace that i have chosen to be felt
i search for determination somewhere deep

waiting is hard
sometimes it is just life
sometimes it feels like too much
every time it is uncomfortable
i scream for help with my unbelief

more room for patience being made in my small places
i am pushed out on all sides
my capacity to leap stretching into new places
my ability to believe pulled further than it has yet been
grace growing in small hands

waiting is hard but Father is faithful
where i lack, He lacks not at all
my plan is good but His is better
i cling to Him
His right hand upholds me