I felt troubled as I started the trim for square # 173. It’s half black, half white, and I felt similarly divided, the proverbial angel and devil sitting comfortably on my shoulders. The creature in white was speaking words of peace: “Let it go, lay your rights down. Let Him fill you with sincere love.”
But as I switched to the black yarn, another, darker voice penetrated my thoughts. “Dwell on this,” it whispered. “Let it fester into a grudge; let bitterness be your balm.” I can’t deny that those prideful, negative, sinful attitudes are inside me, far too easily released.
But I picked up the white yarn again. I will choose to be humble; I will not be robbed of my peace. White wins.
Romans 7:21-23 “So I find this law at work: when I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within.”
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Listen Up
My hook pierced the square vigorously when I started, but my clenched hands lessened their attack as the frustration of the day seeped out of my fingers and into the yarn. After a full, demanding day of teaching classes, I was sick of kids not listening to me. The simplest command, such as “say whoa to your horse only once” was immediately followed by a chorus of multiple ones. The repetition of ignored instruction had worn my patience, and my voice, thin.
I’m a big advocate of listening. By it one says, “You’re the most important priority to me at this moment.” So instead of pouring out my grievances, requests, hopes, and even praises, I just listened to God while square #170 came into being. Sometimes I forget I’m in a two-way conversation. Granted, God doesn’t often speak in an audible voice, but He does speak. By listening, I’m glad to honor Him with my love and respect.
Psalm 78:1 “O my people, hear my teaching; listen to the words of my mouth.”
I’m a big advocate of listening. By it one says, “You’re the most important priority to me at this moment.” So instead of pouring out my grievances, requests, hopes, and even praises, I just listened to God while square #170 came into being. Sometimes I forget I’m in a two-way conversation. Granted, God doesn’t often speak in an audible voice, but He does speak. By listening, I’m glad to honor Him with my love and respect.
Psalm 78:1 “O my people, hear my teaching; listen to the words of my mouth.”
Saturday, May 22, 2010
His Infinite Variety
I crocheted outside again on a chilly but beautiful spring day. I dug through my remaining yarn for square #166, but lately I've been running out of ideas for color combinations. Have I done the blue, green, and pink already? I want to make every square different, but I can't remember what I've done, and with a dwindling collection of hues to choose from, my creativity is waning. I finally decided on a set of colors which, though frequently used, I arranged in an order which I hoped was distinct from past squares.
The colors started to form a square in my hands, and every once in a while I looked up, marveling at how beautiful the sky was. I wanted to just stare at it and lose myself in its expanse. After last night's storm, it was a crystalline blue layered with clouds, some of which lined up in symmetrical organization and shape; others were scattered randomly. Every day, morning, noon, and night, God paints an entirely new, unique canvas in the sky. Sure, He uses the same colors, but in His infinite variety, not one is exactly the same as another. Praise God that His creativity and beauty know no limits!
Psalm 19:1 "The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands."
The colors started to form a square in my hands, and every once in a while I looked up, marveling at how beautiful the sky was. I wanted to just stare at it and lose myself in its expanse. After last night's storm, it was a crystalline blue layered with clouds, some of which lined up in symmetrical organization and shape; others were scattered randomly. Every day, morning, noon, and night, God paints an entirely new, unique canvas in the sky. Sure, He uses the same colors, but in His infinite variety, not one is exactly the same as another. Praise God that His creativity and beauty know no limits!
Psalm 19:1 "The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands."
Monday, May 17, 2010
Written in the Weave
Spurgeon lies open on the bed before me, helping me to transition my mind from the work of the day to precious thoughts of God and the relaxing repetitiveness of square # 153. I’m quickly caught by Spurgeon’s closing verse of admonishment.
2 Corinthians 3:2-3 “You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by everybody. You show that you are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.”
A letter is a message. These days the majority of letters floating around are merely matters of business and communication. More precious (and increasingly rare) is the personal note, into which is poured all the affection and life of one to another. And though we think of letters in the literal sense, the message is not always one of pen and page.
My squares are my letters to God, my emotions, hopes, requests, and concerns all written into the weave. The letter grows longer as I add sentences day by day. These squares are also my letters to others, an afghan made to be read, a message of Christ to you who read this tablet.
2 Corinthians 3:2-3 “You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by everybody. You show that you are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.”
A letter is a message. These days the majority of letters floating around are merely matters of business and communication. More precious (and increasingly rare) is the personal note, into which is poured all the affection and life of one to another. And though we think of letters in the literal sense, the message is not always one of pen and page.
My squares are my letters to God, my emotions, hopes, requests, and concerns all written into the weave. The letter grows longer as I add sentences day by day. These squares are also my letters to others, an afghan made to be read, a message of Christ to you who read this tablet.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Child-Like
My crocheting didn't make an appearance until late tonight. I'd spent the evening revisiting my childhood and learning to play again while babysitting my boss's kids. After bedtime, I sat in the dim room and began to work. It wasn't long before the two oldest crept back, and I let them stay for a while. They were enthralled, hanging over my shoulder and watching me work, marveling at the speed at which my hook looped through the yarn. Laying some completed squares on the carpet, they chose their favorite ones and then delightedly picked through the colors for my next squares. I made one for each of them, praying for the loose teeth and upcoming birthday wishes. It was refreshing to pray for those innocent requests, and to be reminded that God cares for the least of these.
Matthew 18:3-4 "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."
Matthew 18:3-4 "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Heirloom
I went through an exhibit on the history of the Bible, from the Dead Sea scrolls to modern day, and my mind is full of it as I twist the next color over my hook. The display was filled with authentic artifacts, from fragments of ancient scrolls, to original Gutenberg pages, to first editions of the King James Bible, tracing a journey that succeeded against all odds. Against time, decay, martyrdom of its translators, and powerful rulers trying to limit its distribution, the Word of God prevailed. It gave me a new appreciation for the small Bible which now lies next to me so accessibly. Now, more than ever, I can say with David, “Your statutes are my heritage forever; they are the joy of my heart.” (Psalm 119:111). How I love His Word, delight in it, sing about it, remember it, and strive to keep it.
My great grandma’s afghans are well loved, but haven’t fared as well. Some still drape their warmth over furniture in the house, ragged with age, and one sits at the end of my bed awaiting mending. Maybe someday my afghan will be an heirloom to a great-grandchild, a reminder of past heritage. Though it may pass away, I pray that the prayers and faith within its yarns might endure to the next generations.
Isaiah 40:8 “The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God stands forever.”
My great grandma’s afghans are well loved, but haven’t fared as well. Some still drape their warmth over furniture in the house, ragged with age, and one sits at the end of my bed awaiting mending. Maybe someday my afghan will be an heirloom to a great-grandchild, a reminder of past heritage. Though it may pass away, I pray that the prayers and faith within its yarns might endure to the next generations.
Isaiah 40:8 “The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God stands forever.”
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Time Enough
I haven't picked up my crocheting in almost a week, and the days I've missed have put me woefully behind schedule. This afternoon I'm playing catch-up, trying to make up for lost time. Every evening this week, I got off work with the intention of working on my squares, and every evening, I just didn't feel like doing it. I was so tired from work, I either fell asleep prematurely or chose to veg on some mindless activity. I spent some time in prayer in the mornings, but the crocheting conversations went by the wayside.
Time is not so much a matter of hours and minutes as a matter of priorities, thus the well worn excuse of, “I don’t have enough time,” loses its validity, exposed for the shallow deceit it is. In the midst of a busy life, it's easy to put time with God aside, to fit Him in only when it's convenient. Yet a relationship with Him ought not to be based on emotions, which are fickle, but on truth and commitment. In these I’ve discovered that it is the eternal which gives meaning to the temporal, and that my future hope governs the priorities of my present reality. Any priority that supersedes God is misplaced.
Time is not a limitation; it is a decision. Although this week may have highlighted my failures in that regard, as always, I strive to put Him first, as He should be.
Jeremiah 30:21b "I will bring him near and he will come close to me, for who is he who will devote himself to be close to me?"
Time is not so much a matter of hours and minutes as a matter of priorities, thus the well worn excuse of, “I don’t have enough time,” loses its validity, exposed for the shallow deceit it is. In the midst of a busy life, it's easy to put time with God aside, to fit Him in only when it's convenient. Yet a relationship with Him ought not to be based on emotions, which are fickle, but on truth and commitment. In these I’ve discovered that it is the eternal which gives meaning to the temporal, and that my future hope governs the priorities of my present reality. Any priority that supersedes God is misplaced.
Time is not a limitation; it is a decision. Although this week may have highlighted my failures in that regard, as always, I strive to put Him first, as He should be.
Jeremiah 30:21b "I will bring him near and he will come close to me, for who is he who will devote himself to be close to me?"
Monday, May 3, 2010
Patchwork of People
My yarn was my sole companion during the ten hour round trip train ride I took this weekend. Holed up in my corner seat, I worked on my squares while enjoying my people-watching pastime. A tired and irate mom tried to contain her son at the table in front of me, while across from her, an old man endured it patiently. Behind him, a student put in her headphones and drowned out the world. A middle aged woman sat across the aisle perusing a glamour magazine. I was sitting next to the door, a noisy spot I endure for the variety of people that pass through it. So many are lost, yet every one loved by God.
My squares are full of prayers for people - mostly my friends and family, but also a few strangers. Some friends have asked me to pray for specific requests, but most of them have just been laid on my heart at one point or another. If they are around, I have them pick out the colors for "their" square. Jesus made it very clear that loving people was His priority, that their salvation was His purpose. He came not for a cause, but for a kingdom in the hearts of men. What Christ valued, I must too.
As I pray for the people in my life, for their needs and praises, I find I'm learning more about loving people like Jesus did.
1 Thessalonians 3:12 "May the Lord make your love increase and overflow for each other and for everyone else, just as ours [Paul and Timothy's] does for you."
My squares are full of prayers for people - mostly my friends and family, but also a few strangers. Some friends have asked me to pray for specific requests, but most of them have just been laid on my heart at one point or another. If they are around, I have them pick out the colors for "their" square. Jesus made it very clear that loving people was His priority, that their salvation was His purpose. He came not for a cause, but for a kingdom in the hearts of men. What Christ valued, I must too.
As I pray for the people in my life, for their needs and praises, I find I'm learning more about loving people like Jesus did.
1 Thessalonians 3:12 "May the Lord make your love increase and overflow for each other and for everyone else, just as ours [Paul and Timothy's] does for you."
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)