The Blessed Quarantine - Knitting, napping and a broken chair
A couple of years ago I taught myself to knit. Just for the record, it's not as impressive as it sounds. YouTube has some fantastic tutorials available. All I did was buy some needles, found some yarn I had and watch a couple of tutorials. It took me about a year but in November I gave my sister-in-law a scarf that I knitted. I didn't really start working on anything else because I didn't really know what I wanted to make. I like the idea of having a hobby like knitting. I even really like knitting, but once I finished the scarf I just kind of let it drop off my radar. Then I set my potholder on fire (don't ask) and needed new ones. Have you bought a potholder lately? Those things are expensive and I am a bit of a cheap skate about some things. So I decided I was going to knit some potholders. I did my research about what kind of stitch to use and what kind of yarn to use and I set out to knit potholders. Easy enough, I made a scarf after all and this was just a small square. Yep, not as easy I thought. The recommendations that I found are to use natural yarns, which makes perfect sense because I don't want my potholders to melt to my hand when I use them, but no one told me that cotton yarn is slippery. It was a royal pain in the tush and since most of my knitting attempts were after all the evening chores were done, I often just didn't pick it up.
Enter social distancing. Enter the Blessed Quarantine. One afternoon I was over it, I had tele-taught, teleconferenced and answered/read what seemed like 30 emails about what I was expected to do during this and I just closed my computer and walked away from my desk. I was sitting in my rocking chair (someday I'll write about the red rocking chair - it's a great story) and my bag that holds my knitting supplies was hanging on the arm of the chair. A bag given to me by a sweet young lady that I know because I had the honor of teaching her brother many years ago. Without even really thinking I pulled the barely started potholder out and almost as a challenge to my own sanity began to knit and pearl my way through the afternoon. It's still not easy, but I am making progress which is really cool. There is also a good chance it's going to be a washcloth instead of a potholder, but that's another story.
My sister-in-law who was the recipient of the scarf I finished in November has been in my life since I was 10. She and my brother are high school sweethearts and quite honestly, I thank God for her. She knows me very well. We "talk" regularly. Sometimes just with a serious of what would seem like completely random GIFs and memes, but they always have meaning for us. So during one of our many chats in the last week, she asked me if I was ok. It wasn't the usual, "hey, how you doing?" it was one of those "you're not sharing something, talk to me - are you ok?" It was a moment that offered me permission to be ok and permission to be not ok all at the same time. It reminded me that even when I'm not ok, I'm not alone. Even when I'm in my house, slowly trying to learn to let go, I'm ok. She and I chatted for a bit longer, she confirmed that my family really does know that I'm a control freak and that this letting go is hard but that I can do it. While we were chatting, I stepped out on the back porch and our camping hammock caught my eye. It's been hanging between two trees in our backyard for probably a year and I've used it once, maybe twice. That day it seemed like the perfect place to spend some time. I mentioned that I was thinking about napping in it to my SIL and her answer "Sounds like an excellent an idea. Enjoy". I enjoyed alright. I climbed out of that sweet escape pod after an hour of drifting in and out of sleep with the sun warming my face and the breeze rocking me comfortably. It was truly the best nap I've had in a really long time.
Many of the moments that have presented themselves this week haven't been appreciated until later. The knitting and the napping are both examples of this. I didn't really understand how much I needed those moments until a couple of hours, or even days later. However, other moments present themselves and I have immediately recognized the value of the moment, or at least my response to the moment. The broken chair was one of those moments. We have a high top table and bar stool high chairs because of it. So, often when someone sits in one of the chairs, they put their feet on the cross bar. C, my 13 year old female offspring, was doing her school work at the dining room table. She had her feet on the cross bar of her chair. I was in the living room, doing something, and all of the sudden I hear "Uh oh...ummmm, Mom". Well, every mom on the planet knows that's not good. I didn't even walk towards the kitchen, I just said "what happened?" "The chair broke." Normally, all my "are you kidding me!?" would have kicked in, but not that day. That day I just asked if she was ok. I just paused and thought about the fact that the chairs are 14 years old and that's a long time to use moderately well made furniture. I thought about the fact that there are more chairs and this isn't that big of a deal. C wasn't doing anything ridiculous, she was sitting in the chair the same way everyone sits in the chair. I breathed, I let go of the control, I let her be ok. Just like my SIL gave me permission to be ok.
We are going to be ok. We don't know what we are doing or how to do this thing we are doing right now but we do know that it's going to be ok. We know that being still and quiet leaves space for God to fill in the blanks. We know that knitting, naps and broken chairs are not going to define us forever, but right now, they are tools for learning to be ok. God will make it ok. That doesn't mean it will turn out exactly the way we want it to. It means that He can use anything to help us be ok, if we let Him.
Enter social distancing. Enter the Blessed Quarantine. One afternoon I was over it, I had tele-taught, teleconferenced and answered/read what seemed like 30 emails about what I was expected to do during this and I just closed my computer and walked away from my desk. I was sitting in my rocking chair (someday I'll write about the red rocking chair - it's a great story) and my bag that holds my knitting supplies was hanging on the arm of the chair. A bag given to me by a sweet young lady that I know because I had the honor of teaching her brother many years ago. Without even really thinking I pulled the barely started potholder out and almost as a challenge to my own sanity began to knit and pearl my way through the afternoon. It's still not easy, but I am making progress which is really cool. There is also a good chance it's going to be a washcloth instead of a potholder, but that's another story.
My sister-in-law who was the recipient of the scarf I finished in November has been in my life since I was 10. She and my brother are high school sweethearts and quite honestly, I thank God for her. She knows me very well. We "talk" regularly. Sometimes just with a serious of what would seem like completely random GIFs and memes, but they always have meaning for us. So during one of our many chats in the last week, she asked me if I was ok. It wasn't the usual, "hey, how you doing?" it was one of those "you're not sharing something, talk to me - are you ok?" It was a moment that offered me permission to be ok and permission to be not ok all at the same time. It reminded me that even when I'm not ok, I'm not alone. Even when I'm in my house, slowly trying to learn to let go, I'm ok. She and I chatted for a bit longer, she confirmed that my family really does know that I'm a control freak and that this letting go is hard but that I can do it. While we were chatting, I stepped out on the back porch and our camping hammock caught my eye. It's been hanging between two trees in our backyard for probably a year and I've used it once, maybe twice. That day it seemed like the perfect place to spend some time. I mentioned that I was thinking about napping in it to my SIL and her answer "Sounds like an excellent an idea. Enjoy". I enjoyed alright. I climbed out of that sweet escape pod after an hour of drifting in and out of sleep with the sun warming my face and the breeze rocking me comfortably. It was truly the best nap I've had in a really long time.
Many of the moments that have presented themselves this week haven't been appreciated until later. The knitting and the napping are both examples of this. I didn't really understand how much I needed those moments until a couple of hours, or even days later. However, other moments present themselves and I have immediately recognized the value of the moment, or at least my response to the moment. The broken chair was one of those moments. We have a high top table and bar stool high chairs because of it. So, often when someone sits in one of the chairs, they put their feet on the cross bar. C, my 13 year old female offspring, was doing her school work at the dining room table. She had her feet on the cross bar of her chair. I was in the living room, doing something, and all of the sudden I hear "Uh oh...ummmm, Mom". Well, every mom on the planet knows that's not good. I didn't even walk towards the kitchen, I just said "what happened?" "The chair broke." Normally, all my "are you kidding me!?" would have kicked in, but not that day. That day I just asked if she was ok. I just paused and thought about the fact that the chairs are 14 years old and that's a long time to use moderately well made furniture. I thought about the fact that there are more chairs and this isn't that big of a deal. C wasn't doing anything ridiculous, she was sitting in the chair the same way everyone sits in the chair. I breathed, I let go of the control, I let her be ok. Just like my SIL gave me permission to be ok.
We are going to be ok. We don't know what we are doing or how to do this thing we are doing right now but we do know that it's going to be ok. We know that being still and quiet leaves space for God to fill in the blanks. We know that knitting, naps and broken chairs are not going to define us forever, but right now, they are tools for learning to be ok. God will make it ok. That doesn't mean it will turn out exactly the way we want it to. It means that He can use anything to help us be ok, if we let Him.
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