A Gift From the Hands

It is my firm belief that a gift from the hands is a gift from the heart. Creating an object for another is an outpouring of love for that person. When I spend hours upon hours looping yarn around smooth bamboo needles or a cold, aluminum hook, I don’t do it because I hope the creation will be the most beautiful of its kind. I do it because I have a person in mind–someone I believe will recieve said creation with warmth and understanding, maybe excitement, or just a genuine happiness.

I do it because every minute I spend tinking back three rounds of stitching that wasn’t quite right in order to make it so, and every second I spend contemplating patterns and colors and fiber types, and every day that goes by when I can spend time with my feet propped tinkering away at this little creation, is a minute, a second, a day with that one person in my thoughts.

When I knit or crochet for another, I consider that specific person for many hours over the course of days, weeks, or even months. I think of their need for the gift or how they might use it. I think of how the color suits them just so or how the pattern is just right for that person. I smile when I imagine their smile.

And I do it because I love them. I sincerely, honest-to-goodness love them. I love them enough to spend all that time working all those stitches just for that moment when they smile at me and are happy and satisfied.

As I’m knitting Cassie’s socks, I am realizing that I love her. She is my best friend next to God and Nate, and if she were suddenly gone somehow, I would grieve for Who knows how long. And the same is true for my mother as I crocheted that huge blanket for her. And my mother-in-law as I knit that seemingly endless afghan only to turn around and knit a seemingly endless pillow to match it.

And I’m sure the same will be true when I begin Nate’s socks. I suppose this is one reason I don’t knit much for myself. It’s not very fun to ponder yourself for hours on end (at least, I don’t think so!), and I already know my reaction to the creation.

Ultimately, regardless of the recipient or the item I’m agonizing over, crafting always makes me think of God. He is responsible for the ultimate Creation. He not only makes the yarn possible, but He forms wool on the back of the sheep, the grass that feeds the sheep, and He made the light that grows the grass!

I look down at my lap.

A single completed sock. Hours of work. Tedious work with small needles and thin yarn.

Work full of flaws, I am sure.

I think of Him.

And I am in awe.


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