I have started knitting a prayer shawl, the first in several years. My beginning prayer is for many, because I don’t know who will receive the completed shawl. That doesn’t matter; God doesn’t care.
I cast on stitches for my ninety-two year old cousin who just had heart surgery, for a friend’s wife undergoing chemo, for a church member recently widowed, for a fourteen year old boy with a rare brain tumor. I count the stitches and need ten more, so on I cast, praying that the nasty political rhetoric will cease. “How long, Lord, how long? I pray.” I knit, I pray, I knit.
I will knit, and pray, and knit for a very long time.
I cast on stitches for my ninety-two year old cousin who just had heart surgery, for a friend’s wife undergoing chemo, for a church member recently widowed, for a fourteen year old boy with a rare brain tumor. I count the stitches and need ten more, so on I cast, praying that the nasty political rhetoric will cease. “How long, Lord, how long? I pray.” I knit, I pray, I knit.
I will knit, and pray, and knit for a very long time.
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