Shannon: Here We Are

I have to say I'm startled to call myself a knitter. That's because knitting always seemed, to me, to be something you did in your "winter years." I never pictured myself haunting yarn shops and fingering wools and worsteds and furry balls of possibilities. Had you told me that the day would come when I'd rather knit than eat; when I'd hanker after an expensive set of bamboo needles; when I'd happily spend an hour browsing and deciphering patterns--even those for dishcloths--I would have laughed.

But I'm not laughing now. I'm just knitting.

I like to set myself up with all my favorite companions--a well-stocked woodstove, a lit candle or two, an instrumental or classical CD, and a cup of herbal tea--and knit for a stolen hour. I say "stolen" because there are always five or fifteen "do me's" tugging at my sleeve, but I've developed a knack for ignoring those voices. My daughter, Tera, would call that "skillage." Yes. I'm mighty skillaged at stealing time to knit.

I like that millions of women before me, throughout the centuries and in every corner of the world, have shared my passion. I like knowing that despite the slight variances in style and preference, we've all held those sticks in virtually the same way, all cast on our chosen yarn in virtually the same fashion. And I love knowing that despite the differences in time and place, in life experience and family and viewpoints, we've all felt the exact same thrill when we look down at the work in our hands and find a pattern emerging between those two needles.

I thought it might be nice to have a place to share our little knitting victories. I've asked a few of my knitting friends from church to join me. Come back soon and you'll probably get an eyeful of our works-in-progress.

Until then, read this little description of another woman, from another time and place, who knew the joy of working with her hands:

She finds wool and flax and busily spins it.
She is like a merchant's ship; she brings her food from afar.
She gets up before dawn to prepare breakfast for her household
and plan the day's work for her servant girls.
She goes out to inspect a field and buys it;
with her earnings she plants a vineyard.
She is energetic and strong, a hard worker.
She watches for bargains; her lights burn late into the night.
Her hands are busy spinning thread, her fingers twisting fiber.
She extends a helping hand to the poor and opens her arms to the needy.
She has no fear of winter for her household
because all of them have warm clothes.
She quilts her own bedspreads.
She dresses like royalty in gowns of finest cloth ...
She makes belted linen garments and sashes to sell to the merchants.
She is clothed with strength and dignity,
and she laughs with no fear of the future.

--Prov 31:10-25 (NLT)