When You Pray, Move Your Feet
My friend is hurting. In many ways her pain is the worst kind a woman can endure. She’s been told that while she feels fine, something is wrong. It may keep her and her husband from achieving the dream they’ve held for years - parenthood.
So I pray. Hard. I beg that they may beat the odds and succeed. I join many who pray for this miracle. Years later, it’s on the cusp of actually happening.
But now, she’s bleeding. The doctors tell her everything is okay, yet that familiar sense of dread is beginning to creep into her mind. She's been through this before more than once; she’s terrified of her own body and it’s betrayal. What’s worse, her husband is overseas for the next few weeks. Her nearest family is hours away.
My friend is hurting. And while we keep praying, words feel worthless. I want to be there. Yet I’m hours away, with no way to reach her.
Knit something.
The thought comes so quickly I first dismiss it. What on earth could knitting possibly do to help?
Knit something.
The words come again. I run through options. My mind thinks something big and snuggly that feels safe. I want something warm and sturdy. Nothing fragile; I want something to make her feel stronger. Something to wrap around herself to stand as a barrier between her and whatever is in the days ahead.
My eyes fall on the bag of yarn I bought nearly a year ago. It was - and still is - my favorite type of yarn, so despite then not knowing what it was for I’d bought all the store had in stock. I pull the bag over and find inside skeins of blue wool. Later I learn that adding blue in your life is said to bring peace to counteract chaos. Light blue symbolizes health, healing, and trust.
I will trust. Trust in the doctors, and that everything will be okay. Trust that my friend may have peace and healing. Trust that her little one will grow strong, and that one day this blanket will be wrapped around her, too. I trust, and I knit.
A blanket. A prayer not of words, but of stitches.
I know that when your friend is hurting, scared and far away, knitting can do very little to care for them. Yet since knitting some big blue blanket and sending it to her is all I can do, I sincerely hope it helps.
Months later when I receive a picture from my friend of her little girl wrapped in that blanket, I begin to think that maybe in some small way it did.
written for therealljidol 8.1 "When You Pray, Move Your Feet"
Final picture is property of my friend and her family.
So I pray. Hard. I beg that they may beat the odds and succeed. I join many who pray for this miracle. Years later, it’s on the cusp of actually happening.
But now, she’s bleeding. The doctors tell her everything is okay, yet that familiar sense of dread is beginning to creep into her mind. She's been through this before more than once; she’s terrified of her own body and it’s betrayal. What’s worse, her husband is overseas for the next few weeks. Her nearest family is hours away.
My friend is hurting. And while we keep praying, words feel worthless. I want to be there. Yet I’m hours away, with no way to reach her.
Knit something.
The thought comes so quickly I first dismiss it. What on earth could knitting possibly do to help?
Knit something.
The words come again. I run through options. My mind thinks something big and snuggly that feels safe. I want something warm and sturdy. Nothing fragile; I want something to make her feel stronger. Something to wrap around herself to stand as a barrier between her and whatever is in the days ahead.
My eyes fall on the bag of yarn I bought nearly a year ago. It was - and still is - my favorite type of yarn, so despite then not knowing what it was for I’d bought all the store had in stock. I pull the bag over and find inside skeins of blue wool. Later I learn that adding blue in your life is said to bring peace to counteract chaos. Light blue symbolizes health, healing, and trust.
I will trust. Trust in the doctors, and that everything will be okay. Trust that my friend may have peace and healing. Trust that her little one will grow strong, and that one day this blanket will be wrapped around her, too. I trust, and I knit.
A blanket. A prayer not of words, but of stitches.
I know that when your friend is hurting, scared and far away, knitting can do very little to care for them. Yet since knitting some big blue blanket and sending it to her is all I can do, I sincerely hope it helps.
Months later when I receive a picture from my friend of her little girl wrapped in that blanket, I begin to think that maybe in some small way it did.
written for therealljidol 8.1 "When You Pray, Move Your Feet"
Final picture is property of my friend and her family.