Brava for making an effort to learn to knit! I was 5 when my mother taught me how to knit... my gauge was so tight she had to use a razor blade to remove the yarn from the needles. (I am 71 now. My gauge is still tight, but not THAT tight.) Do what you do well, Cameron. Bless you for sharing your gifts with us!
This made me smile. My grandson. 9 years old, has taken up knitting. It is calming for him! I read him portions of your devotional, Cameron. He smiled and said it is calming for him and that’s why he likes it. ❤️
Your post reminded me of a reflection in my “Timeless Truths for Troubled Times” devotional book. Referring to Eccl. 3: 1-4 (“To everything there is a season …), I wrote:
“These words help us picture the larger tapestry of our lives when we are seeing only a particular thread we don’t like. They give us courage to keep moving forward, as hard as it is sometimes, and to trust that whatever is happening now, our current season of life is temporary. Just as the barrenness of winter always gives away to the new life of spring, our troubled times always give way to new possibilities.”
Your words also encourage me to keep moving forward when it’s hard, and to focus on what I/we can build up as things break down. I especially appreciate your beautiful prayers!
As a knitter and a pastor who did my Dmin dissertation on knitting in the lives of contemporary Mennonite women, I resonate deeply with this post! These days do seem to call forth SOMETHING that allows us to CREATE as a kind of antidote to the destruction all around us. Thank YOU, Cameron, for creating daily through your words, thoughts, and imagination! Be well. And don't fret over those dropped stitches!
My neighbour’s daughter wanted to learn how to knit when she was 7. I gave her green yarn and showed her how - which is different from the way her mother (Lebanese) knits! She made a short piece which I joined into a green heart - which I still keep. (She is now 16, going to high school.)
I don’t knit very often any more. When I make straight pieces, I can meditate. Following an intricate pattern demands my attention.
A member of my congregation's fiber arts group shared this before we met on tuesday and I wrote the newsletter note for our weekly community newsletter in response:
"knitting and pottery making and the life of faith
Prior to our Fiber Arts meetup on Tuesday, a member of the group sent me the blog post Holy Knots and Dropped Stitches by Rev. Cameron Trimble, which is a lovely reflection on trying and failing to learn to knit, and how that might be a bit like the work of justice. It was sent to the fiber arts (knit, crochet, stitch) group for obvious reasons, but it might be a nice read for everyone.
As I read the post, I realized I am having a similar experience right now. I have knitted since I was 12, learned to sew and cross stitch at 14, and to crochet at 24, so I have not, in a long time, had the experience of those things in life that require, as she says in the post, "patience. Precision. Repetition. An ability to stick with it even when you want to cry or throw things" things like fiber arts for a beginner or justice work for all of us. No, my beginner activity is taking pottery throwing lessons. I just finished my first eight-week series of lessons. I have made a bunch of pots, all of them a bit lumpy, but going in, I had no idea if I could. The truth is, with knitting, with pottery making, and with justice work, it is possible to fail and to fail catastrophically at every turn. The goal is to make something beautiful- a blanket or hat, a pot for someone to use, or a just world where people can live the lives they are meant to and be connected to community that will love them for who they are. But often the work is long, hard, and there isn't always any kind of reward or sense that one has accomplished much. And then there are days when something happens that is beautiful, that is useful, that connects people; when the bowl comes out of the kiln and it is lovely and useful, when the sweater is done and keeps someone warm, when one more person has seen the truth that others are their equal and done something to make the world a better place.
When those days come, that is when we know what hope is for, and where it comes from. Hope is not something that comes naturally all the time. Hope sometimes looks from the outside like blind optimism in the face of the shards of what could have been, the dropped stitches where we should have done better, where people find things to fight about instead of to connect about. Those are the moments when hope steps in and reminds us of the last bowl we finished, the last hat we gave to someone we love, the last time justice was made manifest, even in the smallest way. Hope takes practice, and it takes ugly practice in times when things don't go the way we want them to.
Many of us have felt this week like we reached a moment of hope. The election on Tuesday went overwhelmingly the way many of us in the (church name) family hoped it would go, but we were not sure it could. I talked to many people at Good Neighbor Coffee and at the Prayer study on Wednesday, and everyone seemed to feel a sense of relief and renewed hope. That hope comes not from being unclear about what is possible, but from being sure that justice and patience mean that anything is possible when work is done together. There is so much more work to do in the world- more blankets to crochet, mugs to throw and fire, and so much more justice to seek. So as Rev. Trimble says in her post "It's a spiritual practice to create something slow and steady in a world that thrives on speed and spectacle...But all of it—when rooted in love—is an act of sacred defiance." and defiance to the worlds injustice or our own sense of failure is an act of faith.
Brava for making an effort to learn to knit! I was 5 when my mother taught me how to knit... my gauge was so tight she had to use a razor blade to remove the yarn from the needles. (I am 71 now. My gauge is still tight, but not THAT tight.) Do what you do well, Cameron. Bless you for sharing your gifts with us!
This made me smile. My grandson. 9 years old, has taken up knitting. It is calming for him! I read him portions of your devotional, Cameron. He smiled and said it is calming for him and that’s why he likes it. ❤️
Your post reminded me of a reflection in my “Timeless Truths for Troubled Times” devotional book. Referring to Eccl. 3: 1-4 (“To everything there is a season …), I wrote:
“These words help us picture the larger tapestry of our lives when we are seeing only a particular thread we don’t like. They give us courage to keep moving forward, as hard as it is sometimes, and to trust that whatever is happening now, our current season of life is temporary. Just as the barrenness of winter always gives away to the new life of spring, our troubled times always give way to new possibilities.”
Your words also encourage me to keep moving forward when it’s hard, and to focus on what I/we can build up as things break down. I especially appreciate your beautiful prayers!
I can knit but it is not a meditative state. But I loe to crochet and made numerous afghans. maybe try that?
Thank you for another uplifting piece.
As a knitter and a pastor who did my Dmin dissertation on knitting in the lives of contemporary Mennonite women, I resonate deeply with this post! These days do seem to call forth SOMETHING that allows us to CREATE as a kind of antidote to the destruction all around us. Thank YOU, Cameron, for creating daily through your words, thoughts, and imagination! Be well. And don't fret over those dropped stitches!
❤️
Haha! love this one, Cameron!
My neighbour’s daughter wanted to learn how to knit when she was 7. I gave her green yarn and showed her how - which is different from the way her mother (Lebanese) knits! She made a short piece which I joined into a green heart - which I still keep. (She is now 16, going to high school.)
I don’t knit very often any more. When I make straight pieces, I can meditate. Following an intricate pattern demands my attention.
Thank you for your musings …
Joan, whose mother was a knitter, loved this enough to share it with Laura! She loved it too, as did I! Thank you!
A member of my congregation's fiber arts group shared this before we met on tuesday and I wrote the newsletter note for our weekly community newsletter in response:
"knitting and pottery making and the life of faith
Prior to our Fiber Arts meetup on Tuesday, a member of the group sent me the blog post Holy Knots and Dropped Stitches by Rev. Cameron Trimble, which is a lovely reflection on trying and failing to learn to knit, and how that might be a bit like the work of justice. It was sent to the fiber arts (knit, crochet, stitch) group for obvious reasons, but it might be a nice read for everyone.
As I read the post, I realized I am having a similar experience right now. I have knitted since I was 12, learned to sew and cross stitch at 14, and to crochet at 24, so I have not, in a long time, had the experience of those things in life that require, as she says in the post, "patience. Precision. Repetition. An ability to stick with it even when you want to cry or throw things" things like fiber arts for a beginner or justice work for all of us. No, my beginner activity is taking pottery throwing lessons. I just finished my first eight-week series of lessons. I have made a bunch of pots, all of them a bit lumpy, but going in, I had no idea if I could. The truth is, with knitting, with pottery making, and with justice work, it is possible to fail and to fail catastrophically at every turn. The goal is to make something beautiful- a blanket or hat, a pot for someone to use, or a just world where people can live the lives they are meant to and be connected to community that will love them for who they are. But often the work is long, hard, and there isn't always any kind of reward or sense that one has accomplished much. And then there are days when something happens that is beautiful, that is useful, that connects people; when the bowl comes out of the kiln and it is lovely and useful, when the sweater is done and keeps someone warm, when one more person has seen the truth that others are their equal and done something to make the world a better place.
When those days come, that is when we know what hope is for, and where it comes from. Hope is not something that comes naturally all the time. Hope sometimes looks from the outside like blind optimism in the face of the shards of what could have been, the dropped stitches where we should have done better, where people find things to fight about instead of to connect about. Those are the moments when hope steps in and reminds us of the last bowl we finished, the last hat we gave to someone we love, the last time justice was made manifest, even in the smallest way. Hope takes practice, and it takes ugly practice in times when things don't go the way we want them to.
Many of us have felt this week like we reached a moment of hope. The election on Tuesday went overwhelmingly the way many of us in the (church name) family hoped it would go, but we were not sure it could. I talked to many people at Good Neighbor Coffee and at the Prayer study on Wednesday, and everyone seemed to feel a sense of relief and renewed hope. That hope comes not from being unclear about what is possible, but from being sure that justice and patience mean that anything is possible when work is done together. There is so much more work to do in the world- more blankets to crochet, mugs to throw and fire, and so much more justice to seek. So as Rev. Trimble says in her post "It's a spiritual practice to create something slow and steady in a world that thrives on speed and spectacle...But all of it—when rooted in love—is an act of sacred defiance." and defiance to the worlds injustice or our own sense of failure is an act of faith.
So be faithful, friends.
Pastor Jessica
Dear Rev. Cameron, I enjoy your creative writing. You are able to touch many hearts and they
will look for your writings again because of your gentleness. I am relatively new to the books of
Matthew Fox and Bishop Spong, so I try to add other writers for more information and ideas.
Bless you - Donna