I’ve learned a great deal since I began knitting and crocheting prayer shawls—things one would expect, like new stitches, how to knit on circular needles, which craft stores accept coupons from other stores. What I didn’t expect was for prayer shawl making to become a means for God to speak to me—about His heart and about the state of mine. The lessons I have learned so far are powerful and priceless.
One of the most important things I’ve learned while making prayer shawls is about timing. My husband and I have a saying which helps us stay steady in times of uncertainty: “God is never late and He’s not all that interested in being early.” I have found this to be especially true regarding the gift of a prayer shawl. Take, for example, the one my mother-in-law, Esther Luben asked me to make for her. True to form, she had a vision for what she wanted. She wanted it knit in Trinity stitch (knit 3, purl 3, ending each row with a knit 3) and handed me a paint chip with the exact color she wanted it to be. Easy, right? I’ll get on it right away, Mama, and have it done in a jiffy. God, however, had other plans.
I carried that paint chip around in my purse and pulled it out every time I visited craft store yarn departments. For months, the only yarn that came close to matching the color was a thick cotton that wouldn’t make for a cozy, comforting shawl. Then one fateful afternoon, I cruised by the clearance section at the local Hobby Lobby. There, on clearance, no less, were three skeins of yarn that matched the paint chip exactly. Hallelujah!
Yarn in hand, I felt a sudden urgency to make the shawl right away, not because I’d promised my mother-in-law I would do it or even because I was excited about starting a new project. I had a gut feeling that I needed to get it done soon. As a result, the finished shawl arrived to wrap my mother-in-law in love and prayer a few weeks before the death of her only sister, her last surviving sibling. I found the right yarn at the right time, a time that only God could know.
I learned my most powerful lesson in trusting God’s timing from making a shawl for my college roommate, Gale. I learned through mutual friends that her husband had left her. Our friends recommended I not call at that time, as she was worn out from talking about it to all the people who had questions about what had happened. I sent a praying-for-you card and then I went to buy yarn. I knew exactly what yarn I wanted to make her shawl from—Caron Simply Soft has a blue that matches her eyes. And I thought I knew what pattern to use. Several rows in, it didn’t look right, so I tried another pattern. And another one. And another one. Six “not right” patterns later, both I and the yarn were frazzled. Gale needed this shawl, these prayers, this one thing I could do from far away to give her comfort in heartbreak, and here I was floundering around, unable to figure out what this yarn wanted to be. One day, as I tried yet another pattern while knitting with my prayer shawl group, I glanced across the table at the shawl my fellow knitter, Dee was making. Something told me that the stitch she was working was the one I needed for Gale’s shawl.
“What stich is that, Dee?”
“Little Shells.”
I groaned inwardly. I had once made a shawl with the Little Shells stitch and had made so many mistakes that I nicknamed it “Little Shells from—” Yes, from there. It had been a such a nightmare that I vowed never to use that stitch again. As they say, never say never. It turned out that the blue yarn that matches Gale’s eyes wanted to be Little Shells so much that I only had to take it back to fix a mistake once and was finished in two weeks. I wrapped it, wrote another card, and mailed it off to my friend. A few days later, Gale called me, in tears.
“You’ll never know how much this means to me, Sherry. I had a really bad day today and I couldn’t get hold of any of my single friends to talk about it. On the way home from work, I told God, ‘I really need something.’ When I got home, your package was leaning against my front door.” Again, a shawl arrived at the right time, a time only God could know.
I don’t fret about the timing of prayer shawls anymore. All I have to do is respond to the nudges God gives me to make them and leave the rest to Him. It lends joy and wonder to the peaceful process of knitting. I take this lesson of trust with me on the journey toward the publication of The Heavenly Hugs Prayer Shawl Ministry, as well. The road to traditional publication is long and arduous. I’m doing the work, just as I knit the shawls. When all is said and done, however, I trust God to bring the book out at the right time, a time that only He can know.
These are some of my stories about how making prayer shawls has deepened my relationship with God. I’d love to hear yours. What lessons have you learned? Have you had miracles of timing, too? Go over to my contact page and tell me about it!
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