The yarn sits in a jumble by my feet. Ivory yarn that was once a scarf for my sister-in-law. I’ve started to unravel it to turn it into something else.
You see, she never really got a chance to wear it – she died the winter after I made it for her.
And now, 4 years later, I’m taking apart the gift I once stitched and can’t help compare it to the unraveling of life as we once knew. The unraveling of familial relationships – relationships that will never be the same.
And I’ve felt the pulling and the yanking as the stitches have been undone. I’ve even felt the severing as the knots have been cut away.
I’ve been living with this process for years now and I’m reaping the fallout. The escape into mind-numbing pursuits, pushing sleep away, trying to be all, and carrying the weight of family strain. All the stitches being yanked and undone.
As I hold the yarn, I’m reliving the last few years, all the pain and weight felt again.
But I know that the pulling of the yarn has a greater purpose than just a meaningless pile on the floor. Soon, I’ll gather it up and roll it into a skein. Once that’s done the stitches will be cast on and something beautiful, useful, will begin to take shape.
So, I beg the Father, do this in the unraveled mess of my heart and life.
Please, to the One who makes all things new, take my life and knit something beautiful.
With hope, and a glimmer of anticipation, I take up the needles and will turn a dead woman’s yarn into something useful again.