Hello darling readers. Once again I have failed in my attempt to write for you at least once a week. I hope you can forgive me. One of these days perhaps I will make it up to you by writing quite a few blogs at once. Maybe.
Yesterday was Thanksgiving here in good ol' America, which means no school and I got to go home! So Tuesday evening I had a flight back to Chicago, and I was more than excited to get there. My roommate volunteered to drive me to the airport, so that morning I finished packing and was ready to go. Two and a half hours before I needed to leave I found out that a friend of mine also needed to go to the airport, much earlier than I, and her ride was stuck in traffic miles away. So my roommate agreed to drive her as well and we were off.
We arrived at the airport in perfect time for her flight, I waited at the gate with her for maybe ten minutes before her plane started boarding and she was gone. I checked the time. I had two hours and forty minutes in the airport before my flight. I wandered over to my gate and read while I watched several airplanes come and go. Just as I was beginning to feel antsy about sitting in that airport forever, a plane pulled up to our gate, and it was ours! Hooray! I fished out my boarding pass and waited for them to call for boarding. Ten minutes later, they did not call for boarding, but instead informed us that our flight was delayed by at least 20 minutes because our pilot wasn't here yet. Because I am an odd person, this was somewhat exciting to me. "Why, we already have a plane and our flight is delayed! How interesting!" And just as the novelty of waiting even longer for our flight started to wear off, our pilot arrived and we were called for boarding.
If any of you were on a plane Tuesday night and were mildly horrified as you watched a short little college student stand on the seat and tug a suitcase only slightly smaller than herself up to the overhead compartment while repeatedly refusing help from the taller and stronger flight attendants by insisting, "I've got it! It's so light!" Yep, that was me. For those of you who weren't there I assure you everyone was a tad bit horrified. Something about not wanting suitcases and little girls to fall on their heads.
The plane took off and I whipped out my crocheting and diligently worked on a new scarf for the entire flight (new you ask? Why, yes, dear reader, I finished the first scarf and have begun a new one! If you aren't sure I assure you this is an accomplishment of epic proportions), and pressed my face against the window as the pilot announced our descent into Chicago. We were home! As I stepped off the plane I nearly fainted with joy at the sight of Midway airport. It was so familiar, the seats, the tiles, the woman's voice over the intercom intoning a warning to all that the moving walkway is ending. That airport felt so strongly of home I had to fight the urge to simply sit down on the floor and soak up the Midway-ness of it all.
When I think about it, it of course seems a little odd that an airport would feel so strongly of home, but as a follower of Christ it definitely makes sense. In Hebrews 11, the writer talks about the amazing faith of some biblical persons, like Noah and Abraham. He goes on to say of them in Hebrews 11:15-16 "If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them." We, like Abraham, are on our way to a better city, we are not called to find a true home in this world. In a way, an airport is my truest home because it embodies transition, the willingness to leave one place for another. I want to be ready to pack my bags at the call of God, and to call transition my home.
Truly His,
Caroline
Friday, November 27, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Hooked on Him
Which do you feel less threatened by: a needle, or a hook? I personally am beginning to embrace the hook. For those of you wondering why Caroline is so interested in pointed objects, I will clarify: I have officially traded in my knitting needles for a crocheting hook. Now, I know, you are all asking, "But Caroline, what will become of your ridiculously wide scarf?" Don't worry, dear readers, but allow me to explain.
When last you heard of the plot of my scarf, it was coming along very slowly, but had a great hope for its future. Well, since then I have become increasingly busy with other housewife-type activities like baking, and the knitting was banished to the far corner of my bookshelf. Every now and then I would consider retrieving it, but then I would remember that it was so very ridiculously wide, and any motivation to work on it would fade. You see, the scarf had grown to a point where it had lost all hope of every becoming a scarf. It was well on its way to becoming a blanket, but certainly not a scarf. So yesterday I pulled it off the shelf and gazed at it for a long while. I came to the conclusion the best thing to do would be to just start over, and with a sigh I began to unravel it, reducing my large knitted swatch into a ball of yarn. As I was doing so my dear friend, who is quite gifted in the area of crocheting, suggested to me that if I had such difficultly knitting, perhaps crocheting would be an easier alternative. She offered my a crocheting hook and a quick lesson and soon my new and improved scarf was underway!
I will tell you, my darling readers, that I was amazed at how very right she was. Crocheting was so simple! So quick! Why, with my new and reasonable width, I was well on my way to a completed scarf in no time! So after a few rows I stopped asking her to check and make sure I was doing it right, confident that I had mastered my new skill. In fact, just to show how much I had mastered my new skill, I counted the stitches. I was about to prove that I was no longer making this scarf wider with every row.
I counted.
I counted again.
I sighed.
Well, the scarf was not getting any wider. However, in the five rows since I had stopped asking for help I had lost precisely five stitches. At this point I contemplated giving up and just offering the yarn to someone more gifted. If all of my knitting was doomed to grow far too wide, it seemed my crocheting was doomed to fade into nothingness. I soon realized my problem, overconfident, I had stopped paying attention to one step she had assured me was tricky but essential, the final stitch in each row. My heart leaped! I knew what the problem was! That meant I could fix it! So armed with this new awareness of the dangers of missing the last stitch I dove back into my crocheting and watched as the scarf, now remaining a consistent width, continued to develop. I am fairly pleased to inform you that it is now coming along rather well, in my humble opinion.
As I was looking through the Bible for what God might have to say about this little scarf-making adventure, I came across this passage in Jeremiah 18:3-6, "So I went down to the potter's house, and I saw him working at the wheel. But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him. Then the word of the LORD came to me: "O house of Israel, can I not do with you as this potter does?" declares the LORD. "Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel." For this new scarf to be made, I had to pull the old one apart; the shape it had taken was wrong. But through the act of unraveling it, something much better was able to be formed. This is much like how God deals with our mistakes. When there are parts of us that are not right, he can pull them out and make something so much more beautiful than what would have been. I know he can do amazing things when we choose to let him unravel the imperfections in our lives, and so I can't help but trust him to do it. He is God, after all.
Truly His,
Caroline
When last you heard of the plot of my scarf, it was coming along very slowly, but had a great hope for its future. Well, since then I have become increasingly busy with other housewife-type activities like baking, and the knitting was banished to the far corner of my bookshelf. Every now and then I would consider retrieving it, but then I would remember that it was so very ridiculously wide, and any motivation to work on it would fade. You see, the scarf had grown to a point where it had lost all hope of every becoming a scarf. It was well on its way to becoming a blanket, but certainly not a scarf. So yesterday I pulled it off the shelf and gazed at it for a long while. I came to the conclusion the best thing to do would be to just start over, and with a sigh I began to unravel it, reducing my large knitted swatch into a ball of yarn. As I was doing so my dear friend, who is quite gifted in the area of crocheting, suggested to me that if I had such difficultly knitting, perhaps crocheting would be an easier alternative. She offered my a crocheting hook and a quick lesson and soon my new and improved scarf was underway!
I will tell you, my darling readers, that I was amazed at how very right she was. Crocheting was so simple! So quick! Why, with my new and reasonable width, I was well on my way to a completed scarf in no time! So after a few rows I stopped asking her to check and make sure I was doing it right, confident that I had mastered my new skill. In fact, just to show how much I had mastered my new skill, I counted the stitches. I was about to prove that I was no longer making this scarf wider with every row.
I counted.
I counted again.
I sighed.
Well, the scarf was not getting any wider. However, in the five rows since I had stopped asking for help I had lost precisely five stitches. At this point I contemplated giving up and just offering the yarn to someone more gifted. If all of my knitting was doomed to grow far too wide, it seemed my crocheting was doomed to fade into nothingness. I soon realized my problem, overconfident, I had stopped paying attention to one step she had assured me was tricky but essential, the final stitch in each row. My heart leaped! I knew what the problem was! That meant I could fix it! So armed with this new awareness of the dangers of missing the last stitch I dove back into my crocheting and watched as the scarf, now remaining a consistent width, continued to develop. I am fairly pleased to inform you that it is now coming along rather well, in my humble opinion.
As I was looking through the Bible for what God might have to say about this little scarf-making adventure, I came across this passage in Jeremiah 18:3-6, "So I went down to the potter's house, and I saw him working at the wheel. But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him. Then the word of the LORD came to me: "O house of Israel, can I not do with you as this potter does?" declares the LORD. "Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel." For this new scarf to be made, I had to pull the old one apart; the shape it had taken was wrong. But through the act of unraveling it, something much better was able to be formed. This is much like how God deals with our mistakes. When there are parts of us that are not right, he can pull them out and make something so much more beautiful than what would have been. I know he can do amazing things when we choose to let him unravel the imperfections in our lives, and so I can't help but trust him to do it. He is God, after all.
Truly His,
Caroline
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Coloring
Hello friends. Once again, I must begin by apologizing to you for neglecting you. I had resolved in my mind to blog here at least once a week. And then I watched a week roll by and thought to myself, "I have nothing interesting to write about," and left it unwritten. Another week, and every time the blog would enter my mind, I would say once again, "But I have nothing interesting to write about" and go back to reading other people's blogs about nothing in particular. I have finally realized that none of my entries have been about particularly interesting subjects, and I ought to simply sit down and write. So here am I, to talk about crayons.
Yesterday, I checked my mailbox, also known as the Box of Joy or Despair. Yesterday it was indeed a box of joy. Upon opening my box I found a very large envelope, folded in half, with my name on the front. Not only did it have my name on it, in the corner it had my brother's name on it! This was not just any old letter, this was a letter from my older brother! As you may be able to tell, this is precisely the kind of letter that makes any day better.
So, heading back to my dorm I opened up the envelope to find not only a letter but a generous stack of Disney coloring pages, labeled with a post-it note informing me that I should go and get some crayons. If any of you have not recently had the privilege of coloring with crayons I highly encourage you to do as I did, that is, run out immediately and find some crayons.
Crayons are some of the best things in the world. I would argue that in their very nature they have made the world a better place. Let me examine three of their more wonderful attributes. First, they come in scores of jubilantly-named colors (mine came in a 64 pack including colors such as "Macaroni & Cheese" and "Purple Mountains' Majesty"). Second, they are simply the best possible material for their job; their wax is just flexible enough to be comfortable to hold and just sturdy enough to color purposeful. Finally, they are completely useful; the entire crayon is made of the same colorful substance, there is not one tiny bit of it that cannot be used to color. It is wrapped in paper and when the paper must be torn off, it can be used to color on, or as a swatch! Not to mention that coloring in itself is simply one of the most fun and relaxing activities I can possibly imagine.
Filling in my coloring books, I have been left to ponder the simple goodness of crayons. That's exactly what I so love about them, everything about them is simply good. And I am drawn to the verse in Psalm 145 where David writes, "The LORD is good to all; he has compassion on all he has made." I know it's a simple and a silly thing to compare God to crayons, but if I am so drawn to these little sticks of wax because of their goodness, how much more should I be drawn to the God who is good to all? In Hosea 2:19 the Lord says to his people, "I will betroth you to me forever; I will betroth you in righteousness and justice, in love and compassion." God is after our hearts, and his goodness is simply irresistible.
Truly His,
Caroline
Yesterday, I checked my mailbox, also known as the Box of Joy or Despair. Yesterday it was indeed a box of joy. Upon opening my box I found a very large envelope, folded in half, with my name on the front. Not only did it have my name on it, in the corner it had my brother's name on it! This was not just any old letter, this was a letter from my older brother! As you may be able to tell, this is precisely the kind of letter that makes any day better.
So, heading back to my dorm I opened up the envelope to find not only a letter but a generous stack of Disney coloring pages, labeled with a post-it note informing me that I should go and get some crayons. If any of you have not recently had the privilege of coloring with crayons I highly encourage you to do as I did, that is, run out immediately and find some crayons.
Crayons are some of the best things in the world. I would argue that in their very nature they have made the world a better place. Let me examine three of their more wonderful attributes. First, they come in scores of jubilantly-named colors (mine came in a 64 pack including colors such as "Macaroni & Cheese" and "Purple Mountains' Majesty"). Second, they are simply the best possible material for their job; their wax is just flexible enough to be comfortable to hold and just sturdy enough to color purposeful. Finally, they are completely useful; the entire crayon is made of the same colorful substance, there is not one tiny bit of it that cannot be used to color. It is wrapped in paper and when the paper must be torn off, it can be used to color on, or as a swatch! Not to mention that coloring in itself is simply one of the most fun and relaxing activities I can possibly imagine.
Filling in my coloring books, I have been left to ponder the simple goodness of crayons. That's exactly what I so love about them, everything about them is simply good. And I am drawn to the verse in Psalm 145 where David writes, "The LORD is good to all; he has compassion on all he has made." I know it's a simple and a silly thing to compare God to crayons, but if I am so drawn to these little sticks of wax because of their goodness, how much more should I be drawn to the God who is good to all? In Hosea 2:19 the Lord says to his people, "I will betroth you to me forever; I will betroth you in righteousness and justice, in love and compassion." God is after our hearts, and his goodness is simply irresistible.
Truly His,
Caroline
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)