I wonder...

I've been doing a lot of wondering lately.

I blame Godly Play.  I was introduced to this amazing storytelling technique earlier this year as part of my chaplaincy program at Children's.  In it, children (and adults) are invited to "wonder" about the story, allowing them to step into the world of the story and find ways to connect it with their own lives.  (You can learn more about Godly Play here if you're interested.)

When telling parables, we wonder with the kids about what things really are.  We wonder how things connect.  We wonder where we are in the story.  In telling these stories, I have heard some amazing responses from children that make me wonder why I had never seen it that way before.

In my own life, I have been wondering.  I wonder...how do I connect the pieces of my calling?  It seems they have all been falling in front of me lately, but I am still struggling with how to fit them together.  It's as if I have a hundred puzzle pieces in front of me, but no picture on a box to show me what it should look like.  Is this green a tree, or grass?  Is this a bird, a fish, a flower?  I wonder what the puzzle will look like when it is finished.  I wonder if I will ever finish it.

Like with the parables, it is helpful to look at each piece of the puzzle and wonder what they mean.  What are the pieces of my calling?  I know that I am called to work with children and their families.  I know I am called to be an advocate for those children.  I know that I am called to share God's Word with them.  I know that I am called to teach.  I know that I am called to help those in need.  I know that I am called to share my story and to help others share theirs.  I know that I am called to help children find the Holy Spirit in their lives through the art of creation.

Right now, it seems like I am constantly trying to put the pieces together, only to realize that they don't fit.  Am I missing pieces?  Do I have two puzzles mixed up together?

There is no immediate answer for these questions, for these wonderings.  I don't have a simple solution.  I just don't know yet.  But I suppose that is why we wonder.  When we wonder with children in Godly Play, we aren't seeking a RIGHT answer.  We are simply wondering, playing with ideas to see how they fit.  But as an adult, it is so hard to wonder!  I pray for the ability of a child to wonder without seeking an answer, to wonder simply in search of understanding.  That's all I can do.

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Teaching Knitting

I learned two important things on Sunday.

1) A circle is not the best chair arrangement for teaching knitting.
2) If you're confident in what you're doing, people will listen to what you have to say.

Yesterday I started a group that for a long time was just an idea in my head.  Knitting is an important part of my life, and I have been wanting to share it with others.  I had many ideas of how this might work: teaching middle schoolers how to knit, crochet, and spin in a one-day workshop; teach knitting at summer camp; offer a Sunday school class on knitting squares for an afghan.

But as I talked about my idea with friends and colleagues, I realized that it wasn't just knitting that was important; it was spirituality.  To me, knitting and spirituality are incredibly intertwined.  When I knit, I get in touch with the spiritual part of myself, the part of myself able and willing to sit quietly and pray, or listen, or do nothing.  The part of me that is usually restless and fidgety is silent.  I often have a problem sitting still; I bounce my legs or tap my foot or finger.  But when I knit, all that frantic, endless movement is transferred into my hands and fingers, which are moving needles and yarn and creating something.  When I knit, I am calm.

(Unless, of course, I am knitting lace.  Lace usually makes things worse.)

The group of women who showed up to knit yesterday was varied, from middle school to sixties/seventies.  But they all came to learn to knit.  I listened to their stories: some had knit before and given up for this reason or that.  Some had never knit.  Many were former crocheters with wrist problems.  As a former crocheter myself with similar problems, I understood.

It is intimidating teaching something new to people who are twice your age or more.  These women had more life experiences than me, more stories they could tell, perhaps even a better understanding of "spirituality."  Why should they listen to me?  Why would they pay attention to what I had to say?  But I sat there and said my piece, explaining why we were there, why I loved knitting, and why I wanted to share this love with them.  And then I taught them to knit.

And you know what?  By the end of that hour and a half, every single woman there was knitting.  Most of them had at least four rows completed.  And all but one seemed eager to come back next week.  And hopefully they will, because I am even more excited and confident now!