This past week the Wednesday morning Missions Circle received a bag and basket of yarns and wools, with all kinds of unfinished projects. There were socks and baby bonnets, slippers and scarfs, little sweaters and toques; each accompanied by a couple of knitting needles and unused string. The colors included light blues; dark, soft yellows and mustard; light purples and pinks; soft teals and white. The patterns in each of the projects would make cadet knot tying badges blush. There is the standard crochet moss stich, or the granite, the single mesh stitch, or the thick and thin front loop stitch, a star stitch or a seed stitch. There is the diamond honey comb, or the Chinese wave; a herringbone stitch or a single rib knit. Some ladies are magicians with their wands, making something out of nothing, using the netted stitch; the bamboo stitch or the basket weave. I have childhood memories of some of these soft-spoken women sitting in our living room, engaged in conversation while needles were gently clicking in pace. Not wanting to have their hands sit idle, their craft would always join them. They would knit on a boat or knit with a goat. They would knit on a train, and even knit in the rain. They would knit with a fox and knit in a box. They would knit with a mouse and knit in the house. They would knit here or there, they would knit everywhere. And more often than not, their knitting would be gifts for those whom they loved; socks for a child, baby blankets for grandchildren, sweaters for preschoolers, and teenage scarfs. Every stitch would be woven with another person in mind. The basket and bag of unfinished projects, with lots of fabric and yarn to spare, came from a husband, whose wife began struggling with the early stages of Alzheimer’s. It made me think of the threads of our own lives which we think we are weaving. Yet when we look back we realize that it was not our doing at all, but marvel at the patterns and stitches the Lord has made of our lives, quietly knitting us together in our mother’s womb, inviting us adorn the warm pastel colors of his love.