Knitting, as I’ve noticed, is a quiet sort of activity. A college student who attends my church knits during the Sunday morning service. She can do this relatively unnoticed because knitting is quiet and unintrusive. I was at the airport on Monday night waiting to pick up a missionary who is staying with me and Jeff this week. His flight was delayed, and I ended up spending time in the company of a woman who was knitting something pink. Her fingers moved silently, and, at times, I suspect her mind was a million miles away and not at all focused on her project.
I don’t knit. I don’t know anything about how to operate those long needles or how to maneuver my fingers in a productive way. Basically, I don’t know how to create something beautiful out of yarn. I do know, however, that God has recently drawn my attention to knitting for a reason.
In the past several days, God has knit together a message just for me. He’s done it through the words and actions of others. It started on Sunday with a missionary who posed the question, “What are you willing to do for God?” I’ve heard the question before, but it made me uncomfortable this time. Maybe because I know God might ask me to do something risky or uncomfortable or even painful.
Jeff Kamphausen, a missionary to Cambodia, is staying at my house this week. He, his wife, and their three young children serve in a country that presents challenges beyond what I can imagine. You see, I like my comfortable existence. But, I suspect God isn’t simply calling me to a comfortable life in the suburbs.
Messiah hosted Jim Wallis, author of “God’s Politicis: Why the Rights Gets It Wrong and the Left Doesn’t Get It,” last night. His message was clear — the days of left and right must end. As people of faith, we must quit reducing Christianity to one or two social issues. We must find a moral center, common ground where people of faith unite to bring change. We must discern our gifts and then match them with the most crushing needs of the world, determing to no longer sit and watch silently. Wallis called for revival. I thought of the line, “dancers who dance upon injustice,” from “Did You Feel the Mountains Tremble.” It’s time, Wallis encouraged, for us to quit electing politicians who lick their finger, poke it into the sky, and gauge the direction of the wind. Instead, it’s time for people of faith to be the wind.
In the car on the way home, it dawned on me: God is knitting a message for me. He’s opening my eyes to the things that break his heart, and he’s calling me to do something about those things. He’s asking me to work out the knots and tangles and make something beautiful. Something that glorifies him. And you know what? I get it. You know what else? I don’t think (thankfully) God is done with me. And he’s not done with you either.