Friday November 13

Psalm 138:7-8

My grandmother crochets the most beautiful doilies and table runners. She creates each piece from memory, and each one is unique and delicate and beautiful. My grandmother’s English is limited. I learned “Spanglish” as I was growing up, so a few times our actions had to overcome our language barrier. Once when I was visiting, she had left her latest crochet project on the arm of the sofa. My curious hands pulled the string that was hanging at the end. In a panic, I tried to “even out” the mistake I made, but I unraveled it more than I expected. By the time she returned to the table, my grandmother arrived to find a pile of thin yarn and a scared granddaughter hiding behind the chair, worried that she had ruined everything. When my grandmother looked from the pile of yarn to me, I burst into tears. 

Perdóname, buelita! Perdóname,” I cried. “Forgive me, grandma! Forgive me!” She chuckled at my use of formal words to address her, sighed an “ay Alyssíta,” put me back on her lap, and showed me how to recreate the pattern. And there we stayed, the creator of my family tree comforting me and recreating something beautiful out of the tangled mess I’d made. Her hands expertly wove the needle in and out of the yarn, while she rocked and assured me with one of the few English phrases she knew: “is okay, is okay.”

While the psalmist knows what it’s like to be in trouble, the poet attests to God’s intimate care and deliverance. God’s steadfast love endures forever, fulfilling a divine purpose for the one he has saved, much like a grandmother who remembers that the work of her hands is more than what she makes with a crochet needle. 

Consider

In what ways do you see God’s handiwork in your life?

Pray

Creator God, in the midst of despair and grief, help us remember that your steadfast love endures forever, and you will never forsake your purpose for us. Amen.

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