Did you know I'm a quitter?
Either did I.
Actually, I'm not a quitter.
It just that there are things that come easy to me, and there are things that don't.
Its the things that are hard that make me want to quit.
No, I'm not a quitter. My problem is that I give up too easily.
I give-in to frustration. I begin to believe the lie that if I cannot figure it out it must not be meant for me.
Or (more often than I care to admit) I allow insecurity or pride dictate what I will learn.
Case in point: Crochet.
Several years ago a lady at our church offered to teach me how to crochet. She made it look so easy that I readily took her up on her offer.
After several starts and stops I made a wonky looking pot-holder and then gave it up. It was too difficult, to hard to figure out, and my end product wasn't what I had envisioned it to be.
You know, maybe the time wasn't right (for all things there is a season) but honestly, it was just too complicated.
Actually it wasn't. But my desire to have what she had made it more difficult.
I wanted the yarn to slip easily through my fingers; I wanted my stitches to be even and straight; I wanted to make beautiful things from a ball of yarn.
And I wanted them immediately.
What I needed was repetition. I needed to do the stitches many more times than the average bear. I needed to make pot-holders over and over again, and appreciate the work of practice, even if it wasn't always pretty.
That has been true of so many things in my life.
Repetition and grace. Practice, practice, practice. Learning that the finished project isn't going to come out the way I planned. Often times, its better.
Why am I telling you this?
Well, I've been making flowers. Flowers from yarn. Rachel taught me how to do this on Wednesday and I have made many, many flowers in the last 48 hours. With each one, they become more and more flower-like.
With every stitch I have been reminded to persevere. To remember that more often than not true beauty (success) is not measured in how quickly something is achieved, or in what the finished product may look like, but in the process of learning.
As I have moved that hook between strands of yarn, I was reminded that the imperfection of learning can reap a garden of joy.
Most of all I need to remember this in all things.
Not just when playing with yarn.