gerbil blanket

You may not be familiar with gerbil blankets, so let me introduce you. I once took up crocheting, and much to my surprise, I caught on rather quickly. Moved with passion to create a beautiful scarf for myself all those years ago as winter approached (and hopefully many more for my friends), I sat daily and worked the yarn in and out and up and over in a quest of warm, fluffy splendor. And then something terrible happened.

L . I . F . E .

I was whisked away from my colorful kingdom of hooks and yarn and lured into the world of busy-ness that so consumes us all. This world battled against the kingdom of crocheting, and in as much, my “scarf” was left behind. Too long in length to be considered a “dish cloth,” but not long enough to claim the title of “scarf,” I deemed my creation a gerbil blanket. And if I had a gerbil, I am certain he would snuggle up under it with pride.

I still have my gerbil blanket, and in the last year or so, I have thought occasionally about retrieving it from its pit of abandonment to continue toward its original purpose of being a proud and cozy scarf. Isn’t that, after all, what all little gerbil blankets want- to grow up to be a scarf?

Well, ironically enough, I have suddenly been forced to find the time for such things as crocheting.

One small stint in the hospital with this darling little one, and I’m off my feet and chugging water like there’s no tomorrow. A few hours spent (re-)teaching myself, and I'm in yarn heaven. I must admit, however, that at this point, my crocheting hopes and dreams are leaning more towards a soft turquoise-blue baby blanket than a gerbil blanket-turned-scarf.


Maybe someday little gerbil blanket… Someday your day will come, and I will rescue you from your lonely, tucked away demise.

Until then, my little gerbil blanket reminds me that it’s never too late to grow in purpose, to do the right thing, to make changes that need to be made. That’s the joy of life in Christ. Grace is on our lives to enable us to be who we were created to be, whether we stopped in the middle and took another route, or we got all tangled up in the ever-weaving yarn of our lives. It’s never too late to seek after your God-ordained purpose. It’s never too late to rekindle a friendship that has been left behind. It’s never too late to speak the words “I’m sorry.” And it’s never too late to try again.

enough

A few short months ago, I encountered courage like I had never seen before. And it was not my own. This courage was housed in the battered heart of young girl who has known pain that I could never dream of. As she unfolded story after story to me of sorrow, grief, abuse, neglect, and despair, I couldn’t help but wonder for her, "Why this cross, Lord?" From the pit of her hardened soul she was crying out to me the grievances stricken upon her young and fragile life, repeating over and over that she could never be enough.

Those words pierced my heart like an arrow.

It was something we shared. You might share it with us too. Not good enough.

The journey to be good enough in my own mind was a long one for me, and it reached its peak when I was about 18 years old. I had given up life as I knew it to study ballet, and I struggled to fight toe to toe with other long-legged, stick thin figures to win the prize of a starring role under glistening lights before sold out crowds. I was darkly compelled by the searing blisters on my feet and the gurlgling empty belly of a body that longed to be fed, but was neglected in favor of losing a pound and gaining accolades. But no matter how much of a beating my body and soul took from its master, there was always the continuous nagging of not being good enough. It was relentless. And it was about SO much more than my body or snug fitting pointe shoes and tutus.

For some time, even years after I evaded the world of ballet, the quest to be good enough followed me around like a dark shadow, etching away at my heart and chiseling away any remaining fragments of the Truth that I had left behind so many years ago…

The young girl I met a few months ago left Truth behind too. The demands of her grief and the pain of her world rendered the Truth meaningless in her heart. It was a stark reality that shook me to the core of my being.

"For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago." Ephesians 2:10

Oh, that this young, courageous girl would find hope in the Truth again.

May it be a treasure we all clutch close to our hearts and protect for eternity.