Thanksgiving Hallelujah

I am sure you have heard the song "Hallelujah" written by Leonard Cohen and made popular by Jeff Buckley.  It is a haunting melody with lyrics that delight and confuse. Originally written in 1984, Cohen penned almost 80 verses to the song and performed them in various forms and arrangements in his tours. Many artists from different genres have covered it since then. It has become a staple of singers on competition shows like American Idol, X factor, and The Voice.

The simple refrain of "Hallelujah" appeals to those of us with faith. It embodies our desire to praise God, to give him thanks for our blessings.  It is the cry of Joshua when the walls of Jericho fell. It is the golden thread throughout the Psalms that our Almighty Father is worthy of all our praises. It is in the Hosanna on Palm Sunday. It is the roaring witness of the great multitude as well as the heart's whispered desire of the Apostle John in Revelation: "Amen. Come Lord Jesus." We love our hallelujahs, don't we?

Looking at these lyrics closely today, I was struck by what I had been overlooking. How did I miss the pain? Why didn't I hear the plaintive cry in the lyrics? Why did I focus on the hallelujahs and miss the brokenness? 

 "Maybe there's a God above, 

but all I"ve ever learned from love 

was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you. 

And it's not a cry that you hear at night, 

It's not somebody who's seen the light, 

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah."

Life has not been easy for us this year. In January, during his senior year of high school, Dylan decided to leave our home and live with another family for several months. I was fired from my job in April without notice or cause and the company fought my unemployment claim. (They lost.) I found legal work two months later as a temp at a facility that can only be described as a thinly-disguised, high-priced sweatshop. Chuck received an offer from his employer to transfer to Houston, so we lived separate lives for most of the summer.  I had to say goodbye to my church family; it was particularly sad to wave goodbye to my youth ministry kids. With Dylan off to college in Hattiesburg, Elaine, Carlos, and the kids in Mandeville, Chuck and I finally reunited in Houston in September, only to discover that the job market in Houston is incredibly tough to break into, especially for a new resident with no network of family and friends. Without my income, we are stretched to the breaking point, and I am beginning to wonder how to afford Thanksgiving dinner. It is difficult to find a hallelujah.

Yes, Dylan will be home from college for Thanksgiving. Elaine and Carlos are coming too and bringing the kids.Yes, we are reasonably healthy--although I am still plagued by tinnitus and hearing loss. Yes, life could be worse. But it could be better. It was better. I've know hallelujahs.

But remember when I moved in you 

And the holy dove was moving too

And every breath we drew was Hallelujah?

I have been thinking recently of what I would say when we exchange our "thanksgivings" at the dinner table. I have been hard pressed to find something that I can say out loud. I am thankful that Dylan hasn't been kicked out of college (At least, not yet.) I'm thankful that I don't have to drive the Gray Ghost in Houston traffic. (We sold it to a friend for her daughter who was in dire need of transportation. But that leaves us with only one vehicle and I am isolated and alone most of the time with no way to get out and meet people.) I am thankful that Chuck has a job. (But his company is restructuring which is and will continue to be stressful until everything shakes out months down the road.)

In the midst of this insanity of life, I can hold on to nothing except my faith that God is good, Jesus loves me, and the Holy Spirit will not forsake us. My cold, broken, whispered hallelujah will be a prayer for the promise of warmer, louder, stronger hallelujahs to come.

Southern Girl Knits

 

Yes, I knit. Obsessively. I buy yarn. Compulsively. I make things with sticks and yarn.

If knitting conjures up images of heavy fisherman sweaters, cold winter days, and snow in your mind, you may wonder why a southern girl would knit.   Yes, it it rarely cold enough in the south to need a scarf, hat, gloves, and overcoat. But I did live in Northwest Indiana for almost 15 years. I experienced snow--a life time of snow! And it was in Valparaiso that my true passion for knitting began.

I learned to knit originally in my twenties, but went on to other needle crafts like counted cross stitch and needlepoint.  In my thirties, I tried to pick it back up again. Sadly, the carpal tunnel syndrome that I developed while pregnant with Dylan flared up. Numbness and pain kept me from knitting for any length of time. Eventually the carpal tunnel became so severe that I was forced to have it surgically repaired. One of the very first things I did after healing was to pick up my knitting needles again. I found local yarn store (Sheeps Clothing) and a great community of knitters to share tips, pattern, techniques, etc. with (Sandi Pettit, Mary Rybak, Lisa Sandberg to name a few). I have never looked back. 

Over time, I have accumulated quite a collection of knitting needles. Straights. Circulars. Double pointed needles.  Cable needles. Metal. Bamboo. Plastic. Needles that have lighted tips so I can knit in the dark. (No, I'm not kidding.) I bought my first interchangeable needle and cable this week. I'm in love. If you see Santa, please tell him I want a set! Specifically Knitter's Pride Dreamz Deluxe Set with needle sizes from 4 to 11 and 4 cables in 24", 30" and 40 inch lengths.

Knitter's Pride Dreamz Interchangeable Deluxe set

I also have quite a stash of yarn. It used to be in a bunch of different boxes in closets and under beds until I purchased a extremely large plastic storage bin. Seriously large, as in big enough to hide a dead body in. It's only half full, but I limit its contents to previously used yarns. The full skeins are in the two bottom drawers of my knitting cabinet. The picture below was used in an earlier blog on making a twisted yarn cord. This is my yarn cabinet.

 If you look to the left, you can see the large blue plastic bin that houses the rest of my yarn. 

Of course, I also have a large collection of knitting books, magazines, and printed patterns. My favorite knitting magazine is Knit Simple. I have subscribed for 4 years and have used their patterns many times. They are well designed, well written, and never so "fashion forward" that I can't follow the pattern. After years of hoarding patterns that I run across on the internet, I finally organized these  into nine binders and labeled them: blanket and afghan patterns, purse patterns, sock and slipper patterns, hat patterns, toy patterns, scarves, shrugs, and shawl patterns, children's patterns, adult garment patterns, and a miscellaneous binder with knitting tips and technique info.

 With all of these knitting supplies, I have more projects in the planning stages than I will ever accomplish. I usually have about 3 different projects on my needles at any one time.  Currently, I am working on a short sleeve lace bolero sweater for myself as part of an online knitting class. I'll model it for you when I finish it.



Recently, I finished knitting some baby booties for our next door neighbor who just had a baby. I want to do a quick hat for the little one too and give them to her as a set. And I also have a blanket that I am working on. It is made of small diagonally knitted squares of random colors of yarn. It is a stash buster project, designed to use up the leftover bits and pieces of skeins that were used for other projects. (Really, it's a way to whittle down my stash so I can buy more yarn.) 

And I usually give my finished projects away. I like doing for others. It's who I am.  Did I knit something for you? Let me know in a comment if you liked it or still use it.