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Margin. The white space around the words in a book that makes it easier to read. It's also a good place for adding our thoughts to those of the original author's, for some of us (weirdly, the only book I will write in is my Bible - to the extent that Adam got me a journaling Bible with wide, lined margins after watching me struggle to fit a thought in the small space that bordered the page of my regular Bible).

Yesterday evening was our church's monthly New Community service - we sang some songs, celebrated a few baptisms, had communion together... and we were all given a pretty sheet of paper and couple of prompts, then the even greater gift of time to write out our gratitude.

Consistent gratitude is something that takes effort - intentionality - time - and margin. My slow, methodical system values a sacred space in which to ponder... and I'm grateful for a faith home that considers thankfulness (toward God and toward each other) of sufficient importance to carve out that space corporately. 

2150. Taking a coat, even though it was warm, because I ended up using it to keep Tobin dry
2151. Needed knitting time
2152. An unexpected conversation with a friend
2153. Practicing peace on the balcony, wrapped in a blanket - the cool air was head clearing
2154. Adam taking care of cleaning the living room and kitchen after I went to bed early with a headache
2155. Space for gratitude
2156. Tobin taking a good morning nap - he needed the rest, and Brooklyn and I enjoyed introverting together
2157. A library-and-cookies-afterwards day
2158. British television series - perfect for knitting


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31 Days of Unraveling Designs

It's that time of year again... the 31 Days writing challenge starts today! Bloggers from all over will be writing every day of the month of October on the topic of their choosing. This will be my fourth year participating - the first year I did 7 for 31, and spent a month going through Jen Hatmaker's book 7. The second year I did 31 Days of Sustainable Dwelling, and wrote about local and fair trade living. Last year I was busy but still wanted to participate, so I went the easy route with 31 Days of Everyday Beautiful.

This year I'm diving into my greatest passion: knitting! I'll spend this month looking at past designs and talking about the inspiration behind them, so there will be plenty of regular life mixed in with the stitching - and there may be discount codes for the patterns that I write about. You'll just have to read and see!

Pattern index:

Pageturner Mitts
Hogwarts House Tie
Urban Artemis
Graffiti for Humanity
Love Out Loud
Strange Jacket


In order to change your knitting, you must first change yourself. I've lost track of how many times I've said that, or how many people I've said it to. Frustrated new knitters wondering why their work is loose or tight or uneven or really anything less than perfect. But something I love about knitting is that it's a record of your inner dialogue. That swatch knit at the yarn store table with a cozy cup of coffee and a helpful (and more experienced) knitter nearby is going to be a lot more relaxed than the sweater begun a week later while sitting next to a hospital bed - just like the knitter.

Unfortunately, this also applies to my own knitting. For years, I was apparently unaffected by the shifts and turmoils in my own life, so I assumed that I was exempt from the rule - when the reality was, in fact, that I wasn't really experiencing any of those on anything deeper than a surface level because everything was deadened by depression. When I finally started to really…


A few years ago, I was introduced to the concept of replacing the traditional list of resolutions with a single word. It appealed to me - I am not a big list person, but I love language and words and meanings and etymology and metaphor and... ahem. Ennyhoo. I liked the idea.
I've never chosen the word. It's always presented itself to me - and last year was no different. Pacific was very insistent, even though I tried to argue with it. Pacific? What does that even mean? What am I supposed to do with that?
But I accepted it, and I'm glad I did. I learned about depth and calm, about storm and nurture, about faith and adventure - and about the unstoppable ocean of God's grace, that overwhelms to fill and cleanse and bring blessings unasked.
So I'm bidding pacific a very fond farewell, and welcoming spark and whatever lessons it would like to bring. I invited it in with a copper wire punctuated with tiny lights and wrapped around my mood board, and I've got an empt…