She Sits and Knits (Adoption Never Ends)

She sits and knits:

Almost every Sunday, I get odd looks from people as they walk past us on their way in and out of the church sanctuary. Hilda and I consistently sit in the very back of the church, in front of the tech booth, doing our best to be as far into the corners as possible, in hopes we don’t get noticed… but we do, because my daughter does the same thing every Sunday… she sits, and knits.

She is always in hoodie and sweatpants, and always by my side.

People stand to sing, and she sits and knits.

Folks meet and greet for that most awkward minute of church service, and she sits and knits,

Ushers walk by to collect for offering, and she sits and knits.

The pastor preaches his message, and she sits and knits.

Alter calls… she pauses knitting… sometimes her eyes close, sometimes she stares into nothing, sometimes she holds onto me as if I would vanish if she didn’t.

Whatever the message was about, she is processing it… she heard every word, and it has hit home.

Closing song… usually a hymn… she sings. Her voice is so soft if you breathe loudly you will miss it, but she is singing… no, she is praying… the closing song is her prayer. She knows every word, every note and she is lost in the moment.

As the song comes to an end and people start to shuffle out, sometimes she is eager to leave, other times she is still holding onto me for dear life. Either way, there is a scarf with her, wrapped up in a ball, ready for the next service.

I take peoples glances in stride. They don’t know us, they have seen our faces for over a year, but only a few have ever stopped to exchange names, let alone stories.

And it is because of her stories, I am grateful that she sits and knits.

Because of the stories she has never told me about her time in foster care before she came to live with us.

Because of the stories of her life that she cannot remember or chooses not to.

Because she didn’t ask for her short life to go through as many changes as it has.

So she sits and knits. Scarf after scarf. And I am grateful.

I am grateful that she doesn’t fight me about going to church on Sunday’s. She doesn’t gripe about going to church on Wednesday nights for Youth Group where yes, she sits and knits.

I am grateful for the back row, under the shadow of a tech booth that we both used to operate in a previous life.

I am grateful for a church that allows her the freedom to be herself.

I am grateful for an environment that encourages her to sit and listen.

I am grateful that she is always by my side, because I know…

She is listening to the songs and the messages

She is learning about grace and forgiveness

She is contemplative of repentance and redemption… and

She is… healing… healing from her stories… all while, she sits and knits.