Stitched up

I tell a six year old who says things like, “I’m very interested in surgery.” that he’s going to stitch up some organs and then watch his eyes light up.

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I explain that he will stitch the pieces together and fill them up. Plush organs we will use for another project.

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And I find myself saying, “Stitch by stitch. Don’t rush. One at a time.”

And it feels like what I’m really saying is “Take your time. Don’t grow up too fast.”

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I read to him while he stitches away. When a stitch doesn’t go right, it’s pulled out.

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And I find myself saying, “Try again. This is the way. Watch me. Look if I go this way it gets all tangled up. But if you go the right direction… ”

And it feels like what I’m really saying is, “You will fall. Get back up. I’ll try to teach you the way… but learn from my mistakes. Obey the truth.”

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A thousand ways flawed. Bruised and broken from all the times I’ve fallen. And pulling out stitches from my failures. I put them back one by one. Stitch by stitch. Go the right way. Stay with the truth.

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He moves from mind to stomach to heart.

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And I remember: truth I know in my head, feel in the pit of my gut, and lock away in my heart. It moves from knowledge, to a stirring in my soul, to life changing belief.

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Through teaching my boy, I see analogies of my journey come to life in felt and thread.

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Through a simple morning of:

A baby trying to hold himself up.

A boy trying to sew a heart.

A mother lost in the recollection of how many times she has gotten lost and fallen down- tangled up in a struggle she couldn’t sort out and crying out to be healed.

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And then her thoughts are interrupted by a small voice saying, “Can you help me fix this heart? It’s almost ready to be filled up. It just needs a few more stitches. It’s almost healed.” ❤️