My great aunt often told the story of a woman she knew who was the last century’s version of a hoarder. She, however, was very organized in her collections and labeled everything in sight. In one of her cupboards was found a mason jar stuffed with bits of string. The label bore the truth of the matter – “String too small to use.” The whys and wherefores of this are now lost forever but I find the label to be much more than first thought.
With life comes troubles and doubts and, hopefully, with these come much thought and reflection. I find myself at a crossroads in life and in trying to gather all my musings together in one cohesive ideation, I instead have threads of thought “too small to use.” My mind either flits about from subject to subject, never landing on any one long enough to solve; or it jumbles many thoughts into a maze. I travel each thought to what I consider the end only to find it has morphed into another and another and finally I can’t locate where I started. I am now lost in a cornfield of my own making and the stalks are too high for me to see over.
With introspection hopefully comes consideration and then reasoning. I can’t even arrive at introspection. And reasoning seems hundreds of miles away. At this point I just file everything away in the back of my mind and, like Scarlett O’Hara, vow to think about that tomorrow. But the next day new issues have evolved and I can’t wrap my head around them all, so I again push them back and muster on.
Not only that, but the threads of my mind are becoming frayed at the end due to overuse. Now, there is not much to these tiny pieces in the first place, so I really can’t afford to lose any to fraying. If these thought threads were to disappear without my permission, how will I come to a conclusion? How will I know how to come to grips with my doubts and find a solution? Is there a solution?
With that thought another snaps into place and finds a welcome home. Prayer – – my life-line to the only One who can counsel with truth and love. Prayer – – comforting and peaceful. It stops the pains in my chest, the aches in my head and the trembling of my hands. It heals and provides hope of a resolution. It is a God send, literally.
So, I travel on my mind’s highway, picking up the pieces of thread, mending the frayed ends, and knitting them together to make a comforter for the future where I know I’ll be taken care of on high.
And so ends this raggedy jumble of thoughts and feelings and worries and such. I’ll now be taking out my knitting needles and starting on the afghan with threads that were originally too small to use and are now magically transformed into strands of fibers with purpose.
magicalmess 