To re-knit or NOT to re-knit?

I had never known that you can reuse wool before until I wrote a blog about unravelling and got responses back from people about the power of re-used wool. Until then I thought that once something was knitted together and became unravelled you simply threw it away and started again. The more and more I investigated the idea of reusing old wool that had come unravelled, I became more and more aware of the depth of this process. 

 

A dear and wise friend wrote to me: 

 

“In the unravelling we still have the wool. We lose the shape of what was, but we carry the same wool for remaking the new. All the memories, the experience’s, the lessons, the joys and griefs are still in the wool – it’s not in the shape we loved, crafted, cared for and created though and that’s what makes the heart ache.”

I confess I am not yet anywhere near the “re-making” stage in my life, the unravelling is far too painful, and I cannot yet see any joy in the new. I know it will be a very long process. During the heart ache of this current season, I decided on a project to unravel something I made 37 years ago. Something that I have treasured and had for so long to see if it would help the current healing process. This jumper was to me still perfect, it did not need to be unravelled, it was functional and comfortable and surrounded me with the warmth I needed, so it was hard to decide to unravel it. Yet, this is what happens at times, doesn’t it? It didn’t make sense to unravel a perfectly good jumper, but this was a process that didn’t need to make sense. Sometimes trying to make sense of the “why” is not the correct question to ask, more often we need to ask the question “what next” and this is what this unravelling project was about. 

As I unravelled a jumper I had lovingly made all those years ago, I was surprised as to how hard it was to pull apart. What I thought would simply just fall apart with a few pulls, was not so.

Although it had been knitted so long ago, it was so entwined, that I had to resort to cutting it which caused lots of small pieces of twine. The cutting process was painful for me, yet very real. It took a very long time, I wanted to give up so many times, thinking this is just too hard. And yet I was thankful it was a hard and long process because it showed that something made with such love should take a long time to unravel. If it had unravelled with one pull, it wouldn’t have been so strong and well-made and maybe I would have to question its strength in the first place.  But it took almost as long to unravel as it did to remake something new. This gave me a strange comfort, a validation that the original knitting was not a waste of time, or for nothing.   

Ecclesiastes 4:12 – “A three corded strand is not so easily broken”.  

 

 And yet after a lot of time cutting and ripping and pulling it was all unravelled. All the pieces, in

various sizes.  What was once whole pieces of coloured strands of wool was now all in pieces. What was once knitted together to create a whole piece, a unique design that gave me warmth, shelter, covering, joy, and life was now gone. Some might look at the original jumper and say, well it was very dated, very 80’s, maybe it was time for something new. For me, while I like new things, the old is still special to me and there is something about the love and memories created over time that can never be replaced with something new. But as we are all learning, life throws the unexpected at you and sometimes the old must go, sometimes it is cut, ripped, and pulled away from you and you have no choice but to begin again. 

I was left with the process of tying the broken pieces together to make a new ball of wool, a combination of all the colours, all the threads of the past creation, connected with knots.  

The ball of wool showed its imperfections, its brokenness, and yet the hope of something new that could be remade, rather than the option I had only known before, that it simply needed to be thrown away.

To begin again with the wool that carries all those memories, experiences and lessons, brings the old into the new and creates something better than new.  Or so I have been told. 

 

As I considered what I could reknit, I knew I was not up to re-knitting a jumper. I am not sure how I even knitted the first one, with all its intricate designs. I knew I was only up to making something simple, something that showed me something “new and functional” was possible from these broken strands of wool. 

 
I began to re-knit, to re-use the wool that had been unravelled and created something that now sits on my bed, carrying the memories, the joys, and the griefs of the past. It was all the colours mixed, rather than the colours being separated as in the original design, and yet speaks to me of the hope of something new.  It is not as functional as the original, more of a decoration, a memorial even. This time it was knitted with tears, the original being knitted with love, but none the less it is new. 
 

“Forget about what’s happened; don’t keep going over old history. Be alert, Be present. 

I’m about to do something brand-new” Isaiah 43:18-19

 
To re-knit or not to re-knit, that is always the question? I’m trusting God that the only option is to re-knit and trust in that process. Right now, I am “faking it till I make it”, one day at a time. The new cushion reminds me each day it’s a choice and yet it gives me a smile of the past as I press forward to the new.