Over the weekend, I finished the Rainbow Socks.
When I purchased this yarn, my hands still hurt so much I couldn’t knit. I purchased this rainbow striping sock yarn as a promise that I would be able to knit those Rainbow Socks I’d been coveting on everyone else’s feet.
As a child, my parents taught me the story of Noah and the Ark. After a warning from God, Noah built a large boat (the Ark) and loaded his family and a male/female set of each of the animals in the world. Then, an apocalyptic rage of water ended the rest of humanity and animals as God wiped his earthly slate clean. After the flood eased and Noah could disembark from his Ark, God placed a rainbow in the sky as a promise to humanity that he would never destroy the earth again.
Doesn’t it make you want to pick up one of those cute sets of the boat and animals? Pack up the boat and save yourselves, kiddos! Apocalyptic family fun for every day!
However, Noah’s story lodged the rainbow’s promise in my psyche. Each rainbow shows me how God promises to love me one more time. (Or at least, not kill me by drowning me in a flood which covers the entire planet.)
While my perspective has changed this story from literal to parable, I still love rainbows. Each rainbow, whether in the air or on a flag or on a pair of socks, fills me with hope and wonder, and that hope springs from that story.
So, these Rainbow Socks are my hope and my promise. Finishing them gives me hope that I can return to my former knitting production. Each time I look at them, I am reminded that knitting projects can be finished. Each stitch adds up into a row and each row into a tube or panel of knitting and each tube and panel of knitting can become a sock or a sweater or a cowl!
As I knitted these socks, each stripe reminded me of my promise to care for my hands. I stopped knitting when the pain came. I rubbed my hands with CBD lotion, did soft exercises to strengthen and limber them, completed an almost month-long cleanse to rid my body of toxins. I pampered them and guarded them and they responded. The pain eases a little more each day. My knitting time increases.
I even cast on Eric’s Summer Socks. (Did I mention he’s here now? Five more weeks of Eric time!)
My Rainbow Socks aren’t just a celebration of color at the end of my legs. My Rainbow Socks represent a promise to myself that I will care for my hands. My Rainbow Socks remind me that my knitting isn’t just my art, but part of healing and a way I share my love with others.
And now, I celebrate.
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