When I sew with children we encounter mistakes. There are a number of ways I can help to resolve seams gone awry, or gaps in the sleeve. I try to gauge the mood and skills of the student when I speak. I have no desire to overwhelm a girl who has ripped an inseam three times already, nor to underestimate a child who wants to get this
right.
Sometimes I ask if they can live with the wrinkled result, or the small hole. If they can, we move on. If they want to try again, I support that.
In some cases, I discretely fix a problem when the child is busy pinning the next part. I may ask permission to do this, or I might be sneaky.
Other times a student has sewn themselves into a corner, and the rescue would sink their spirits. This
week for the first time I asked if I could bring a skirt home. The student had worked faithfully for an hour, tracing the pattern, cutting the large pieces, sewing some seams, serging others. Then in the last five minutes of class her waistband was as rippled as the waves in Hawaii. She has earned this project. It is hers. Yet I wanted her to like the garment, or at least not blame it for the blunder. She nodded her acceptance of my offer. This week, I will sit in front of a movie with a sharp
pair of scissors and smooth the fabric into place.
I thought about how God navigates our missteps. It occurs to me that His strategies vary as well. Sometimes I feel stymied by a conflict, and have no energy to keep trying. Then out of the blue, a resolution will drop from the sky. Other times it is my turn to lean in, and apologize, or let down my guard.
One time I was practicing a sharp response to someone whom I had an issue
with. Then, as the conversation landed, I never got a chance to speak. I smiled when I realized how God had smoothed out our interaction. I could take no credit for self-restraint.
But I can live with that.