It was challenging at church this morning.
The pastor was in fine form as usual, his analogies hitting the mark perfectly. His message was clear and appropriate during our present times, exhorting us all to think deeply about our lives and the lives of others. Even my voice was challenged this morning by the vast range of music that the worship team had chosen for this weeks praise. Yet the most challenging aspect of the service came in the form of a fellow worshipper.
I shared my pew today with a lady who knits. Now, I'm well aware of the fact that our pastor has nothing against people knitting during his sermon, what I wasn't aware of though, was how absolutely, torturously tempting I'd find it!
Out of the corner of my eye I could see her needles flying as she made great headway on a hat for a local mission project. I found my thoughts wandering from the pastors words as I wondered whether she was an English or Continental knitter; a wrapper or a thrower?
I snuck a surreptitious glance to my right and quickly ascertained that, yeah, she was a 'cottage' knitter just like me and she throws her yarn!
As the pastor continued his eloquent sermon, I wrapped my arms around myself to try to contain the movements that my hands were so desperate to indulge in. I could see the rythmic movement of the knitting needles just within my line of vision. I can't tell you how painful this was. In the end I had to position myself very slightly turned towards my left in an effort to ignore my fellow knitter.
Sitting on my hands, it took all my concentration at church this Sunday not to yell out, "Are you knitting top down or bottom up?!"