Two nights ago, I found a rare moment when the children were asleep, the house was clean, and all my chores were done for the day. My normal mental distractions were all tucked away, and I sat down in front of this Navajo loom. I haven't learned how to warp. This loom/warp was a community effort which I have inherited for a spell. I barely know what I'm doing or even what it's called. In spite of my ignorance, when I sat down on the floor in front of this loom, I felt at home. It was as if I was sitting down with an old friend I hadn't seen in years. I felt God smiling.
Maybe devotion to God is filling our time with the passions and talents he's given us. Maybe it pleases him to see us living the dream. Maybe worshiping him can be simply playing with the gifts he's given. Maybe church can be a quiet night alone in my workshop sitting on the floor with a loom and some yarn.