The sewing room was busy this week. That is an explanation for why there was fabric strewn across the floor, and five pairs of scissors not returned to their safe harbor on the shelf. This is the natural consequence of creating pajama pants, and stuffed giraffes, and yet I need to remedy the chaos before the next children arrive. 

One of my sewing students was  especially inquisitive. Our relationship is new, and we are still figuring out how this works. While I am generally a fan of questions, I sometimes wish that we could simply do the stitches in front of us, without worrying about the steps that will show up in twenty minutes. It is hard to explain the waist band when we are still pinning the side seams. I suppose I have not yet earned his trust that I have been designing garments since before he was born. Maybe it will come with time. 

When I think about the complaints disguised as questions that I throw at God like so many darts, I wonder if I have not learned to believe in Him. Rather than tending to the task that is mine today, I anticipate the string of what ifs. My mind races ahead, like a stone skipping on the water. 

"If they don't get a job, they will not have insurance. If they don't have insurance they will probably need to go to the hospital. If they can't pay their medical bills they will have to ...." and the calamities peter out across the lake.

As it happens, God has been creating- and protecting- His children since before I was born.