My sewing room is in great shape. The patterns are nicely tucked into a basket, the elastic is nestled in a drawer. Children who want fabric in any color of the rainbow know where to find them. The felt is sorted on a shelf. It makes me happy. 

There were eight or ten classes this summer, with a couple or three children each time. Gone are the days of sprawling groups, and long waits for me to thread a needle. I have a close watch over each student, and his or her progress. There have been a parade of pillows, doll blankets, and well dressed bears. We even managed to finish right about the time their mothers drove up. I do have a few stalling techniques up my sleeve. 

"Now pin those two pieces together."

Even if it is a three inch seam, that step can busy a five year old for quite some time. I can also hurry up the process by cutting for them, or finishing on the machine what we might have done by hand. 

But this does not mean that the room stays tidy. Some children who will remain anonymous tend to, let's just say, be fickle. They tug out a swath of pink from the middle of the stack, creating a cascade onto the floor. After snipping for a bit they decide to make a cape instead. With purple.

When we need a length of thread I ask a child to cut a piece as long as her arm. This is taken seriously, as she measures the whiff of filament from fingertip to shoulder. Which is hard to do. I choose that because it is usually enough to close up the hole in a stuffed pillow, but not so long as to mimic a spider's web.

"This piece is as long as a giant's arm!" one girl exclaimed as the thread unspooled across the floor. Another child was exploring the lace, leaving white lines around the room like jet trails after the Blue Angels.  

"Where are the scissors?" another inquires. I think but do not say that there were eight pairs in the basket when they arrived, but now they are hiding under lily pads of cloth. 

One child who was thrilled to have free access to cutting tools tried out the skill on everything in sight. I whisked my own half finished project away just in time.

"It's messy in here," a girl commented. Not unkindly, but still it rubbed me against the nap.

"Would you please gather up the ribbons and put them back on the shelf?" I asked. Which to a child is less of a chore and more like fun. Because you get to touch them all. 

God has been generous. Each of us are invited into the private room of Create a Relationship. We are surrounded by every conceivable tool: patience, listening, compassion, prayer. Yet it doesn't take long for us to make things complicated, and then blame God for the mess.