I know that many of you, as have I, have donated various items of handcraft to soldiers currently in country in Iraq and Afghanistan. Ever since World War I, there have been initiatives like Knit Your Bit from the Red Cross. Actually, knitting for soldiers started even earlier than that, but that’s another story for another day.

But here’s a story about quilting and war. It’s about how a mother and daughter started an Iraq quilting bee for soldiers who have since learned various handcrafts. In the video below, there’s also a photo a light blue elephant crocheted by a very manly looking doctor in uniform, and the story of how this was started.

What I like best about this story was that it not only showed how a tiny idea (a soldier in Iraq requesting fabric from her mother) can grow into something bigger, but it also showed how sometimes (religion aside) there’s both a need and an interest in picking up something like crochet or quilting where you least expect it.

Instead of making something for the soldiers to use as comfort, this particular project uses craft itself as the comfort. And this perfectly dovetails with some thoughts I’ve been struck with lately… how sometimes the act/lesson of craft itself can be a more apt gift than the final product and how new valuable (for others not just ourselves!) projects can find us if we’re willing to just listen and be present.

I don’t know about you, but usually when I start something so small I feel like it’s useless, I’m focusing on the wrong end of the stick (the needle? the hook?). I’m focusing on what I think it will give vs. focusing on the joy and excitement and energy the project itself brings.

I forget how letting go of the outcome allows projects the room to fully expand and go where they need to. So today, here, is a little reminder to follow the joy your work brings… and to honor the work itself by giving it the space and the trust to change, move and grow.