I’ve always enjoyed crafts, especially during the Christmas season. Growing up, it was an annual tradition for me to stitch, fold, glue, macramé, paint or otherwise create various small items for decorating or giving as gifts. My mother’s 50-year collection of tree ornaments alone is a testament to the different phases of my crafting career.

As an adult, however, different circumstances have periodically depleted my enthusiasm for this past-time. For the last several years, in fact, I had not been able to summon even the desire to pull out any of my crafting materials, much less create anything by hand. What would usually be a fun and soul-enriching activity was pushed to the bottom of the priorities list by the pull of other, seemingly more important “shoulds.”

I didn’t realize just how much I had missed the experience of creating until I attended a local craft bazaar last month. While there I found some gifts, but more important, I also found the inspiration to try my hand at something of my own making again. This month I am back in creating mode; although it’s on a smaller scale than in years past, I still feel the same joy in making something by hand.

Today, however, I realize a deeper truth. The joy that comes from crafting something with my own hands, while lovely, may be fleeting. The joy that comes from creating space in my life to connect with the Divine, meanwhile, will endure forever.

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