We interrupt this knitblog for a moment of eastertide reflection.

I read about a "diamond in the rough" story recently and thought about how people rarely get tired of hearing them. We embrace them as a justification of the mistakes we make or the hardships we’re dealt. Sometimes they act as a seasoning of hope for a bitter present. We often imagine that someone we know will be the next example of success or greatness; we hope that “someone” will be us.

But in the post-Resurrection days that the church is now celebrating, my thoughts have been hovering around the way Jesus died and the others dying in his company. And I thought about how God’s brand of love seems to fall pretty equally on the diamond-in-the-making-Davids—from shepherd’s field to king’s throne—and the criminals hanging beside Jesus—those who live and die on a cross they by all accounts deserve, only crying out, “Lord, save me.” I’ve always been amazed and comforted by this exchange of words, where one asks for mercy and the other very simply bestows it. No acts of penance required. No rebuke given. Just an exchange of grace. Some days that idea is about all I know to hold on to.