sustain:if:able kiwi

making a single sock and the work of academic writing

I’ve just knitted my first ever sock. I’m feeling very pleased.

This sock is the result of several years of effort. A few years ago, I was given a book of knitted sock patterns. The book came with a bookmark carefully inserted, suggesting a place to start. So I brought the wool and began to knit.

But I’m a slow knitter. And I tend to pause when I get to tricky bits, especially tricky bits where I might need help from others, who might not currently be available. (My partner is a much more experienced knitter than I and a very helpful voice of calm when I find my knitting tricky).

So this week, after nearly 2 and a half years, I have knitted my first sock. While there were months of no knitting, often related to a tricky part approaching, it is clear that knitting socks is – for my slow fingers – a long and slow labour of love.

However socks come in pairs. And so amid the elation of completing a first sock, is the realisation that I am only half way there. It is a strange thing to feel both pleased and daunted and both at the same time.

This week I also submitted a 2,000 word conference presentation. It began as a possible idea in December 2025, 250 words submitted from a hotel room in Rwanda. Then a few weeks ago, I carved out a few hours and realised the data I was working with was far richer than I had remembered. Then a week ago, I carve out another few hours and realised that I could adapt a theoretical framework from some earlier writing.

So this week I completed a sock and 2,000 word conference presentation. These milestones got me pondering how knitting is like writing.

The data for the conference presentation comes from analysing 12 interviews from my Ordinary knitters research project. I was working with interviews from 2019 through to 2024. Five years! The theoretical framework comes from reading done in 2012, which became part of my First Expressions book published with SCM in 2019.

So the conference words are also slow words. And the Ordinary knitters research project is something I hope to turn into a book. Of which I have about 40,000 words, of a possible 80,000 word book project.

So I’m half way to a book and half way to a pair of socks. I’m feeling pleased with progress, yet daunted by progress. At this stage, I can learn about writing from the processes of knitting.

Both writing and knitting are projects too big to do in a single burst. But one stitch, repeated, makes a row. One row, repeated, makes a leg.

praying with wool and coin for others (working with Luke 15:1-10)

I was preaching and leading worship on Sunday. The Bible text was Luke 15:1-10, the shepherd who looks for one lost sheep and the woman who looks for one lost coin. Sitting with the two parables, I was struck by the value of sheep and coins. They were significant assets in first century Israel. I wanted the value inherent in these lost things to shape how we prayed.

Hence my prayers for others began by handing out wool (snippets from the end of some balls of wool) and coins (chocolate wrapped in gold foil). Each person was invited to take some wool and a coin.

Then we prayed for others. Here are my words.

Let us pray. As we begin, I invite us to hold our wool. With our eyes closed I invite us to consider how we always see sheep in flocks. Sheep like other sheep. Sheep get very anxious when they are separated from their flock.

Today we pause in silence and think of people we know who might be anxious, who might feel separated from other people and isolated from community.

We ask that they would know that you seek them, look for them and that we would be a community that rejoices when they are found.

As we continue to pray, I invite us to swap our wool for our coin. As we hold our coin, I invite us to consider how coins have value. They are an asset to be treasured. They allow us to have choices and make decisions. Coins empower us.

Today we pause in silence and think of people we know who need to feel valued and be empowered. It might be us. It might be others.

We ask that you would seek them, look for them, and that we would be a community that rejoices when they feel valued and empowered.

With wool and coins, we thank that you value the lost, the anxious and those who feel a long way from home. Thanks that in Jesus Christ you seek us and look for us and call us and welcome us home.

We love. We praise you. We bless you.

Help us as a congregation to celebrate your love and welcome in God’s presence forever.
We pray in the name of the good shepherd and the searching woman. Amen.

knitting is gendered

With Tom Daley knitting at the Paris Olympics, 3 years on from his knitting at the Tokyo Olympics, there is a fascinating article in The Conversation:

Knitting helps Tom Daley switch off. Its mental health benefits are not just for Olympians

The article notes the benefits of knitting for wellbeing and for community. The article also names the gendered nature of knitting. Knitting is an activity, usually done by older women, and normally at home. Each of these three reasons – wellbeing, community and gender – are reasons why I’m researching Ordinary knitters – people who have knitted for church projects. I am seeking to understand what happens when an activity, associated with women, is taken from the home to public places as an expression of Christian witness.

To date I’ve interviewed over 50 people, including people who have knitted Christmas angels to yarnbomb in their neighbourhoods, climate scarves to give to politicians and LOUDfence strawberries to express solidarity with survivors of church abuse. Given that only two of my participants have been male, knitting is clearly gendered.

What is fascinating is how in different ways, a hobby that is domestic and private is being made public. There is Christmas love made visible in streets and parks, concerns for future generations expressed in politicians offices and the secrecy that surrounds abuse made visible in public places. Knitting becomes a way for women to express a public theology.