I’m two days late for Five Minute Friday, but have grace … I just thought of this today.

So I’m a mess these days. But you all know that already. What you might not know is this … the language of love I speak is acts of service. Which is a blessing and struggle in days like these. Let’s face it … I don’t have a whole lot to give outside of keeping these babes fed and clothed on a daily basis. {With the latter being optional on more than one occasion}.

But the Lord, He has mercy on me and when I am drowning, I have learned that giving to others is most often a life raft for me. 

Psalm 82:3 and Micah 6:8 {see side bar} serve as the foundation for a way of life I want my children to know and love. I still don’t know how it looks for us … {And by the way, read this … for some folks, it looks like s&!T and it’s beautiful} … It feels like it is getting lost in the trenches of motherhood.

… So how do I marry the churning of the washing machine and the roar of the minivan with my desire to serve others?

Well, I thought of something this morning while I was in church this morning-my oldest wrapped around me, the babe in my arms-one screaming toddler away from a complete breakdown. Holding back the tears.

And I need your help.  

A dear friend in my church is throwing a baby shower for the new mothers currently supported and mentored by the crisis pregnancy center in my town. Many {not all} of these women rely on the center to provide a large portion of the necessities surrounding a new wee babe.

I was mulling over the list of needs – items to purchase for the shower – mentally rearranging my budget, {who I am I kidding, totally going to blow the budget for this one}, when one small request arrested my eyes.

Newborn caps. Such a simple thing. But for me, a life raft. Mercy to be given as it is  given to me.

I have three children. Each one has received, as a newborn, multiple handmade gifts. Blankets. Hats. Sweaters. Love poured out in each stitch. They are worn, treasured, and carefully set away in the never-ever-throw-away-box-no-matter-how-many-times-we-move. They tell the stories of communities forged across continents. Friendships we cherish, lives we love.

I want each of these new mothers to have an intentional, handmade gift for the life they chose. Something as small as a newborn cap, hand-knitted with love … or crocheted, I am equal opportunity.

I want each stitch to be a prayer of gratitude and hope for the little one who will wear it. 

So … this is twofold:

One: Local people and fast yarn workers … the shower is next Thursday, September 19. I will be there with at least three handmade caps. {I crochet fast, and the Husband is away}. I would LOVE to have more. If you are capable of producing one hat in a week, I will come and get it from you {local folks} … or you can mail it to me if you are a fast worker.

Please, simply pin a small tag to the hat with the size, your name and state, and a word or two. {For example, mine will read, With love and prayers, Molly, TN}. It will also help to include care instructions for the yarn.

Two: I would REALLY love to give them {Hope Pregnancy Center} a big fat box for Christmas full of a hundred hats. Or more. But my goal is one hundred. So, if you are not fast, or just really busy, maybe you could make me a hat for Christmas. Mail it to me and I will deliver it to them.

And I’m not picky … feel free to branch out into booties, sweaters, or even blankets if you feel extra generous and you have free time. {I’m sorry, I just laughed out loud at the thought of having free time.}

It would be AMAZING. And spread the word. Re-post. Tweet. Share with your yarn-loving friends. I’m counting on you.

It seems small, this life raft of mine, but I am floating. 

~M.

{Please contact me privately at thehugginsmiddle(at)gmail(dot)com for a mailing address.}

Wee Man in his overalls. {Okay I made those, but it’s late and I can’t take a picture of his blankets right now. I will tomorrow, I promise.}

The J Girl circa 2007 with a yellow blanket crocheted by my honorary grandmother. {And holy cow, Second Son looks like her.}