I put the zipper in last night, and near the bottom it got a little willy-nilly before I got control of it again, so I figured it'd be all buckled up when I pulled it out, but miraculously it was fine. I said, "The Lord is my seamstress!" (Yeah, I talk to God - see The Cruel Shorts post from 9/14/09) Well that started me thinking, and here's what I've worked out over the past 18 hours. The punctuation and capitalization are from the NIV.
The Lord is my seamstress, I shall not rip.
He makes my darts lie down without bubbling,
he leads my zipper foot close to the coils,
he restores my confidence.
He guides me in paths of good fabric selection
for his name's sake.
Even though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of stretchy knits,
I will fear no wavy seams,
for you are with me;
your Brother PC-420 and your walking foot,
they comfort me.
You provide a tall cutting table before me
in the presence of my backache.
You anoint my sewing machine with oil;
my bobbin overflows.
Surely sewing mojo and an automatic needle threader will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will sew in the house of the Lord