Showing my boys their tattered blankets from birth was a great opportunity and attempt at embarrassing them!
Pulling a faded, worn and ripped blanket from a baggie to hand to my second child brought chuckles of memory from his Dad and I and half hearted laughter from him. "I'm putting in your tote," I explained. "Why? I'm not that attached anymore," he retorted.
Fingering each worn blanket flooded this Mom's mind and heart with memories. The quilt that was our oldest son's blanket had batting hanging in every which direction. His Dad and I remembering the games of hide and seek and snuggles by the heater on early cold mornings.
The second blanket was torn in half with the silk edging completely missing. His Dad used to tease him with it, "my binky," he would say. I can just see the blanket wrapped around his thumb and carried over his stick horse.
The third blanket was chosen by his brother's. Very colorful zoo with orders to Grandma to put a big silky edge on it. I could picture those giant blue eyes peeking out from under it or his brothers teasing him with it.
My boys moved on from these flimsy pieces of security that helped them transition when we moved and cuddled them on cold nights. They learned that their security was in those relationships around them and the binkeys found themselves left behind more and more often until they lay forgotten in a hope chest.
The lesson for me is clear. I need to be careful of what I find security in. Am I still carting around a tattered and worn blanket of self sufficiency and independence and pride?
What am I hanging onto out of fear that is torn and of no use spiritually, relationally, mentally, emotionally and physically?
Maybe as I let go of the security blankets of baby boys and put them into totes for their future families, it is time for me to let go of any false security in my life.
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