Losing the Blanket of Protection (& Other Linus Lessons)

In my pre-child days, when I was the perfect parent who knew everything about raising children, I was a little put off by Linus and the whole unhealthy attachment to his blankie thing.

And considering that by the first week of Motherhood, I had already gone back on everything I said I would "never do when I have children", it's only fitting that a lovey entered the picture.

In the early days, Park had 3 blankies that I tried to rotate. Careful to give each one equal opportunity at winning his affection, I was buying into the plan that he should not get overly attached to one in particular. Just in case, bite my tongue, something bad should ever happen to it.

And although genius in theory, I gave up after a single Bear Lovey swooped in and stole his heart.

The lovey in question became a trusted companion, while the others were left by the wayside. Even, Car Lovey, who is deemed acceptable while inside a moving vehicle, is carelessly tossed aside when Bear Lovey is offered as a viable option. (Are you feeling the creativity of the blankie names yet?)

Time for Plan B.

Ask the sweet friend who purchased Bear Lovey as a baby shower gift to reveal the name of the store where I could find an "in case of emergency" duplicate.

Mission accomplished, store name in hand, and off I went to pull the fur over my son's eyes retrieve the twin bear.

Slight problem.

Who knew a blankie could feed a small village? My heart stopped and I passed out when I learned the value of this tiny treasure. Let's just say Bear Lovey did not come with a small price tag, folks.

Moving on to Plan C.

Guard Bear Lovey with my life and never let her out of my sight.

But even so, I couldn't protect her. Her once elegant texture is now weathered and worn. Her soft velvet fur is matted by the tongue of a sweet boy that strangely takes comfort in licking her. Her body, once sewn tightly to its pristine white blankie, hangs tattered and dirty from being drug through each new adventure.

The ironic thing is, these two have bonded best in times of turmoil. Park finds little use for her when wrapped in my comforting arms or basking in my attention. But in the still of night, while alone in his bed, she means everything to him. In a position of desperate need, their relationship is strengthened. When I leave him in the church nursery or when he is upset that I have told him no, her ears sacrifice their fur to ease his sorrow and share in his trials.

Regardless of her current imperfections or her past price tag, Bear Lovey is trusted, treasured, and relied upon because of her scars.

Thanks to some help from the Holy Spirit and the Bible Study I'm taking, I've come to realize, it is neither feasible nor necessary to guard those things most precious to me. As much as I want to protect the people God has entrusted to my care, the reality is, it is through the pain that they will come to rely upon Him.

Part of intimately belonging to Jesus is sharing in His suffering, and without it, the relationship is incomplete. And though it does not come with a small price tag, difficulties strengthen faith. Through the scars we come to REALLY know Jesus, so we can trust, treasure and rely upon Him with all our heart.

And as much as I want those I love to be free from suffering, I'd rather them be in the Desert with Him than in the Promised Land without Him.

Maybe poor Linus deserves an apology.