What's Your Blankie?

When I was a little girl I had a favorite pink blanket. A blankie, to be precise. It had a satin trim I would rub between my fingers when I needed consoling.  When I went off to kindergarten, my blankie stayed home, and my teacher noticed me rubbing my fingers back and forth.  She asked my parents during a conference and mom figured out it was me missing my blanket, needing a little consoling.

I still love blankets. My husband got me a grown up blanket. A "napping blanket" which is really like a grown up excuse for a blanket, but it is the softest thing in the house. My kids will often times climb into bed with me in the morning and cover up with it.  I tell my hubs he probably regrets giving it to me.  It lays between us. I tell him it's our natural birth control method. He doesn't laugh.  I've since folded it up and put it over a chair in our room.  Blankie turned accent throw.  I'm slowly trying to grow up.

I use blankets year round. I am typing this blog under, you guessed it, a blanket. It's hot as heck sometimes and I just cover up and relax.  Sometimes sweat.  No biggie. I'm comfy.

What's your blankie?  You have one, I know it. You might not blog about it or be willing to admit it to strangers. (I've already blogged about my panties in Spain so what the hello kitty.  We're all good.)
With events like what happened in Boston, I am shaken.  Having kids takes this to another level.  There are so many dangers in life.  What or who are you clinging to?

I want to hug the victims. Each and every one of them. I want to hug them and tell them I love them.  Because I don't have access to them, I pray for them, their families, their doctors.  My general sense is lots of Americans feel this way.  But, you know what?  Operating in my day to day life since the bombings, people seem nicer. Today during lunch hour, in the most irritable grocery store I go to, people smiled. They let each other through. Someone helped me carry my groceries instead of just sitting, waiting on her friend. (Now maybe I'll blog about this sometime, but this was the grocery store where a man came after me screaming for backing my minivan out too slowly.  True story.  Crazy stuff at this one. I think the parking spaces are too skinny. But it's most likely because it's across from the "other" university.  I'm generally a better person closer to lighter shades of blue.  I am sort of kidding.)  Perhaps we are putting down our differences and finding common ground, so to speak.  We are all humans, feeling the same cautious way.

I think God wants us to live wildly.  He tells us over and over in Scripture to not be afraid.  Be courageous.  The scariest thing I can think of is eternity in hell.  Living in Christ, walking with Jesus, I am secure.  He goes before me.  He prepares a place for me.  My true citizenship is in heaven.  I am here but for a tiny little while, in comparison to eternity.  And God has numbered my days.  Now, I am not sure about the whole predestination/ free will aspect of life.  I have heard it explained that God's sovereignty and our wills as humans are like two sides of a roof on a house, they meet in the clouds, and we are unclear how or to what effect they have in the end.  I do know he extends kindness to us by answering prayers.  So I pray for the world, our leaders, our nation, my community, my family, my faith.  He is in control and there are no surprises with God.

I love this quote by Stonewall Jackson.  "My religious belief teaches me to feel as safe in battle as in bed.  I do not concern myself about that, but to always be ready, no matter when it may overtake me."

I don't know the immediate future.  But I want to be known by God as his daughter, fearless fighter, loving wildly, and taking leaps of faith.  Because if I fall, it's in his arms.  And, I am pretty sure he has a blankie for me waiting in heaven when I get there.