My daughter has a fuzzy blanket that she loves. It was gifted to me, actually, years before she was born. But it sat neatly folded up at the bottom of our blanket pile. I wasn’t a big fan of the color pattern, and I am privileged enough to have enough blankets to be picky. One day, somehow, it caught her toddler eye, and perhaps because of its colorfulness, she knew it was hers. It has been her companion since then. Not like a Linus sort of way where she carries it everywhere. It’s just her constant first choice. AND, she can’t sleep without out – or so she tells her weary and bemused parents. It goes with her to overnights with her grandparents. It went with her on family vacation to Mexico.
Buuuuuut…. she sleeps on the top bunk. As with old-school bunk beds, she has to climb a ladder to get to her bed. But the blanket never stays in her bed during the day. She uses it to make forts or her “nests”, and it’s the only blanket to curl up in and watch an episode or two of Bluey or Clifford. So, when it comes to bedtime and it’s time to climb the slippery, wooden, ladder, she’s left with a bit of a scary conundrum. How to get the blanket up the ladder without tripping over this blanket, or it causing her to tumble and fall? It is, after all, a blanket large enough to cover a twin bed, with space to spare. It gets underfoot easily.
Sometimes, if she’s tired enough, she’ll let me put it on the bed for her. Sometimes I sneak it up there while she’s doing her bedtime routine. But, often, she has the blanket and refuses to let anyone help her. And so she treks up the wooden, slippery ladder, holding on with one hand, while the other wrestles with her beloved blanket, dragging it up beside her.
A couple nights ago, as I watched her, I wondered what I’m carrying up my ladder that either I don’t need, or that my heavenly Father would place in my bed for me so I didn’t have to risk my limbs getting it up there.
I’m a fiercely independent woman – I had to learn to be growing up, and I haven’t figured out how to give that up yet – even after five years of being married to a wonderful, patient, incredibly smart and competent man. It’s not that I don’t want to give it up, it’s that doing something by myself is such a part of me, I don’t realize I’m pushing him away until after.
But, even if it IS after, I AM beginning to realize, and apparently that’s “half the battle” as the saying goes. But…I need to realize it in the moment. And then, I need to have the space within myself to take the breath and ask for help. These are huge steps for me. Steps I want to take to let go of my blanket, but steps I am not exactly sure how to start. Prayer, of course. And surrender. And thankfulness. I’m starting there. I guess we’ll see what God asks after that.
Father God is, after all, a wonderful blanket holder. I know I can trust Him and those He’s placed in my life (like my warrior husband) to hold my blankets. But I have to learn the discipline of letting go.
In His Chrysalis 