Blankies. I love ‘em. I was not a “Linus” when I was a kid. I didn’t have a special blankie to carry around with me. But now as an adult if I could get away with it…
OK. Maybe I wouldn’t, but Blankies always make me feel cozy-inside and out. If I’m feeling a bit vulnerable or sad, I cuddle up in a blankie and I feel safe and secure.
Recently I came across and old quilt of mine. It is so tattered and torn up. It brought back so many memories when I found it.
In my family, my father’s mother was called MAMAW. My Mamaw was a very special person in my life. She was 69 years old when I was born, but growing up I never knew she was “old”. She was poor in finances, but rich in love. I would stay with her for weeks in the summertime, and we would talk and talk and talk and... well, you get the picture.
We were not close because she spent money on me, or took me places. She actually had a heart condition that limited our activity together. We were close because she was available to me. Always present. Always listening to what I had to say, and never too busy to have me over so we could spend time together. She was my buddy.
She died when I was 16, and I was devastated. I still miss her. But I have something from her that allows me to feel close to her and the relationship we shared.
We were not close because she spent money on me, or took me places. She actually had a heart condition that limited our activity together. We were close because she was available to me. Always present. Always listening to what I had to say, and never too busy to have me over so we could spend time together. She was my buddy.
She died when I was 16, and I was devastated. I still miss her. But I have something from her that allows me to feel close to her and the relationship we shared.
When I was 10 years old, my mamaw made me a quilt. Like I’ve mentioned, she did not have much money, but she took the extra materials she had and pieced together a full size quilt for my 10th birthday. She also made a small one for my doll.
This was such a special gift, because my mamaw had arthritis in her hands. It was a tie quilt, so after she put all the squares together, she tied all the little knots throughout the blanket. I knew it must have taken her many hours to make, and how difficult it must have been for her hands.
The reason that quilt today is so tattered and torn up isn’t so much that it’s 27 years old, but because it was my “blankie” for years.
This was such a special gift, because my mamaw had arthritis in her hands. It was a tie quilt, so after she put all the squares together, she tied all the little knots throughout the blanket. I knew it must have taken her many hours to make, and how difficult it must have been for her hands.
The reason that quilt today is so tattered and torn up isn’t so much that it’s 27 years old, but because it was my “blankie” for years.
After she passed away, I would snuggle up in that quilt to feel close to her. It made me feel as warm and secure as she always made me feel.
My mother’s mother we called Grandma. My grandma was a quiet woman who showed love to her family in a very different way than my mamaw did. My grandma would bake pies and treats for us kids every time we would go to visit her. I was not as close to her, because she was not as open with her life. I knew she loved me, and I loved her as well, but our relationship was not close.
One thing that my grandma did to show her love for every member of her family was to crochet afghans. When any family member got married, she made them an afghan. When any family member had a baby, she made that new baby an afghan.
As an adult, I have come to understand that by making treats and blankies for her family, my grandma was telling us what she didn’t feel like she could say with words. She was telling us that we were important to her; that she valued us; that she loved us.
That was her way.
Now when I grab the afghan off the rack to cuddle up with and read, I remember her gift. I also remember that sometimes love is given in ways that are not always the way we may give love, but it's love given all the same.
This past Christmas I got a gift from my Mama(also known as my mother in law).
This woman knows me inside, outside and upside-downside. She has covered me in love through some pretty awful times in my life. She is a true treasure.
Every week she has our family along with my sister in law’s family over for dinner. Most every week, at some point after dinner, you will find many of us crashed out on Mama’s bed watching Sponge Bob or Chopped (two of the family’s favorites).
Every week prior to Christmas I had been commenting on Mama’s soft, warm, cozy blanket. If I had a particularly tough week, on Friday night after dinner, I would head straight for that bed and crawl under that cozy blanket. I was pretty certain that blanket had special powers that would snuff out every awful thing.
Yea, I know. I have issues. But most of us do, so don’t be a hater.
SO, back to this past Christmas. When I opened my gifts I found my Mama had bought me the very same cozy, soft, warm, special-powers, awful-thing-snuffing-out blanket.
I was pretty sure I heard angels singing when I tore it open.
I climb under that blankie every night. When I have a bad day, under the blankie I go and hide all of life’s yuckiness underneath. It makes me feel warm and cozy and loved.
Blankies remind me of Psalm 91:4
He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
Blankies, for me, are a physical representation of the covering of God. His protection. Our refuge. His great love for us.
What about you my faithful readers (all three of you)? What reminds you of God's protection and love?
May we all be reminded that in life's trials or just the daily grind, we are covered.
Thanks for reading.
What about you my faithful readers (all three of you)? What reminds you of God's protection and love?
May we all be reminded that in life's trials or just the daily grind, we are covered.
Thanks for reading.
