No, not really...it wasn't the blanket itself, its who gave it to me that made instant water works and heart clenching as I went through my totes down in the basement to search for toys and ended up throwing some things away. You see, my grandmother gave me that blanket the last Christmas she was alive. It was all I wanted that year...and I got it from her. And then, less than a month later, she passed away. I'm sobbing as I sit here and type. And yet, I know its good for me, but it hurts all the same time. I'm reminded of the lyrics to a song, that although its taken total out of context, its so true in my heart...
"Time on my hands could be time spent with you"
I guess thats why they call it the blues by Elton John
(recently song by my guy Paul on American Idol)
But what is really singing in my heart is that the time I spend grieving and wishing that blanket would bring my grandmother back...is time I could be spending with my Lord and Savior who will NEVER leave me. I should be clinging to the cross instead of clinging to that silly blanket.
Father God, Thank you for this smack in the face realization that I am clinging on to way too much stuff stashed away where its "safe" in the basement instead of letting go and falling arms outstretched into your glorious arms. You are so wonderful. I praise you for this heart-aching pruning!
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