When Rhema was younger, she had a little stuffed dog that served as her security blanket. She would cling to it, hug it, coo to it, and alternately flap and chew on its ears.
Like all comfort objects, it served the purpose of being that familiar thing she could hold onto in the midst of change and uncertainty; it provided a sense of security and safety. Rhema loved that doggie to pieces, literally.
As time drew near for us to return to the States, the doggie thing grew increasingly threadbare. I tried mending it several times, but also began to search for a replacement; I wanted Rhema to have her doggie for the upcoming move but I didn’t know if the stinky old thing would last. A mega search ensued with me fruitlessly driving an hour back to the store in Germany where I had originally found it, chiding myself for not buying two of them way back when. I searched the Internet for a doggie just like Rhema’s, the lettering on the tag had worn out. (I knew that if I found a new one, Rhema might not accept it, but my plan was to rough up the new one a bit – take a bat to it, spill some juice on it, repeatedly throw it against the wall, drool on it, Mike Tyson it). I never found another doggie for Rhema, so the old one came with us when we traveled home.
Autumn always reminds me of patterns of change. The children are getting older, we’re preparing for another winter. Even as much as Rhema craves sameness and adheres to routines, she is growing into a tall child whose interests are quickly shifting. Many of the things that finally seemed to work for her at school and home do so no longer, and I feel myself scrambling to find new ways to motivate her, new ways to teach and reach her.
My comfort object in the midst of change is
This Bible has been with me since my college days. There have been times in my life where I so desperately needed the Word of Life that I would sleep with it on my pillow. I find that when I search the pages I can literally feel the warmth of a security blanket wrapped round my soul. Like Rhema’s doggie, I have tried repairing my Bible, but it always ends up mending me.
The basic meaning of the Biblical word comfort is a “calling to one’s side.” The idea for me is that the God of all comfort, the God of the Universe, is One that I can call to my side! Boggles the mind! But He has proven faithful to be with me; His presence a comfort in times of change and uncertainty, in times of fear, in times of sorrow.
Like Rhema’s doggie, there is simply no replacement. I find that I must treasure it, hang onto it by a thread…
hug it to my heart and never let it go.
Current verses of comfort:
This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope. It is of the LORD’S mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness. The LORD is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him. Lam. 3:21-24
I will turn their mourning into gladness;
I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow. Jer 31:13
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back from captivity. Jer 29:11-14
For he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.
So that we may boldly say, The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear…