Enjoying the beauty in North Africa!

I was talking with some friends yesterday about raising children. We were discussing the different ways children find comfort. We talked about the fact that some use pacifiers, others use thumbs, and I was thinking about the role even their favorite blanket plays in their young lives.

From an early age, we often quiet our babies with pacifiers. Somehow that brings them contentment where moments before, rage seemed their best friend.

One of my children found her thumb when she was very little. She didn't think much of pacifiers. All three of my children had their favorite "blanky." I remain amazed at the calming effect these items have on getting young children to fall asleep.

I can remember watching one of my children search desperately for just the right corner of that blanket. She was frantic, until she found it. Then, p-e-a-c-e. Her whole body would relax at the realization that she had found it.

These tools...thumbs, pacifiers and blankets...serve a positive purpose in life, that is, until they are too old to be using them.

I still remember the "fight" it was to get my children to begin to go to sleep, or find comfort when upset, without these items. The thumb was the hardest. It was always there! We pleaded, we bargained, we made deals...none of that worked.

Some say we waited too long, that had we started sooner, it would have been less an issue. I don't know, maybe they are right.

I still remember when my pacifier was removed from my life! It was a most tragic an infamous day in my life.

I was three or four and my "Binky" fell behind my grandmother's dryer. I went to get my parents so they could rescue me. They wouldn't.

I tried to get my grandma to help...she wouldn't. None of the other guests would help me either. I am pretty sure they did this primarily for entertainment purposes (their own).

I remember standing with my little head smashed against the wall reaching with my little arm as far behind that dryer as I could get it, but I couldn't come close to my "salvation."

I wept. I mourned. I wanted my Binky!

As I relayed this story to my friends, I remembered 1 Cor 3. You remember the passage. It talks about still needing spiritual "milk," when we should be on solid food. It reminded me how often we tend to cling to those things that bring us comfort in our lives, when we should have been able to lay them down and walk boldly in His truth.

We often prefer comfort, over truth. We learn it from a very young age.

The truth is, I was too old for a pacifier. The reality was, I didn't care, I wanted the comfort that it brought. On that fateful day, I was forced to grow up. I wasn't quite taking on the responsibilities of a man, but I was certainly making strides in laying down that which I wanted desperately. Yeah, I know, I didn't have a choice. But I still did it.

We do have a choice today, and we need to behave as adults on solid spiritual food. The days are past when we can afford to walk around as adults who still need mother's milk to survive. The picture that conjures in my mind is a ridiculous one, yet how often is it accurate?

There may not be anyone hiding our comfort from us. There may not be anyone refusing to bail us out of our self made predicament and restoring comfort to us. It really doesn't matter. We need to embrace the truth, and walk as adults.

The truths of His Word set us free, and we no longer need the old faithful comforts to survive. We have to be willing to let them go. When we do, we begin to walk as Jesus did.

dad