Blankets and Names

I lost my son's blanket today. What misery. I wish I wanted anything as much as I wanted to find that blanket. I probably want those Reese's peanut butter eggs that much. Maybe not even those. Oh Lord, I was desperate.

I was praying out loud. Over and over. People heard me, saw me. I was a crazed woman. I was frantic and I was rushing because I was sure that someone terrible had stolen it, trashed it, hidden it from me. I can hear the paranoia too; it's not just you.

But there it was. Sitting on the bench at the park, exactly where I had left it. Exactly where my two year old son had tried to give it to a six month old baby. He is a bird in the air. He does not worry about where he will eat or where he will sleep. He flies, he sings. He trusts me.

And he is so unaware of how bad it would really be to give away his blankie, his Bay. He doesn't consider his future needs. He just sees a baby and wants to comfort her, make her feel good, well, cozy, at peace.

His name means 'peace' and I see him walking in that birthright all the time. My name means 'temple, house.' I am sturdy, immovable, supported, framed, steady. I hate change. Big ol' house.

Of God. God has many names. Most are the ones we gave Him. We are still naming Him.

I call Him Blanket Giver.

Peace Giver.

Did He just see me and want to comfort me, make me feel good and well and cozy and at peace?He left it right where I would find it. He gives away so many things.

I wish I could be more like my son. Give away and remain at peace. Can I inherit the best characteristics of my children from my children?

I wonder if God ever inherits anything from us.