I didn’t know how attached he was to it until I pulled it from the crib one day and laid him down on it. He started rolling around on it grabbing its ruffled corners, lulling himself into blanket bliss.
Paul’s blanket was similar. I had learned my lesson with how to help babies attached to a security object. Even though I was his main security object, he loved his blanket just as much.
Grace’s blanket was lavender, with plenty of satin. Luke’s, blue, white and black paisley with, yes, plenty of satin.
Blankets of prayer have covered my children since they were born. While I was sewing each of them, I didn’t know who they were, whether they were going to be a boy or a girl.
Psalm 51:10 “Create in me a clean heart, O God, And renew a steadfast spirit within me.”
The prayer we cover our children with from the time they are born is powerful. We attach our feelings of concern, desperation and praise. God honors the prayers of mothers. I know it. I’ve seen way too many to know otherwise.
Blankets soothe. But prayer changes lives.
Children grow up. Our prayers don’t stop.
