Isaiah has a blanket. Mine-O-Mine. It’s soft, nubby, red, and is twice the size it was when Zay was a baby. There’s a crocheted, golden giraffe and smiling sun in the bottom corner. Nana has stitched and re-stitched these little numbers a hundred times. Sunshine used to have big, smiling eyes. But when Isaiah is tired he rubs the gnarled threads between his fingers and the eyes wore off.
Mine-O-Mine is Zay’s great comfort. His best friend. His dream come true. Last week, Isaiah caged about the kitchen for an hour while Mine-O-mine went through the wash. When the dryer buzzed, Zay rooted around inside and pulled his friend out. “There you are, My Fweet Pea.” Another day, when Samuel was sick, Zay tenderly wrapped Mine-O-Mine around his brother’s shoulders. “He will help you feel better,” he said. Just yesterday, we were cruising down the highway in Logan’s Explorer. The air conditioner wasn’t working and the windows were open wide. Mine-O-Mine was a red blur flapping in the wind. “If he flies out the window,” Zay said, “I will die in terror.”
For Isaiah, there is nothing better in the world. Mine-O-Mine is better than pbj’s. Better than swinging high as the trees. Better than Smurf ice cream at Whitey’s.
When I see Isaiah’s grand love for his blanket, I’m excited for his developing love of the Lord. I can’t wait for him to claim the Living God as his rescuer. His strength. His comfort. His joy.
And it’s coming. I catch glimpses when Isaiah prays. Or remembers a Bible story. Or tells me something about Jesus.
There will be a day when Mine-O-Mine will be pressed and folded, forgotten, tucked away in a chest. But Zay’s love for the Lord will last forever.
Grace and mercy.
Little boys and blankets.
God’s love endures forever.