As a child, I was inseparable from my slinky. (Just to clarify, my slinky is not a spiral, metal toy. It is the equivalent of a blanket.)
My slinky and I went everywhere together. I had to have my slinky in order for me to go to sleep. It was nothing more than a dirty (because mom could barely pry it away from me to wash it) yellow piece of fabric, but it was my security blanket. It was my comfort.
Although I’ve graduated from the constant need for my slinky, I’ve not completely lost my desire for “comforts.” It’s all too easy for me to turn to food as a crutch to make me feel better. Chocolate and ice cream can cure most of my woes. Or shopping. There’s nothing like finding a good deal to perk up my day.
Forgive me, Lord, for turning to tangible things instead of You…
“May your unfailing love be my comfort, according to your promise to your servant.”