The Boo Boo Sock

It's a family thing.  Kiddos must have one when boo boos occur.  Even the boo needs a boo boo sock.  A "boo" is when a boo boo is so small, and sometimes invisible, that it can only properly be called a "boo."  My father-in-law came up with that.  

Last summer, my rambunctious 18 month-old boy spent his first summer playing outside.  I fretted over putting shorts on him to my friend, a mom of two early elementary boys, to which she replied, "He's going to skin his knees.  It's just going to happen.  Let it happen.  He's a boy."  So on went the shorts and off he went.  That week, he scraped the same knee 5 times.  It was a yucky mess.  One of those boo boos a parent can hardly bear to look at, let alone clean and bandage it.  The biggest problem was that he wouldn't let me put a band-aid on it, period.  So he kept scraping it open because it was unprotected.  Sorry for the graphic details here, but it's essential to the story.  After several days of not being able to protect this gaping wound, mommy ingenuity kicked in.  I wondered if something as soft and comfortable as a sock would be acceptable to my son, so I raided my husband's sock drawer and found a few old, worn-out candidates.  I cut off a sock at the heel to make a straight tube and carefully slid it on my son's leg, much to his delight.  It was washable, comfortable, free - and it protected his boo boo, allowing it time to heal.  I was ecstatic!  The boo boo sock was invented, and is now a beloved part of the family.

When I think of my relationship with God, I realize there are times when I have spiritual, emotional, mental boo boos that I refuse to let anyone soothe.  I refuse to let them heal.  I am stubborn about it, and I am obviously wrong to hold on to it, as everyone else can see, but I stand there, mulish and proud...and suffering.

What does it take for us to hand over the healing to God?  When do we let our guard down and let him soothe our aching sores?

For me, it's when I've come to the end of my resources.  I have no more strength, money, time, or desire to continue.  When I am at the end of myself, I finally let him come in.  And he rescues me, every time.  What takes me so long?  Why do I do that, again and again?  Why can't I remember that he will take care of me?  All I have to do is trust him.  Is trust that hard?  The faith of a child?  Well...yes.  It is!  I want to be in control.  I am an adult.  I take care of three children all day - I need to at least know what I'm doing.  Ugly.  Pride.  I know I need to give it up, but it's so hard!

That's when I remember this:

 "Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." 1 Peter 5:7