“Pinkyyyyyy! I want Pinkyyyyyyy!”
My youngest is a loud child anyway. But when she starts wailing…
well, I wonder whether earplugs might be a good investment.
And yet, I couldn’t help but sympathize with her. She was devastated because I had taken away her beloved Pinky.
The way she was carrying on, one would think I had removed the smallest digit on her hand, rather than the small but well-loved piece of fabric she had slept with since infancy.
I probably wouldn’t mind if she held on to Pinky longer. But Pinky seems to be tied pretty closely with thumb-sucking for my four-year-old sweet girl. And the thumb-sucking needs to stop.
That, and said four-year-old often loses Pinky in the middle of the night, resulting in…
you guessed it: wailing. Loud enough to wake. The. Dead.
The thing is, she loves Pinky, and she is quite certain that she can’t sleep without it. Pinky is what she looks for when she’s bored. It’s what she turns to when she’s sad. It’s what she clings to when she’s mad. Pinky has helped her cope through many heartaches and fears.
In short, Pinky has become a crutch. An object my daughter imagines she can’t survive without. Something that claims my girl’s dependency.
And after enduring that first of many tantrums my daughter threw in her vain attempts to get Pinky back, I started thinking about how she’s really not that different from most adults I know…myself included.
None of us would ever sing, “In coffee alone, my hope is found.”
(I feel blasphemous even writing that sentence.)
Yet I wonder if that’s the exact impression I gave my oldest daughter when she saw me kissing the single remaining K-cup in my favorite flavor this morning. (What can I say? I thought we were out.)
Or when my monthly “must-have-chocolate” obsession strikes.
Or what about when I’ve had a tough day and I just want to escape into a good book?
No, none of these things are wrong in and of themselves. I want to make that absolutely clear.
It’s more about where my heart is. Where my security lies. Where my dependency clings.
I’m happy to report that my little one has been managing to sleep without Pinky with no trouble. She barely even asks for it anymore. And with that big step, she has become just a little more mature.
I wonder what habits are hindering my own heights of spiritual maturity.
O Lord, open our eyes and convict our spirits of those things that replace You as our strongest craving, our fiercest desire, and our only dependency! May our souls thirst for you alone! May we share this testimony with David:
For God alone my soul waits in silence; from Him comes my salvation.
He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken.
For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from Him.
He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken. (Psalm 62)