Personalized Stuffed Animal

I am not ashamed of the fact that I still sleep with a stuffed animal. (I also still drink from plastic cups and watch cartoons on occasion.) In fact, I proudly display Mr. Bojangles in the center of my bed every morning. I wasn’t a huge stuffed animal junkie when I was a child but soon after my parents got divorced, I received a large stuffed rabbit for Easter. One night when I was exceptionally sad, I took my rabbit to bed with me because he fit perfectly around my torso and I could hug him tightly all night long. My family had been divided and I felt alone and scared. My pain had begun to take a toll on me physically and emotionally and the adults of my life were convinced that I was receiving appropriate counseling and on the road to recovery. I, however, only shared my true hurts my deepest pain, and my vast amounts of tears with an oversized stuffed rabbit alone at night in my bed. I slept with my rabbit until I was in high school. I don’t remember how we finally parted ways but I do know that during my high school days; I was too rebellious for everyone, even my rabbit. (For some reason, I never found it appropriate to name my stuffed rabbit) When I was a freshman in college, I again found myself in a situation where my pain had taken a toll on me physically and emotionally. But this time, I didn’t have adults forcing me into counseling. After many months of pure brokenness, I met a girl who became more than my counselor; she became my very best friend. After many late night talks, I found myself starring at a drawing of a tree and I realized that I needed to release my deepest hurts and vast amounts of tears. So I did. I sat on my dorm room floor holding a pillow and cried for many hours. That year for Easter, my best friend who had saved my life months earlier, bought me a stuffed dog. I had never mentioned the constant comfort I found in my stuffed rabbit when I was a child to anyone until now. So when I read her card with the explanation for the gift I wept. And I named my stuffed dog Mr. Bojangles.

Mr. Bojangles has been the recipient of many late night talks involving my most painful scars and my greatest fears. His fur is dirty with my secrets and his body is stained with my tears. But the comfort I feel when wrap my arms around his torso has remained the same for 9 years. My Bojangles has survived the smoke of my grandma’s house, he has had two operations involving a thread a needle, and he has been victim to my cats constant kneading. But that abuse seems mild to abuse I have put him through for the past 4 days. I have made him absorb an abundance of tears, endure my tightest death grip, and share in my deepest pain as often as I could. Mr. Bojangles is my physical comfort but he isn’t the only recipient of my late night talks and he isn’t the only one covered with my secrets and my tears. As I cling tightly to my stuffed animal; God is clinging tightly to me. He is collecting every single one of my tears. He is calming my fears. And He is restoring my broken heart. God is there in the darkness as I cry out alone in my bed and He is saying, “My torso is the perfect size my child. Hug me for as long as you need.”  He is there reminding me that when I feel alone, scared, and sad; all I have to do is wrap my arm around Him. God wants us to find comfort in Him. He wants us to trust Him when the adults of our lives aren’t providing us with all that we need. He wants to be more honest with Him than we are with anyone else. He wants to be the constant reminder of security in our lives. He wants to represent peace, fulfillment, happiness, and contentment to us.  Have you experienced more than just the physical comfort of a stuffed animal? Do you cling to God when you are numb with pain and saddness? He wants to be our Mr. Bojangles friends. And just like a stuffed animal, God will endure with us. He doesn’t care how many times we saturate Him with our tears. He doesn’t count our fears, our mistakes, or our regrets. He doesn’t get sick of our late night talks. And He doesn’t keep track of the endless times we turn to Him for comfort. But He does know His owner. And when He sees His child crawling into bed, reaching for Him; He delights in being pulled in and placed close to their heart.

 As a child, I believed that my rabbit knew all about me and had special powers that adults didn’t seem to possess. And as an adult I believe that Mr. Bojangles has some magical powers of his own as well. But I know that when I share my true hurts, my deepest pain, and my vast amounts of tears with a tattered stuffed dog, I am not alone in my bed. The very one who choose to make me the owner of Mr. Bojangles (and my rabbit) chooses to me belong to Him. He chooses to love my death grips, my snotty nose, my tears, and my pain. He chooses to fit perfectly in my arms every night when I reach for Him.

Verse to remember:  

Isaiah 40: 10-11See, the Sovereign LORD comes with power,  and he rules with a mighty arm. See, his reward is with him, and his recompense accompanies him. 11  He tends his flock like a shepherd:  He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.