Every child comes into contact with one at some point in their life.  Some children attach to theirs, some don’t, and some attach to something else.  Some use it often, some use it sparingly, and some never want to give theirs up.  Many refer to this as a pacifier, a binky, a pacie or some other affectionate nickname. We refer to Selah’s as “The Plug”

If she starts to fuss, any family member might start asking – “Where’s your plug, Selah?”  “Go find your plug.”  “Plug it up!”  Or – “Plug it in, plug it in” – which then turns into a singsong rendition of the Glade smell good plug in commercials…These musical renditions can last for some time in our house.

Soleil sucked two fingers, Salem finally took a binky (as we called it then) when he was over a year old. I’m a fan of this plug for Selah – she’s happy – we’re happy.

The question is – will we make Selah give up her precious plug one day? The answer is – Yes.
In a few months, after she turns two, we will ask her to hand over her precious plug to the trash man.  We know this will be a maturing life experience for her.

As adults, we can also rely on plugs to pacify us.  These plugs are things we depend on to make us feel better, to cope with life, and help us get through the day.  What kind of Plugs do you rely on?

I keep my own “plugs” handy – coffee, friends, facebook, distractions, etc…
Do I rely on them too much? I don’t want to be dependent on these things to be pacified.

The truth is Plugs can stunt our growth.  In life, we need to grow or we die.  We need to surrender our Plugs to Jesus.

Last week, I was running on Oklahoma soil blacktop, and I was reminded of my glory days in High School.  No, not my glory days of running track or cross country, but of singing – in vocal music.  Those were the days… During our Thanksgiving visit with my family, I was able to have breakfast with three of my good friends from High School.  These girls were my vocal music cohorts. We spent a lot of time together in music, performing, competing and harmonizing.  Imagine “Glee”, but not really.  The best part about our reunion over coffee and Panera bagels was when we broke out into song with a four-part harmony.  Nope.  That didn’t really happen, although it could have… The best part was just being.  Being with old friends who knew me when and still know me now.  We don’t sing together anymore, and we don’t see each other very often, but time picks up where we left off.  I am thankful.

Side note for my musical cohorts: Ok, seriously this picture is way. too. old.  Girls, we need an updated photo pronto.  My next visit, a new picture should be first on our agenda… Now on with the story.

As the wind came sweeping down the plains during my run, I was also reminded of my vocal glory days in college.  I attended the University of Oklahoma and was in the musical “Oklahoma” – very appropriate. It was during the first week of this vocal music experience that I decided I hated performing. However, I had to fulfill my six week, 12 hour a day contract of stage building, set up, costume design and performing.  Six weeks later, it was over.  I was free.  I said good-bye to the set, the stage and those musical peeps, knowing I would probably never see them again.  I was thankful. Although we were working closely together for those six weeks, there was never depth to our musical friendship.  They did not know me.

There is something amazing about being with people who know you.  There is something about knowing what you are made to do in this life.  It is a gift.  I knew I was made for something more.  My musical gifts were just that – Gifts!  I knew I had to start giving back the gift I had been given; back to God who gave it to me.  So in those college glory days began my journey as a Worshipper.  A Worshipper who has a gift to lead others into God’s presence.  This is something I am known for now.  I am thankful.

Those who spend enough time with me find out the inevitable, I have a short fuse.  I get angry.  I get irritated about the simplest of things and often my way of “handling things” can get a little ugly.

I yell.  I cry.  I sometimes kick and hit inanimate objects. I (almost) look like my (almost) two year old.

Over the years, I’ve broken two or three hairbrushes in the midst of my outbursts.

But most recently, Soleil’s brush – the only one she will use (and we’ve tried out several) – was broken in half.

“I didn’t do it!”  I shouted with relief.

No, this time it was an innocent accident.

Selah grabbed it off of the counter, it fell down and broke into two pieces.

How can a brush break into two pieces, if not slammed against something?  …I wondered.

Well, I bought it at the dollar store… I should’ve known.

Soleil will not brush her hair now, so she goes to school looking slightly disheveled.

I tried coaxing her into using my brush…but to no avail.

She uses her fingers to comb thru her tangles, and that suffices – for now.

Brushes are expensive these days… so this time I tried out the Target dollar spot – and had high hopes of this brush lasting Soleil’s lifetime…

Alas, it did not – she gave it a whirl and half way thru her fine hair, she caved and rejected this brush.

So, I resorted to extraordinary measures.  I bought a baby brush – the ol’ standby.  And it works just fine for her fine locks.  I’m thankful that God knows every hair on her head (Matthew 10:30).  I’m certain that He desires to take good care of them, just like I do.

The baby brush cost $4. Anger can be costly too. Trust broken. Feelings hurt. Bitterness lingering. Souls wounded.

I’ve learned many a lesson from broken brushes. I need to spend my ‘angry time’ wisely. On things that I should be angry about – God, break our hearts for the things that make your heart break – not Brushes.

Bonjour!  Je m’appelle Leslie Babcock ~ ou Les’ Babs 

Merci beaucoup for visiting my blog ~ I hope you will se servir une tasse de cafe’ and stay a while. This bliggity-blog is ‘all about moi’… the stories I live and share with my family and those around me, and most importantly Who we live for and follow ~ Jesus.  In a few simple words, I am a Feisty Mommy of 3 Wee Babs. Reluctant Pastors Wife. Spirit-Led Worship Leader. Lovely Child of God.

Here is a random fact about moi ~ I took several hours of French in college.  I was only one class short of having a French minor, but I did not finish.  I was so sick of French by that time, I no longer cared.  The truth is – there are many things in life I leave unfinished.  I prefer to put things off.  Procrastination knows me well.

I am thankful that we can always learn.  Even from procrastination.  We don’t need to be in a fancy building or have a diploma or even a title attached to our names.  We are never too old to learn, or start a blog…

Oh, and by the way ~ this is the extent of the French je sais tout de suite…plus tard!

Au revoir!