I haven’t written much lately. I’ve been running around like a chicken with my head off and being dragged down by deep thoughts the whole time, but I just haven’t felt like writing. Sometimes it comes easy and sometimes it just feels like oh so much fluff and I don’t have time for fluff. I mean, really, who does?

Raise you’re hand if you’re a fluff-lover! Other than your pillow, of course! Yep, didn’t think so. (If you raised your hand, you’re probably not a mom. Mom’s throw fluff to the wind around the first time their precious, adorable newborn has a diaper blow out while cuddling on their lap. Reality sets in fast!)

This is yet another time of year when I hover between tears of joy and tears of pain. I can’t even listen to the song “I’ll be Home for Christmas.” Makes me so depressed it’s almost coma-inducing. And yet, seeing those little faces peering up as they stand on tiptoes to see our nativity (and the inevitable little wandering fingers!)…or watching their sticky little faces as they relish their hot (but not too hot!) chocolate…you can’t help but smile.

Sometimes it feels like God is just forcing me out of my little box, rather than just opening doors of opportunity. I know it’s about perspective more than circumstances, but sometimes I just get frustrated with the circumstances and that’s all I can see.

Our kids are off for Christmas break from school after today and they’ll be heading to visit my mother in law out of town for a few days on Sunday. They’ll come back before Christmas, of course. It’s a great chance for them to visit and helps us out with a sticky holiday daycare situation and we’ve done it for a couple years now.

But I don’t like it.

I don’t ever like anything that takes my kids out of what I consider my immediate reach. (And I think I’m pretty generous with what I consider my reach, when it comes to my kiddos. The Hemi and I can cover some ground if need be!)

I just worry.

And worry and worry and worry.

Not to mention that I get depressed, missing my parents, at the holidays and nothing fights depression better than just watching my crew cracking up together for a few minutes.

And I worry.

And worry feeds on itself.

Next thing you know I’m worried about Mr. Fix-It and our house and our vehicles and my grandparents and our horses and our jobs and…you get the idea. I think it’s officially called “racing thoughts” by “the professionals.”  I just called it “pointlessly-causing myself-hives.”

This is a time of year when I spend most of my day committing everything in my life back to God. Constantly. Forcing myself to let go, over and over again.

If you’ve ever wondered why people memorize scripture, well, here’s why I do–when I can’t stop my mind from wheeling around like crazy, I start reciting scripture to myself. It puts God’s promises over my life right at my fingertips. {I’ve also discovered that I enjoy learning the words to old hymns for the same reason!}

Here’s my personal favorite right now…what comfort for an anxious mother!

“I will lift up mine eyes until the hills, from whence cometh my help.

My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.

He will not suffer they foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.

Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord is thy keeper: the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand.

The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.

The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.

The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.”

~Psalms 121