I can't stand losing control and every year at about this time I lose it. big. time.
While everything around me boasts love and merriment I am screaming on the inside.
The numbers are crunching in my head and it is clear there is not enough to go around. There is never enough and for 11 months out of the year I have no problem with it. But something dark takes hold of me in this season and makes me WANT what is not needed. It is as if I am brainwashed. I know it and I try to prepare for it but every year I fail to fully ignore it.
It is foolish and brings me only feelings of guilt and shame. There are a stack of boxes in my storage area just waiting to remind me of my selfish and immature heart. The kids have the "I want" flu and it hits every December. I justify every gift with excuses and foolish reasons when I should just say no.
Meanwhile the world is spinning faster and faster. My house is a mish mosh of projects from sheet rock repair to painting to trim. The rooms are disheveled. There is five gallon buckets of paint and piles of tools and sandpaper. My husband and I compete for space every day in the kitchen. He needs to finish his projects and I need to cook/clean/bake/prepare. The kids are cranky and fighting. They are begging to put up the tree. Where would we put it? In the center of the room? I can't imagine adding to the chaos. The calendar is chock full of parties, recitals, programs, cookie exchanges and sub days. Tell me why we have to do EVERYTHING in four short weeks? WHY? None of it is about Jesus. I just want it all to be over and done.
Today Addi cut a chunk out of Nora's hair. A CHUNK about 4 inches long and 2 inches wide. The thing is, NO ONE NOTICED. I was at school all day. Dad was busy with projects. Maleah took out Nora's braids for a bath and with the braid came hair, a lot of it. Maleah was shocked and her face was priceless. I think she thought she had done it by taking the rubber band out. Addison announced that she cut Nora's hair with the scissors she found. We still don't know when or where it happened. But there it is, a spike of one inch long hair right on top of her head, just waiting to be photographed thousands of time in the next few weeks. Forgive me that, " it'll grow back" doesn't make me feel better.
At night as I stand in the hallway and point to their bedrooms I pray that I will have time tomorrow to tell them the story, to get out the nativity, to have a conversation with them about the reason for the season. Then, tomorrow comes and I am even more tired and even more lost and even more sad and the whole cycle just keeps me further and further away from the truth.
This is the time of the year when I am supposed to be joyful and at peace and anxious for celebration and all I can think of is what needs to be done, what I haven't checked off the list. It weighs on me and makes me crabby.
So much of what I feel comes from wanting control of things, my children, my home, my life. I know this. I feel the tug of temptation. I know it stems from the darkest of places. Why can't I just ignore it?
This therapy of mine (writing) seems like it doesn't do the trick anymore. I went through Monday without one thought of thankfulness this week. Sigh.
I am feeling pretty bad about myself today. Problem is my mood sets the tone of the house and my mood has got to get moving up. I pray that the next time I have the time to sit and plunk out some words they will be positive ones.