I am in one of those seasons again where life feels just a little bit harder than it should be, a little more dull and anxiety ridden.  I am doing what I normally do then (because I have been here many, many times), I am reading a holocaust book.  I am waking early and I am almost through 1 Samuel.  I am falling asleep to Philippians 4:6 marching through my head.  I am praying through the restless nights.  I am asking him to hold me tighter.  Those are the positives.  I am also sleeping a lot.  Eating sweets and candies.  Skipping the gym.  Fixating on the uncontrollable.  Becoming more and more quiet.

This is the struggle I am afraid I will always have.  Balancing and managing my moody spirit.  Growing skin that is thick enough to keep the life inside of it confident and steady.  Keeping the fear at bay, the peace close.

This is that season: there is something daunting ahead of me.  This is the season that knocks me over sometimes and it is here unexpectedly.  Just yesterday it was summer and my skin was running wild, colored red and brown from the sun and smelling of oil and heat.  And now it is put away.  Tucked neatly into clothes that are neutral and no nonsense and hushed.  Just yesterday it was summer and anything could have happened.

Today I have that sinking sensation I am in the wrong place and I am not sure if it is the place that is wrong or if it is me.  If there is some part of me I need to shed and a new part  I need to put on or if I simply thank Him for this uncomfortable space.  For the luxury of knowing what comfort is.  Because I am reading a holocaust book.  I am falling asleep next to a good man.  I am almost through 1 Samuel and I am growing more skin.