these kinds of mornings.

it always ALWAYS starts with the pitter-pat of kitty feet. crawling all over us, licking our faces, acting very dog-ish.

followed by a sweet voice calling out for dear 'ol, "daaaaddddd... daaaaddddd..."

and then! it's family snuggle morning time. henry sandwiches. singing. forced kitty love. kisses. play biting. half-awake wrestling. tickling and against-will-laughing.

this is my thirty minutes of daily bliss. my very first moments of the day; before to-do lists and traffic and work and getting my family up and ready. it remedies any chance of waking up on "the wrong side".

mundane moments make the best moments for making memories.

morning mayhem full of love & sweetness & sarcasm & jokes & family.

rinse and repeat, for these kinds of mornings.

sleeping beauties.

our little family crawled into bed with our hot cocoa & popcorn to watch a christmas flick.

these two checked out for a visit to dreamy-land right as the grinch's heart started to grow.

aren't theses sleeping beauties precious?

joy.

there was something missing for a bit of a block of time; not missing in the sense that i couldn't find it; rather lacking use.

we all have our seasons...

when we don't listen closely; we're quick to speak, quicker to respond.

we're not as free to give of ourselves; generosity sometimes weights on circumstance.

we become selfish, in some instances knowingly; others we're blindly selfish, following our wants disguised as our needs.

and when things don't add up, when a part of your heart isn't filled up, when the seams start to stretch and snare under the weight of the thoughts you thought were just full of hot steam:

you reinforce your walls.

you don't cry out for help.

you don't bow down on your knees.

you don't pray.

you don't talk to God.

you work it out on your own.

i'm happy to say, this season has ended.

i stopped paving my walls with guilt-ridden thoughts, and they crumbled, just like that. all the hours of wasteful effort building them higher, and it took a split second. a milla-second.

in that moment of letting go, i let my God back in.

and i wept for how much i had missed His presence.

He filled me with a peace i will never find elsewhere, and a joy incomparable to anything on this earth.

my season of silence ran its course, and brought me right where i'm supposed to be: humbled, on my knees, praying, and full of His joy.

thank you God, for your mercy & grace.

"joy to the world the Lord has come!

let earth receive her King;

let every heart prepare Him room"

my latest sob story.

yes. sob. the sobbing has begun...

i'd stop it if i could, paint on my "brave" appearance, but it's rather automatic. the tears are wet on my cheeks before i even realize i've done it again. i've let the water-works stream down my face, run my mascara & soil my shirt.

a fact is a fact, and my fact is: these tears are inevitable, as they countdown to january 27th two thousand twelve.

he deploys, black sea rotation, tentative six months.

don't worry folks. he won't be in harms way (thank God!!!), but he will be away. and a wife without her husband? our family without its daddy? well, life just won't feel the same. and my throat starts to burn and my eyes start to prickle at the thought of daily life without him.

we've been here before, separated by distance for six months. and i have no doubt in my heart that we'll see this to the other side, once again. our marriage & family far out weigh the time and space to come. i know this to be true.

but i'm still going to cry. my heart is still going to ache. because it longs to be close to his, always. everyday. and my soul quite literally dreads the hundred-eighty days that i won't wake up to him every morning.

eeE. prickle. watery eyeballs. sob.