As I wrap the heavier blankets on Rachel and Janneke today, I am reminded of the word comfort.
Both girls are dealing with a cold flu that has kept them from deep sleep and school. Janneke started earlier this week, and Rachel started at the end of the week - and it's only September. Yikes.
Because the girls carry no known diagnosis, when they are even the least bit sick, my worry engines kick into high gear.
Sometimes the word comfort seems difficult to hold, as if the compounded emotions create a slippery fish I can't catch. Maybe it's my busyness or energy spent trying to define it or fix my problems that makes comfort seem allusive.
When I put the heavy quilts on my girls, taking care to cover their arms - all the way up to the shoulders so their hands can't fidget or find the face to rub, they settle and are quiet.
Maybe I ought to put on a blanket and sit quiet too.
Today, I am reminded that my comfort lies in my belonging to a Creator whose arms do move, spanning beyond my fears, doubts, or frustrations.
Peace to your homes,