Anyway, the weeks following a three month Christmas-palooza can be a shock to my senses. No more festive music, no more twinkly lights, no more special parties or sugar coated pecans (omg- can we focus?) The shopping is over, we’ve had twelve birthday parties for Jesus and everyone is one double-iced-extra-sprinkled-homeade-christmas-cookie away from a diabetic coma.
And then everything comes to a screeching halt.
2016 was the year of sifting.
This was the year I knew less of what was happening than ever before. Nothing felt solid and there were constantly moving parts in every area of our lives.