Why do I do this to myself?

There are lots of things about being a mother that no one ever tells you about. One of those things is worrying. Granted, yes, other mothers told me I would worry about my children.

BUT.........

No one ever told me about the depth at which I would worry.

No one told me I would worry about everything.

No one ever said I would worry about things that haven't happened yet.

And even about things that may never happen.

I used to read just about every article in the newspaper. Now I scan the headlines quickly. I check for words such as child or infant. If any of these words are joined with death or assault or abuse, I skip the article.

I don't like to hear about children dying or hurt.

A couple of days ago, I started reading The Shack. I read and heard great reviews about it. So many people loved it. So many of my friends told me, "You have to read this book!"

I looked at the book. I read the summary in the back. If you want to see for yourself, just click on the book name above.

I am at the part where the father has discovered his daughter missing and the police have found a ladybug pin at the campsite.

Here's the thing for me: I didn't know that the little girl would be the same age as my own daughter. And I'm still hoping that maybe she's wandered into the woods and they are going to find her. Even though I pretty much know this isn't how the book is going to go.

Needless to say, all kinds of horrific images were floating through my head last night as I was trying to fall asleep.

When I hear or read of things like this--because even though I avoid these kinds of stories, I do stumble upon them unintentionally--I cannot help but to think of my own children. It's frustrating what the imagination can do. All kinds of what-ifs start rolling through my head.

What if the house alarm fails and someone manages to crawl into the kids' bedroom windows and steal them? And we don't hear a thing?

What if someone takes them while we are at a soccer game, and I let the kids play a few feet away from me while I watched the game?

What if it's hunting season and The Man is gone for the weekend and someone breaks in and hurts me and then the kids are left without anyone to protect them?

What if someone goes to their school and starts shooting?

What if one of them gets sick with an incurable disease? And I have to watch my baby suffer and die?

All sorts of horrible things. It's not like I have a sick imagination. I can't help but to think of these things sometimes. Believe me when I say that many times I wish I had an on/off switch for my brain.

Each night, I pray faithfully and fervently. "Please God, protect us. Please protect my babies. Let no harm come to us."

Then I start to think.....

I'm sure I'm not the only parent in the world who prays every single day and night for the safety and health of their children.

But bad things still happen.....

....to the parents who pray for their children.

So what if.....

....we're next?

Sometimes I can't help but wonder that we're in some sort of cruel bingo ball machine. And I'm just standing there watching, helplessly, waiting for our number to be called.

Panic and worry.

No one ever told me I would do these things incessantly.

No one ever told me it would keep me up at night.

I can't be the only mother out there that does this.........right?