Tired

When people ask ‘how are you?’ what do you reply?

‘Fine’

‘Good’

‘yep, how are you?’

One of my go-to replies is ‘head above water!’ But in the midst of the relentless, coming-at-me, complicated, tiring, purposeful, joyful, infuriating, beautiful life of ours there are times when I add in my head – ‘just’. You know that kind of tired when you’ve been treading water for so long the weary ache sets in, or you’ve been carrying something just slightly too heavy or awkward and suddenly you just have to put it down for a minute, when you’re running to catch up with someone and you’re nearly there – but not quite. That tired.

That tired that opens the door to the insecurities – ‘I can’t do this’, ‘I’m not good enough’, ‘what’s the point in trying’, ‘it won’t work’, ‘I’m failing’, ‘I always fail’, ‘I’m a failure, rubbish, why bother’, ‘nobody, invisible…’ – and a tiny voice in the midst of the clamor ‘ ‘help!’. Elijah tired.

When Elijah saw how things were, he ran for dear life to Beersheba, far in the south of Judah. He left his young servant there and then went on into the desert another day’s journey. He came to a lone broom bush and collapsed in its shade, wanting in the worst way to be done with it all—to just die: “Enough of this, God! Take my life—I’m ready to join my ancestors in the grave!” Exhausted, he fell asleep under the lone broom bush.

Suddenly an angel shook him awake and said, “Get up and eat!”

He looked around and, to his surprise, right by his head were a loaf of bread baked on some coals and a jug of water. He ate the meal and went back to sleep.

The angel of God came back, shook him awake again, and said, “Get up and eat some more—you’ve got a long journey ahead of you.”

8-9 He got up, ate and drank his fill, and set out. Nourished by that meal, he walked forty days and nights, all the way to the mountain of God, to Horeb. When he got there, he crawled into a cave and went to sleep.

Then the word of God came to him: “So Elijah, what are you doing here?” (1 Kings 19:3-9 MSG)

I come back to this passage over and over again. So human. So real. And God, our Father so gentle and purposeful. ‘There’s still a journey to make, eat, sleep, come on keep following – I’m here with you – one thing at a time Elijah’. We are seen, known by name, loved and sent with purpose & company. Time to catch a breath, eat & sleep the best I can and keep on stepping out with God.

lam 3 23

 

 

 

 

 

 

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understanding personal space

 

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excuse me – still here!

So how on earth do you begin to learn all about personal space, and respecting other peoples?? Everyone has a boundary at a slightly different distance. Relationship determines subtle yet important differences for each context. Different cultures have unspoken yet definite socially acceptable ‘rules’ about it. It’s not something that gets openly explained very often, yet we’re expected to get it right – every time, every social gathering, family meal, sharing of the peace!

For most of us it is learnt when we’re very young, one of those things that gets ‘picked up’ simply by being in relationships and experiencing a variety of social contexts. Learnt through picking up subtle body language cues; inference gleaned through experience; making connections between a variety of moments of cause and effect, carefully and correctly interpreted in the midst of social interaction. It’s a wonder it’s ever possible to get this right!

So what about those of us who don’t learn by inference? Or easily ‘read between the lines’? What if body language cues are a language yet to be learnt? And what if the way you see things leads to joining up the dots between cause and effect differently from everyone else, and connections are made therefore to different facts, different variables in previous moments of social interaction? How are the rules of socially acceptable interaction with others, understanding their personal space boundaries learnt??

I suppose the answer is, differently; from a different perspective; with an often refreshingly different approach and an analytical honesty that isn’t afraid of questioning a cultural norm.

I suppose the answer is also, painfully. Others don’t respond kindly to people seemingly ‘rocking the boat’, and openly questioning cultural norms – especially when expecting someone to be ‘old enough to know better’. Doing life differently can lead to feeling like an outsider or feeling disliked and unaccepted.

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one of those weeks

Firstly let me apologize that it’s been a whole month since my last post. I don’t really know how it’s become so complicated and busy for us as a family lately! But I’ve missed having the chance to sit and reflect, and chat with you. How are you all? Is life busy with you?

This last week we had a break from school. Andrew took A away for a holiday, and I had a break here at home with T & B – who was still at college. Inevitably as Andrew was away the week was challenging in ways I could not have even thought of! A friend I rang for help at one point commented that she couldn’t wait to read the blog, so here goes…

Andrew had taken the girls and I down to my Mum’s for an overnight stay on the Sunday. The boys were heading to the airport on Monday morning. I was, believe it or not, meeting up with my sisters for a spa day on the Monday and then we had tickets to travel home by train that night so B could be back in routine for college. It was a surprisingly good day at the spa actually, and really special to have the space and time together. We finished the day with a massive afternoon tea in a beautiful setting with live music – what a treat.

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The train journey was hard work, managing the anxiety and the dynamics between B & T. It was helped by finding seats on both trains, no delays and the lovely surprise of sitting opposite a travelling cat on our second train which distracted us beautifully. However when we got off the train and were met by a friend to drive us home (Thank you – you know who you are!) I realized I had left my keys at home in the scramble to get going the day before. Dark, raining, but thankfully not on our own on our doorstep! Well after a few internet searches, and phone calls we met a local locksmith who coped with us, and got us into our house again!!

Tuesday was a day spent recovering from all the stress of change, travel, people and the shock of being locked out!

Wednesday began positively, T was up and ready (even if full of nerves) to go our for a pony day at the riding stables she goes to. A friends parents came and picked her up and took her for me. B then went off to college and I breathed and then got the hoover out. B had commented to me that the sitting room smelled funny, so I went there first. We had eaten tea in there so I figured it would just be the lingering smell of chips and nuggets. But no, tucked in neatly behind the sofa was a present from the cats… a well dead pigeon. After a good talking to myself I set to and cleared it all up.

Was just putting the bag of rubbish outside when a car arrived and there was T back early – brought back by her friend’s Dad (Thank you!!). She’d fallen off her horse.

As soon as the door closed T fell apart, having masked at the riding stables, masked on the way back in the car and in lots of pain she just lost it. She was shivering, sobbing and not talking. So I tucked her up into my bed, got the calpol, and sat with her waiting for her to calm down. It’s so difficult when emotions and pain are so overwhelming that words just can’t get out, I feel very helpless in those situations. As soon as the pain relief should have started working I tried to find out what was going on. She was still pale and cold, but as I talked to her she began to overheat and then the sensation of the covers and clothes became unbearable and in all of this I could see she wasn’t moving her arm. In my head I began working out what would be the best thing to do. This reaction didn’t seem to indicate a bump or bruise. It was hard to think straight though at the same time as managing T. So I texted a friend, blurted out what had happened and asking what they thought I should do. She rang, we chatted and then she said she’d ring back in 5 with a plan! True to her word she rang back 5 mins later having spoken to a GP to ask whether T should go to a walk-in or A&E, organised a lift and sent them to come and get us (again thank you, you know who you are!), and thought through what I needed to take with me, and what to tell B about getting home from college – she was amazing!! (Thank you – you know who you are!)

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We sat in A&E, just keeping T as calm as I could. Triage, waiting, sent for x-ray, called in – it was broken. A clean break right through near the top of her arm – too high for a plaster cast. img_20190530_083804287.jpg

So we were sent home with a collar & cuff sling, and advice to keep pain relief going. What a day – what a week!!

When he got back  (thankfully no further unexpected challenges) Andrew asked me if the week had made me wonder about getting back into driving. Do you know it hadn’t, but it had made me so very thankful for all the friendship and support that we have been surrounded by being part of the church family and the local community. When I pray for what we need as a family, God does sometimes give me or Andrew the gift, talent or resource we need to face the challenge but more often than not he gives us what we need through other people. I don’t quite know how I would manage to parent, adult or stay vaguely sane without that network of support around us.

 

seeing in colour: how do we experience life in all its fullness?

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Jesus told this simple story, but they had no idea what he was talking about. So he tried again. “I’ll be explicit, then. I am the Gate for the sheep. All those others are up to no good—sheep stealers, every one of them. But the sheep didn’t listen to them. I am the Gate. Anyone who goes through me will be cared for—will freely go in and out, and find pasture. A thief is only there to steal and kill and destroy. I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of. (John 10:10 MSG)

“It’s so sad Mummy”, “what is T?” – “they don’t see all the colours.”

We were chatting about our two lovely, cuddly kittens. We’ve been busy in T’s bedroom, new curtains, some bigger shelves and a good sort out. We’ve also been making a house together for her dolls, and have so enjoyed the colours and fabrics and papers we have been playing with. And Jaffa loves it as you can see – on this visit to the house he found the bedroom and decided to settle in for a nap tucked in by T, too cute!

Cats apparently only see in black and white, or only a very limited range anyway. Of course we talked about how they had only ever seen things this way which meant that the shades and densities of black and white and all in-between were what they were used to, they could still have favourites and enjoy the differences (Jaffa seems to love pink for example, but we don’t know that pink looks the same to him as it does to us).

Recently someone reminded me of John 10:10 – life in all its fullness, life in abundance is what Jesus gives us as he comes into our lives. And I thought back to this little conversation. Spiritually we have got so used to seeing only in black and white, and we are very comfortable with that. But God sees in technicolour! And in Jesus it is as if he opens our eyes to catch glimpses – not too much or we’d be overwhelmed – of the dazzling colours of real, full, life. I expect we each get to see and experience different glimpses too. The abundant life of God splashes into our lives in different places and in different ways. One of my go-to phrases about my life as a disciple is that ‘my joy looks different from yours’ (or swap in peace, or hope etc). I don’t mean that God’s truth is relative – not at all – I guess I’m meaning that the expression of it, my experience of it as it splashes into and through my life here on earth may be very different from yours. We are unique, and God’s revelation of himself is personal at the same time as being the same truth for all, across all time and cultures.

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We each see and experience in a different way. Some much more differently than most. My girls see and experience the world around them differently from most and sometimes I wonder if that means they see very different shades, depths and brightness in the colourful splashes of God’s abundant life that break into ours.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to understand more of what they see, what their faith experience feels like? Wish I could be a fly on the wall. But it’s their personal friendship with God, their story with him. I only walk alongside, hoping to encourage and enable. But I’m also walking alongside ready to listen and learn, and rejoice when they share with me. I am learning (still!) to listen when T starts to sing in the garden or as we walk – it’s in these songs that she often describes her friendship with God, or her wonder at him and all he’s made. When I chat with B about a faith experience of my own, I’m learning to be braver and gently ask how she sees it, or if she’s experienced anything similar – and am learning to wait for her answer (which may come days later!). When I am planning something for a church group I’m enjoying asking B, A & T what they think, what they would choose to do to explain, or what craft or activity it makes them think about. Drawing and doodling together continues to be a great way of talking and sharing faith experiences together too.

What are the times your kids are able to share an insight about their faith?

In what ways does God’s abundant life splash it’s colour into your family life?

 

Sugar free January??? No chance

Everything on my news feeds at the moment is about clean eating, getting fit, ‘new year new you’, sugar free, dry January. I read them with my chocolate bar open next to me, and take them with a pinch of salt! There’s no chance, not for me this year! With sleep still a constant battle, and worries every which way I turn these types of resolutions are a battle I can’t take on (even if I wanted to – and actually I don’t, chocolate & I are good friends!). I haven’t made any resolutions at all really. I guess I’m in survival mode most of the time, taking each day (or on a bad day, each 5 mins) at a time.

If I did sit here for a moment (my first moment like this in a while, Christmas has been (mostly) wonderfully full on as usual) with time to reflect and dream what would my resolutions be I wonder?

There are many things I would like to improve in family life, or sort out in the home. Yes my diet (and over reliance on chocolate) does need an overhaul – despite Andrew’s best efforts to get me eating good, home cooked, balanced meals in the evenings. And my hair & skin need a fairy godmother! But are these the things I want to resolve to focus on this year? Probably not.

I would love to remember more than I forget that God’s presence is with me – all the time, in every minute of the day & night. I believe he’s with me; Emmanuel – God dwelling with us; yet somehow in the middle of family life’s complicated and stressful day to day it’s something that seems to slip my mind and I don’t want it to! I believe his presence is with me and that I don’t have to work hard, or shout loudly to conjure it up. It’s his promise to me as someone who trusts and loves him. He’s here, right here, closer to me than the breath I take in. His loving, under-girding, kind, powerful, gentle, wise, leading presence is here ready to help and save, comfort and restore.

Oh yes, people of Zion, citizens of Jerusalem, your time of tears is over. Cry for help and you’ll find it’s grace and more grace. The moment he hears, he’ll answer. Just as the Master kept you alive during the hard times, he’ll keep your teacher alive and present among you. Your teacher will be right there, local and on the job, urging you on whenever you wander left or right: “This is the right road. Walk down this road.” (Isaiah 30:21 The Message)

I’m an open book to you;
even from a distance, you know what I’m thinking.
You know when I leave and when I get back;
I’m never out of your sight.
You know everything I’m going to say
before I start the first sentence.
I look behind me and you’re there,
then up ahead and you’re there, too—
your reassuring presence, coming and going.
This is too much, too wonderful—
I can’t take it all in! (Psalm 139:1-6 The Message)

“I’m telling you these things while I’m still living with you. The Friend, the Holy Spirit whom the Father will send at my request, will make everything plain to you. He will remind you of all the things I have told you. I’m leaving you well and whole. That’s my parting gift to you. Peace. I don’t leave you the way you’re used to being left—feeling abandoned, bereft. So don’t be upset. Don’t be distraught. (John 14:26 The Message)

Maybe I’ll draw out these verses and put them in places I will see as I go about my everyday here in this house.

I need reminding, I’ve been far too good at forgetting, I am not alone.

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Looking at it it seems a rather simple resolution. But I have a feeling that if I were to succeed it could change pretty much everything else – my perspective, my responses, my feelings. So my prayer for myself for 2019 is simply this, ‘my Father God, open my eyes and heart up to your presence even more as we walk through each day of this new year together…’