Sleep, blessed sleep!

Sleep is very important in our household: both hubby and I enjoy sleep enormously and are definitely not morning people. I was aware that this would be challenged when babies arrived on the scene, but naively hoped that it would be very short lived!

Sleep is a very emotive subject with parents of small children because lack of it (on the parts of both parents and children) can literally make or break your day. Then there are the different approaches to sleep and the 'experts' who will argue that children should be on a strict routine from day one and must learn to sleep on their own, or the other 'experts' who argue that co-sleeping is by far the best thing for babies to develop bonds with their parents.

I have friends at both ends of the spectrum and would argue that neither approach is right or wrong, but that if the chosen options work for the individual families then all is good.

For us, co-sleeping could never be an option because I know that I would never get any sleep for worrying about the baby in my bed, so with our eldest we opted for our own version of the crying-it-out approach, which involved hubby sitting outside the door and going in to baby every couple of minutes to stroke and reassure him (all while I was in another room trying to get some sleep between feeds!) I have to say that for us, this approach worked and we have an eldest child who from three months has slept well and knows that night time is for sleeping.

However, with baby number 2 (it's supposed to be easier second time round, right?) this approach didn't work and by 3 months old we had a baby and two parents who were utterly distraught come bedtime. Nothing settled him except feeding him to sleep, but then he would wake up as soon as I put him back in his crib. Because I knew that co-sleeping would not work for me we had completely run out of ideas.

Everything reached it's peak on holiday last June when I had been lying on the floor (Baby J was in a pop-up cot) stroking, shushing and generally trying to calm him to sleep (after hubby had already tried for a long time and failed.) I suddenly, almost audibly, heard God telling me to pray. Not the kind of desperate  'please God, help him to sleep' prayers that I'd been praying up until that point, but really pray. So I did.

"Father fill J with your love and your peace" was the phrase that seemed to have been put on my heart, and which I started repeating over and over. Almost immediately, the crying ceased. I felt God telling me to keep praying; that J would start crying again, but that I should keep praying and then he would settle to sleep eventually. J started crying again, I carried on praying. I can honestly say that it felt like a real spiritual battle was taking place.

"Father fill J with your love and your peace." As I prayed those words over and over I became aware that my child is God's child; that He wanted to love and protect him as much, and more even, than I did. I realised that God knows our love for our children because He gave us that love.

Eventually J stopped crying and fell asleep. We had a few more nights of those prayers and slowly my little one started to calm down at bed times. It didn't make everything perfect but he seemed from then on to settle into a better pattern of sleep.

So why do I write this now? Because the other night I was reminded of those prayers as my little one decided to start protesting at bedtime again. It didn't take long repeating those prayers before he fell asleep though and after a couple of nights we were back to normal (which involves a few minutes of protesting before he falls asleep cuddling his teddy!).

There will be people who will argue I should just have picked my crying baby up and given him a cuddle. Maybe they are right. But just maybe, the whole situation taught me to remember that praying to our Father for His intervention, is the best thing I can do for my children, and that His loving arms are best of all.

Hope

If I'm totally honest, I have found the last few weeks hard work (hence lack of blogging!). We have all been suffering with a variety of colds, coughs, and vomiting bugs, and the daily routine of cooking, cleaning, toddler groups (or not, as we've been ill), swings, shopping, washing and so on, has felt less of a daily routine, and more of a daily drudge.

Yesterday morning after our plans to go as a family to a Good Friday service had been scuppered by our youngest coming down with a vomiting bug on Thursday night  I was at my wits end and was taking my frustrations out on God because I felt like He wasn't listening to our prayers, and that He didn't care about me or my needs.

It was at that point that hubby showed me, through my tears, the verses that he had just read in his Morning Prayer Book.

A Song of Lamentation

1 Is it nothing to you, all you who pass by? •
Look and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow,

2 Which was brought upon me, •
which the Lord inflicted
on the day of his fierce anger.

3 For these things I weep;
my eyes flow with tears; •
for a comforter is far from me,
one to revive my courage.

4 Remember my affliction and my bitterness, •
the wormwood and the gall!

5 But this I call to mind, •
and therefore I have hope:

6 The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, •
his mercies never come to an end;

7 They are new every morning; •
great is your faithfulness.

8 ‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul, •
‘therefore I will hope in him.’

9 The Lord is good to those who wait for him, •
to the soul that seeks him.

10 It is good that we should wait quietly •
for the salvation of the Lord.

11 For the Lord will not reject for ever; •
though he causes grief, he will have compassion,

12 According to the abundance of his steadfast love; •
for he does not willingly afflict or grieve anyone.

Lamentations 1.12, 16a,b; 3.19, 21-26, 31-33

As I read these verses, I truly felt as if God had written them for me to see. He knew that I needed to be reminded of His presence and His faithfulness. 

And what amazing verses to be reminded of today, Easter Saturday, as we wait in hope for tomorrow; as we remind ourselves of Jesus followers and what they must have been feeling on that first Easter Saturday. Hope had been lost and they, as far as they knew, had been left alone to their sorrow. 

But that was not the end of the story. There is in fact, no end to the story: "the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end." As we celebrate Easter tomorrow I pray that we may remember this truth, through all things. 

Vulnerability

This week I have discovered a new definition of vulnerability: the image of your small child sleeping in a 'big boy bed' where he has wriggled out of the duvet.

This week I have been reminded again, in the simplest of ways, about how precious my children are and how much they rely on me and hubby to love and protect them.

This week I have become much more like I was in the early days of being a neurotic first-time mum, constantly checking on my eldest son when he is sleeping to make sure that he is warm enough and not teetering on the edge of his bed.

This week I have been reminded anew of a definition of vulnerability which I came up with when I first held my eldest child in my arms. Vulnerability: a parent with the precious gift of their child, knowing that they can only do so much to protect that child.

This week I have been reminded that our children are also God's children, that we too are God's children, that in our weakness His strength will manifest itself and His power will be made perfect.

Back to reality....

Over the weekend hubby and I had 24 blissful hours away from our children! As much as we adore them, it was amazing to have some 'us' time where we didn't have to fit in to a 'little people' agenda and where we could remind ourselves of life as a couple rather than life as a family.

Yesterday afternoon we arrived to pick up the boys from their grandparents and drove home, all having had a lovely time and feeling refreshed, happy and ready for the week ahead.

Cue this morning and things were a different story all together. If the boys could have expressed themselves clearly, they may have stated something along the lines of: You left us! How could you? You will pay; we are going to make your life such a misery that you will never dream of leaving us again, even for a second! Or maybe they would have said: How dare you take us away from our grandparents where we were having such fun and bring us home where we have to share you with the washing machine, the cooker and the kitchen sink! We will make you pay!


Either way, pay I did...with an entire day of moaning, winging, crying and a level of histrionics which I'd not expected to encounter until the teenage years! By the end of the day, I was vowing never to go away again because, despite the fact that the kids have a lovely time being spoilt by their grandparents, and we have a lovely time with each other, the day after (I am hoping it's just one!) ruins it all!

It seems that life is constantly about managing the balance between the lovely and the mundane. Without the drudgery or the difficulties, the joyous times would not seem so wonderful. Without the joyous times, the difficulties would threaten to overwhelm us.

As I am coming back down to reality I pray that God will help me hold on to the memories of the nice time had, and the hope of more fun round the corner; and as I try to help my boys get back into the normal routine of things, I pray for patience!

A time to focus on God

During the run up to Christmas I was hoping to write a series of short reflections about Mary, focusing on her emotions relating to the first Christmas Story. As usual, time ran away with me and energy levels dipped once stuffings were made, presents wrapped and children fast asleep. The result is no blog for a while! However, there is always next year to write something on the Christmas story, and if I start writing some reflections in September then I might manage it!

So for me the new year started in a way which really brought home to me how wonderful life can be, but also how fragile it is. We spent a wonderful time with family and friends over Christmas, celebrating, laughing, eating, giving and receiving gifts; we spent New Year's Eve celebrating at the wedding of some friends; another day filled with love, fun, and excitement about what the future holds. In all the celebrations of Christmas, God was present; the unseen guest at our table, the peace in our souls, the love in our hearts.

We then received some really tragic news on New Years Day about the sudden death of a 9 year old girl who came to some of the church groups we run. 

So where is God when a young girl has her life snatched away? I am really wrestling with this and still don't have an answer, but am trying to believe that God is present and that God will continue to make Himself known to this little girl's family as they are upheld in prayer by the local Christian community. 

If I am honest one of my first thoughts was also to my own children: thank you God that they are safe and healthy; please God protect and keep them. Is this selfish, or is this a natural reaction in such circumstances? I don't know, but I trust that God understands my thoughts and prayers for my own children as I also pray for others.

I guess one of the things that this tragic death has bought home to me is that at times we will not understand the things that God allows to happen in our lives or the lives of those people we are close to.

Yet in all things, and for whatever the year ahead holds, what we can do is trust God to be the ever present Almighty guiding our paths and enfolding us in His love. 

A wonderful verse follows which I think is a great thing for us all to remember as we contemplate the year ahead:

 There is a time for everything, 
 and a season for every activity under the heavens:

 a time to be born and a time to die,
 a time to plant and a time to uproot,
 a time to kill and a time to heal,
 a time to tear down and a time to build,
 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
 a time to mourn and a time to dance,
 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
 a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
 a time to search and a time to give up,
 a time to keep and a time to throw away,
 a time to tear and a time to mend,
 a time to be silent and a time to speak,
 a time to love and a time to hate,
 a time for war and a time for peace.                            Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8

My prayer for myself and those I love is that at all times we will know the unfailing love and unwavering strength of our Father who calls us to Himself. 

Mums' Prayer Meeting

Yesterday we had a "Mums' prayer" meet up. This is a once a month meet up in my living room where local Christian mums get together to pray for each other. I stole the idea from another friend about 18 months ago and set about telling local mums that it would be a time to meet up, chat and pray together. 

We quickly realised that calling it a prayer meeting was overstating it somewhat. Generally the first hour and a half is spent chatting and eating biscuits whilst entertaining our children, making sure they don't try and scale the stairs or destroy each other, then we spend a few minutes discussing what we would like prayer for. 

The actual praying bit comes at the end, when the children are all losing the plot and getting ready for lunch and nap time, and lasts no more than five minutes. Yesterday's prayer time took place to the accompaniment of two xylophones, a piano, and various musical toys; we all prayed with our eyes open to ensure that the children were okay, and most prayers were interspersed with the odd "shhh" here and there.

And yet, God was there; listening above the noise and helping us respond to Him and to each other in prayer. 

I have really struggled with the fact that most of my prayers to God nowadays are said whilst doing other things, or at least thinking about the next thing I need to do. It is something that I need to work on, to try and have some quiet time each day. But I have also come to realise that we do not need to pray in silence for our prayers to be real: we do not need to pray with our eyes closed for God to hear us.

Prayers do not even need to begin with 'Dear God' and end with 'Amen'. In the time we had chatting  yesterday before we even got around to praying, we had God in mind; we were preparing to pray throughout the coming month for the things going on in each others' lives; we were aware of God's promise that "where two or three come together in my name, I will be with them". (Matthew 18v20)

God is bigger than the clamour going on around us: He knows our thoughts, our actions, our lives. He does not need to 'hear' what we say because He can read what is on our hearts. 

Strike Action

The last few days have seen a lot of people taking a stand against the government and the current political and economic situation. It seems that even my two year old is getting in on the act, going on strike against 'the government of Mummy' (referred to from here on as 'the Government'.)

So it seems that this morning, as with most other mornings this week, the representative from the Union of Toddlerhood (referred to hereafter as 'the Union member') has taken umbrage at the underhand tactics of 'the Government' as she has tried to enforce various appalling rules which clearly, he feels, infringe his human rights: rules such as having a nappy changed in the morning and putting a jumper on, for example. 

After much of the week spent in deep negotiations to try to resolve these issues and reach a mutually agreeable solution, 'the Government' finally lost patience this morning and, when all other calm tactics had been attempted and had come to nothing, the last resort was tried: screaming blue murder! Unfortunately, even this had no effect on 'the union member' who appeared totally impervious to all pleas, entreaties and threats and preferred instead to run around cold and naked in his bedroom, screaming whenever 'the Government' attempted an approach. 

The situation remained uncertain as 'the Government' gave up hope of ever resolving the situation and went downstairs to give 'the union member's' brother his breakfast, whilst the union member, failing to realise that no-one was now listening, continued to plead his case alone upstairs. 

Fortunately an unbiased arbitrator was able to step in at the eleventh hour (interrupting his morning shave to do so) and was able to reason with 'the union member'. A solution was reached when 'the union member' was delivered downstairs to breakfast fully clothed and ready to apologise to 'the government' for going on strike. 

Although the problem was resolved, this left 'the Government' to bemoan her ineffectuality in dealing with 'the union member' and suggesting that maybe she should switch roles with the arbitrator and head off to his work leaving him to manage 'the union member' for the remainder of the day.

In this instance the stand-off was resolved with both parties saying sorry and having a cuddle: a happy outcome for all involved. Both parties are aware, however, that this will not be the end of the battle. Further negotiations will commence tomorrow!