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!

With the help of God, we will.

Last weekend we had our youngest son baptised. I found the service overwhelmingly powerful as our family, friends and church family joined with us to welcome our son into the Christian faith. After the Vicar had baptised him, he said these words:

Christ claims you for his own. Receive the sign of the cross. Do not be ashamed to confess the faith of Christ crucified.

The congregation then joins in: fight valiantly as a disciple of Christ against sin, the world and the devil, and remain faithful to Christ to the end of your life.

Powerful words right? And a lot to ask of a 6 month old! Except, it has dawned on me as I've reflected on this over the last week, that these words, although a prayer for my son throughout his life, are also directed at me. Because how else is my son going to know how to be a disciple of Christ other than through the example of his parents?

I am aware that I'm only human and that there are many many times when I will not show my children what it means to be a good disciple, and for those times I am grateful for God's love and His grace that is much more far reaching than needing to rely only on me to do His work. However, I took a vow during that baptism service: to pray for my son, draw him by my example into the community of faith and help him to take his place within the life and worship of the church. 

So just going to church on a Sunday isn't enough then, I guess! Maybe taking him to church on a Sunday and a couple of Christian toddler groups during the week? Or maybe God is calling me, and all of us who are Christian parents, to really live out our faith in a way that our children pick up on. Maybe He is calling us to pray unceasingly for our children, that they may be protected from the evil in this world and grow up knowing the love of their Heavenly Father as well as that of their earthly mother and father. Maybe He is calling us to understand the huge responsibility He places on us when He gives His precious children into our care.

And maybe God is calling on us to call on Him for help and guidance in fulfilling the roles he has placed us in. As we seek to raise our children in ways that are pleasing to God, we do so knowing that we are not alone, but that we have God with us; the greatest example of a Father there ever is. 

Out of the mouths of babes....

Today, God spoke to me in a way so clear that I could not fail to hear Him. He spoke to me through a prayer that my two year old son prayed and, in doing so, He reminded me that He knows me, loves me and is with me always. 

To put things in context, I have found the last few weeks hard work. There's been nothing in particular that should make it so, but daily life has at times felt like a bit of a struggle: I guess it is probably just a combination of the daily juggling act that is looking after two small boys, and all the cooking, cleaning, shopping, and washing that goes with that. 

Everything is fine when we are out and about or with other people, but I have started to find the mornings and lunchtimes particularly difficult as I try and juggle looking after the children and meeting their needs with the things that need doing around the house, along with trying to get the three of us ready to go out to groups or visit friends. Everything just seems a bit never-ending! And as a result of all this I have started to find myself less patient with my children, particularly my two year old when he is doing what two year olds do best and being demanding!

Yesterday I spent the evening wallowing in self-pity, focusing on what I've not been doing right, or on the things that I'm finding hard. Hubby was doing his best to reassure me, but somehow his encouragements weren't sinking in. 

Fast forward to this morning and my son had found his book of children's prayers so we sat down together for a couple of minutes to read a prayer for the day. I asked him if he would like to say his own prayer too. He did. His prayer brought tears to my eyes as it was the closest thing to God giving me a hug that I could get. God took the things that were getting me down and completely turned them on their heads.

It reminded me how much God wants to speak and encourage us in what we are doing, particularly when we find things plain hard work. In whatever we do, I think it's amazing that we believe in a God who knows us so well, He can speak into our hearts in a way that stops us dead in our tracks and demands our attention as He tells us He loves us and is with us. 

The prayer my son prayed? "Thank you Jesus for Mummy."