Another Pink Toothbrush

I spent yesterday morning panicking and giggling with the husband. With one week to go 'til our due date, we sorted out the new baby's nursery. We went through the clothes that we have been given for the new arrival. According to the scan, this little bundle will be a pink one, which is slightly different to the numerous blue bundles we have brought home from the hospital over the years!

We sat and went through many pink, and fluffy, and floral, and pretty and frilly items of clothing. And we realised just how out of our comfort zone we are. With baby boys, you put a nappy on them, a vest, a top and trousers. Job done! But with girls, there seems to be a variety of options; You put a nappy on them, a vest (maybe one with frills on the shoulder, depending on what else they will wear), then you have to decide on tights or leggings or socks, before deciding on a dress or a top or a long top which could double as a dress, and then at this point you may put frilly knickers on the baby, which no one can see, but they match the vest, or the socks depending on what you previously decided. Then you put a cardigan on them, and the buttons match the unseen frills of the knickers, along with the button on the cute shoes! Simple, I guess an hour or so later she's dressed, until she throws up, and then you start the whole pretty process again?!

The husband has realised that he wont know what's going on with a little girl, whereas he looks at the boys and totally gets them (most of the time). He knows when they're being warriors, being egotistic, dealing with pride, being the clown, being a leader, taking a risk, rising to the challenge, stretching themselves, manning up etc. I look at them and see danger. I see bundles and wrestling and toilet humour. In our house, we do Lego, and weapons, and Nerf wars. We collect spiders and snails. We tie stuff up with string. We laugh at willies. We imagine what super hero powers we could have. We jump out at each other. We slide down hills on our muddy bottoms. We climb crazy high trees in the wind and we don't change our socks until mummy is gagging on the smell of them.

What a whole new world we are about to enter. A world of the unknown. A world of pink. A world of leggings and frills. A world of Barbies and My Little Ponies. A world of Flower Fairies and Ballet. A world of drama and emotion. But it won't be a world where we will just have to go for it and hope it all works out for the best, no not at all. It will continue to be a world where we will have to trust God with our parenting, like we always have done. We will not panic, we will trust that God knew exactly what He was doing when He sent us on this pink adventure. We will continue to thank Him for the arrows He has given us to send out and we will embrace the addition of another pink toothbrush in the house. Here we go.....

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." Philippians 4v6

 "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding." Proverbs 3v5

Keep Calm and Text Me

Last week, I was feeling just a bit fed up. I text the word "Poo" to a friend. She asked for an explanation, and for once it wasn't about poo in the literal sense. So I text her the following moans and groans.... "Because being pregnant and a mum, is all too hard and I can't do it and I feel like poo and my husband is tired and he's probably fed up serving me and dealing with me and I'm hosting small group tonight and a new lady is coming who needs to be welcomed, and I'm fed up and sad and angry and pathetic! Hence the poo..."

Like all good 'iron sharpening' friends, she asked me what I was planning to do about it all. I told her I had text her; that was my plan. So she sent me a link to a worship song. So annoying, I wanted a bit more 'poor you, life is hard for you' type stuff....But I clicked on the link and listened to the first verse (with a slightly stubborn heart); "God I look to you, I wont be overwhelmed. Give me vision to see things like you do. God I look to you, You're where my help comes from. Give me wisdom; you know just what to do".

And then I text the following to God....

"Oh God my Father. I am sorry for not looking to you, not coming to you. Please forgive me. And please 'Give me Vision, to see things like you do'. It is hard, I know I don't have to pretend it's not but it's not impossible. I know I can do ALL things through Christ who strengthens me.  All things, well that must mean parenting, because your word also says that You will tend your flock like a shepherd; You will gather the lambs in your arms.You will carry them in your bosom,and gently lead those that are with young. And I have young so you are gently leading me and carrying me close. What safer place is there?

And I know you're carrying this pregnancy, because you yourself are knitting her together in my womb, in the secret place. Seeing things the way you do is so much better than seeing things the way I do.

And to be honest, today I have felt a bit like poo but I seem to remember that it's not about how I feel, but who I am. (I may have even written a post on it recently - 'Who are Ya?')
I am righteous because of what Jesus has done and the righteous can draw near to you. And I am loved and accepted and an heir to your kingdom and an adopted child. And it is much better for me to dwell on this than dwell on how I feel. Help me to take my thoughts captive.

And my husband is genuinely tired. He may not actually be tired of serving me, I expect that's just my filter reading it that way. But even if he is, you're not tired of me. You're not even physically tired; you don't rest or sleep. You're a constant in my life. And you served me to the point of dying for me. Your love for me, and your patience never weakens. You are consistent. You will always have more for me than he will.

And yes I'm hosting small group, but you love hospitality! And yes there's a new lady coming, so I need to welcome her. But what a great opportunity to welcome her into the church family and feed her. You love when people feel welcomed in and taken care of. You even say in your word that when we do it for the least of people, we are doing it for you.
And after all, you welcomed me into your family when my life was a mess!

And so I may still feel a bit fed up with it all, even angry and sad and pathetic, but having the vision to see things as you do has lifted my soul and I thank you and praise you for that. Thank you for gathering me in the midst of my tantrum and for loving me and lifting me. Thank you that even when I make it all about me, your grace says that it's really not. It's all about you and you do reign even when it's poo. I love you Lord love Emma"

 Send...

Muddy Bottoms

I was a little worn out and emotional as I left church last week. We go to church at Brighton Racecourse, which is on the top of a big hill, and the boys were asking me if we could go down the hill, rather than walk around it.

At eight months pregnant, and worn out, I could definitely see the benefit of going round the steep hill. But I also knew that the walk would be much longer and more tiring, so I was quite torn and didn't quite know what answer to give the boys. Eventually they convinced me that they would help me and help the younger two, and with a few more "please mums", I gave in.

We got to the top of the hill and I explained the deal. I said that the oldest had to go first, followed by and helping the five year old. And that the second oldest had to go next, helping the three year old, and I would somehow bring up the rear. The boys were very reassuring and said they would take it slow for me and help me.

So I followed my little clan down the hill, a bit nervously and trying to convince myself that it was a better option than going the long way round. We got to a very steep part of the hill and my son explained to me that it was better if I slid down on my bottom for this bit. I said that I thought it was better for me to walk. Again he encouraged me to follow his lead in sitting and sliding. He said it would be easier and a lot more fun. I firmly stated that walking was easier for me. I took a couple of slippery steps, and then watched my four little men sliding their way down the hill.

I got down on my bottom and slid, and it was so much easier and a lot more fun than teetering down that hill.

When we got to the end of our descent, all giggles and muddy bottoms, I explained to my son that I had been reluctant to listen to his advice, and thought I knew better because I was older and he was just a boy. I explained that actually he did know what was best for me and that I definitely had more fun his way. I told him that there was a verse in the bible which explained that just because he was young, didn't mean people shouldn't listen to what he has to say. And that he can be an example, even to his mum.

"Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity."
1 Timothy 4:12

 

 

The Good, The Bad & The Ugly

Today one of my sons made some good choices and some bad choices, which is a pretty regular occurrence for all of us really. In our house, we like to talk about these choices, especially with the husband. So I called my son into the kitchen, as it was a good time to talk to his daddy about his day.

My son was reluctant to come into the kitchen. He knew from earlier in the day that we were going to talk to daddy about it all. Sometimes I tell them in a wonderful controlled motherly manner that we need to talk to dad about it, and sometimes I may as well be saying, "I'm gonna tell dad on you". We try to develop an atmosphere where the boys feel comfortable to talk about the good, the bad and the ugly, or even the weird, the wonderful and the embarrassing?!

In my boy walked with his head low, fingers awkwardly in his mouth and his tail between his legs. He said he didn't want to talk about it, and I knew how he felt. Who wants to chat about their day when they've made mistakes? (In fact, the husband does have to do the same with his reluctant wife at times). The husband scooped him onto his lap and said to him, "do you know what, we're going to talk about the bad choices first and then the good choices, and for both of them, I still love you".

My boy explained his day to his dad; he had mean with his words and silly in the kids work at church. The husband told him how both these things were indeed bad choices. My son then told his dad how he had taken himself to a calm area during kids work, and how he had then listened well to the team. The husband told him how both these things were good choices and how he was proud of him. He then tipped his son upside down and kissed him. My boy asked if he was getting a smack, and his dad said no, unless he wanted one of course, which he found funny! He then ran off back into the lounge.

As I watched this interaction, I knew a God prompting was going on. I felt encouraged that my Heavenly Father always welcomes me to come and talk to Him, whether its something good, bad or ugly, (or even weird, wonderful or embarrassing). And I recognised little old me in that reluctant, ashamed boy, who didn't really want to chat. But the reassurance before he even began talking, that His daddy loved him no matter what He said or what he had done, was of course a reflection on how God loves me. And my Heavenly Father is always like that, He is consistent with His love and acceptance of me, whereas the husband can't say that to be true all the time. It was also interesting to see my son ask if there was discipline involved. I know I often think God is going to tell me off, forgetting that actually Jesus died on the cross for all the bad choices I have made and therefore He'd rather tip me upside down and kiss me.

"In him and through faith in him we may approach God with freedom and confidence." Ephesians 3v12

Who Are Ya?

A friend of mine recently encouraged me with some verses from her study bible. I decided to send them on to a friend of mine, who could also do with the encouragement that these verses had brought me.

In the subject part of the email, I had written 'Who are ya?', but she had read it as 'How are ya?' and in her head she had answered 'I feel terrible'. It was only when she read the email and the verses included that she realised what I had actually written.

The verses were all about who she is in Christ. And i thought it was actually quite interesting and revealing that she thought I was asking how she was feeling rather than asking her who she is. How often do we 'do life' according to how we feel, or according to our circumstances? Rather than doing life according to who we are in Christ and what the Bible says about us; what our Heavenly Father says about us.

How often do we parent according to how we feel, rather than who we are in Christ, and who our kids are in Christ? How often do we respond with a tone or look because of how we feel, rather than the truth of who we are? How often do we judge others according to how we feel about them, rather than who they actually are in Christ? How often do we dwell on and mull over how we feel; our fears and worries, what is going on around us and what people think of us, rather than the wonderful biblical blessings, truths and promises from God? It changes perspective quite a bit. So today I ask, 'Who are ya?' not 'How are ya?'

Romans 3:24 - I am justified (declared "not guilty" of sin)
Romans 8:1 - No condemnation awaits me
Romans 8:2 - I am set free from the law of sin and death
1 Corinthians 1:2 - I am sanctified and made acceptable in Jesus Christ
1 Corinthians 1:30 - I am righteous and holy in Christ
1 Corinthians 15:22 - I will be made alive at the resurrection
2 Corinthians 5: 17 - I am a new creation
2 Corinthians 5:21 I receive God's righteousness
Galatians 3:28 - I am one in Christ with all other believers
Ephesians 1:3  I am blessed with every spiritual blessing in Christ
Ephesians 1:4 - I am holy, blameless and covered with God's love
Ephesians 1:5,6 I am adopted as God's child
Ephesians 1:7 - My sins are taken away and I am forgiven
Ephesians 1:10-11 I will be brought under Christ's headship
Ephesians 1:13 - I am marked as belonging to God by the Holy Spirit
Ephesians 2:6  I have been raised up to sit with Christ in glory
Ephesians 2:10 - I am God's work of art
Ephesians 2: 13  I have been brought near to God
Ephesians 3:6 - I share in the promise in Christ
Ephesians 3:12 - I can come with freedom and confidence into God's presence
Ephesians 5:29, 30 - I am a member of Christ's body, the church
Colossians 2:10 I have been given fullness in Christ
Colossians 2:11 - I am set free from my sinful nature
2 Timothy 2:10 I will have eternal glory

A Confident Approach

The husband was out at a prayer meeting, and I had finally managed to get all the boys in their different beds at varying times. (After of course, the provision of drinks, stories, answers to life's questions, leaving lights on and getting the uniforms ready). I came downstairs and cleared up the aftermath of dinner, while putting the littlest one back in bed a couple of times. This was stretching the patience a little. I then literally fell into the sofa and 'crashed'. I felt like I couldn't do one more thing if I tried, and imagined the bath being run for me, and maybe someone even carrying me up to bed.

That's when I heard footsteps on the landing. There was nothing at all that a child needed so I just said up the stairs, "back in bed please". Whoever it was started the brave descent down the stairs. I actually wanted to cry. I wanted to be left alone. I had given out and served and reached the end of my capacity. "Go to bed" I said in a louder, more desperate tone. My five year old son, who gets growing pains occassionally, cried out "but mum my legs are sore". And what was my motherly, loving reaction? I shouted back at him, "I don't care! Get in your bed". He ran upstairs crying and I rang the husband crying. I told him through sobs how wrong I'd got it, and he said I needed to go and say sorry and ask God for help and grace once again!

So I headed upstairs with a hot water bottle and told my boy how wrong I had been and how sorry I was. I asked him for his forgiveness and reassured him that I did in fact care. He gave me a quivering lip cuddle and forgave me, in that way five year olds just do!

I headed back downstairs, and opened the Bible app on my phone. I read from Hebrews and came across this wonderful verse in Hebrews 4v16;
"Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need".

I received a text from the husband asking how it was going, and I replied that I was sheepishly approaching the throne of grace. The husband's reply was "lift your head, you are His beloved daughter and He is boldly taking strides toward you". This of course, made me cry even more. But I realised that I had only taken part of the verse seriously. I knew I could approach the throne of grace but I was doing so in guilt and shame with my head held low. The verse actually encourages me to draw near, in confidence. Why in confidence? Because of what Jesus had already done and dealt with by dying on the cross. All my sin, like shouting "I don't care" at my son, had already been punished at the cross. I just needed to say sorry and with my head held high, approach that wonderful throne to receive mercy and grace to help me in my time of need, so that's just what I did.

The Husband

Ten years ago, I walked down the aisle on my dad's arm, to a young fresh faced set of brothers. One was the best man;  my best friend from my youth  and one was his younger brother....the husband. And although he looked like he could have been a page boy rather than the groom, the adventure started there....

We got married in his last year of university and lived  in a cosy one bedroom flat, where we had our first boy 17 months later. At this point we lived on a small wage, as the husband volunteered for the church. A small wage and a huge provision from God. We learnt a lot that year about faith in a faithful God, and trusting Him wholeheartedly. Eight and a half years later, three more boys, a stint in emergency accommodation, a lot of old cars, bidding for our now nearly finished  house, leading a church in a racecourse, and being pregnant again is where we find ourselves today.

And today, I look back and I look forward with a grateful heart. The husband is and never has been perfect, he has never claimed to be. Not perfect, but definitely unique and definitely perfect for me. I don't know anyone else like him; he sings all of the time and often at me, whether I'm in the mood to hear it or not. He makes me laugh so much, not quite as much as I make him laugh, but that's the way it is and that's the way it shall forever be. He arranges meetings in his sleep and talks to me as if I should be awake. We have arrived at a church conference on the back of a pick up truck and we drove to Newday in a prop; yep that's the one God gave me!

He is a pioneer, an adventurer, a risk taker...dragging us all along for the ride. He's quicker than me to say sorry and quicker to forgive too. He serves and loves and cares for me, and for my boys and for those around him. He says things he just shouldn't say, he can't cook and he is known to eat frozen chocolate. 

He aims to love me in the same way Christ loves the church. It's a good aim, and I like it. Even when he misses, it's still a good aim to have. There have been definite times when we have both 'chosen to love' rather than it being about feelings, otherwise you just strangle each other. The husband's love for me, on the good days and the not so good days, points me back to Jesus. I know that Jesus alone is the one who is completely perfect, completely faithful, completely understanding and has completely laid His life down for me. 

So today on my tenth wedding anniversary, I want to thank for God His gift to me - the husband, my husband. I know of some not great husbands and some absent husbands. I know what a blessing it is to have one that not only sticks through thick and thin, but one who loves me, supports me, leads me and points me back to Jesus' unconditional husband love.

"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above..." James 1v17

It's a Celebration

For my birthday, I was given a box of Celebration chocolates by a friend of mine. Mostly a good range of chocolates, apart from the Milky Way ones which tend to get left at the bottom of the box, until the day when there's no other chocolate in the house so they'll have to do.

I put the box of chocolates in the middle of the lounge floor, next to some pens and paper and sat down. It didn't take long for curious little eyes and curious little little minds to engage in this sudden mysterious mummy act. One by one, they came and joined me on the lounge floor, even turning the tele off completely unprompted. "Is it a game?" "Are you gonna share them?" "Ooh, I like that one!" "What you doing mum?" came the questions, with some excited giggles and bottom wriggling.

I read them these verses; 
"Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." 1 Thessalonians 5v11

"Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing." Philippians 4v8

I told them that we were going to encourage one another and build each other up, by focussing on whatever was lovely and admirable about each other. We were going to take turns to choose one person, write something true, encouraging and good about that person and celebrate who they were by giving them a chocolate. After the barrage of questions, which basically were different versions of "Do I get to eat some chocolate?", we began our little exercise in putting the bible into yummy practise. For about ten minutes, my boys honoured one another, the bible was taught and chocolate was eaten! A good day's work in Mummyville really.

Mummyville

So only a couple of wonderings over the summer...I wonder why?! Could it be those long, sunny and rainy summer holidays? The weeks of having a million children in my house? (Well actually only four, but it felt like more). The endless questions; 'Are trees made of paper?', 'Where do babies come out?' The fun activities? The camping? Newday? The beaches? The picnics? The Olympics? And the brain numbing hours tuned into the Cbeebies channel? Yeah that might be why I haven't sat down to write for a little while. Some wonderings have definitely gone through my head, but they have not made it out the other end, and they have definitely not made it into the written form. They have instead stayed locked up in a place called 'Mummyville'.

'Mummyville' is a strange old habitat indeed. It's a bit like living in Dr Seuss world. The Cat in the Hat is a favourite Dr Seuss character in our house, and I relate to him. He uses lots of words and rhymes and ramblings all at once, whilst juggling many things including a fish in a bowl and he does it all while balancing on a ball. He also has Thing one and Thing Two constantly by his side. I feel his pain, and he does have a lot of fun along the way!

You can't live in 'Mummyville' all the time. You have to take a vacation from it, just for a few minutes at least, to keep your sanity. Most mums try to step out of 'Mummyville' for a minute or two, by locking themselves in the toilet. But even then, the vacation isn't guaranteed. Little people come knocking, or they're even more intrusive than that.

Longer moments holidaying from 'Mummyville' are recommended in order to serve us mums, and help us to go a little less insane. That is why the summer holidays are a dangerous time indeed, as these much needed moments are few and far between.
If mums live in this strange old habitat for too long, like a period of six weeks say, they become ever so tired and delusional and are in deep need of a thing called...rest.

I heard a preach last week which covered resting; perfect, just what I needed. The guy said that not only do we need to rest, but that we need to recharge as well. I was all for hearing a preach about resting, and even quoting it to the husband in order to get a lie in, but the recharge bit I hadn't necessarily thought about.

He said we needed to be like David in 1Samuel 30, who "strengthened himself in the Lord, his God". It is true we need to"lie down in green pastures" like Psalm 23 says, but we also need God to "restore our souls". This really struck me and I prayed with a friend about it after our church service. She encouraged me the next day with an email recounting her crazy morning, where she wanted to crawl back into bed, but instead she chose to listen to some worship music on the way to work and she had felt her soul being restored.

So, I put the fish bowl down for a minute and got off of the ball. I stepped out of 'Mummyville' for a moment and opened the Bible. I allowed it to restore my soul and I put worship music on. Such wonderful truths I read, I felt blessed and plugged in and recharged before stepping back on the ball and picking up the fish bowl once more.

Yawn....

Last week, I seemed to reach new levels of tiredness. I think it was the combination of a few things; the summer holidays with the four boys, planned outings and fun activities, the relentlessness of parenting, the husband being pretty much unavailable due to prepping for a youth camp and me being six months pregnant! Combined, they all joined together to have a slightly mental effect on me.

I shed a few manic tears and laughed a few manic laughs, 'phoned a friend' rather than 'asked the audience' (the four boys) for advice and support. I ate chocolate to boost my energy levels and I shed a few tears. Oh, I said that one already. I have been like the mother from some kind of weird movie; my character is the lovable baddie who looks a little zombiefied. She shouts a little bit and says sorry, cries a little bit and then laughs a little bit. Occasionally she remembers to feed the other characters in the film, while cheering on a random Brit in the Olympics, only to cry a little more when the unknown person wins a medal in Judo or weightlifting. Probably not the best script for a film, but some may relate to the withered character taking centre stage...

And somewhere in the middle of it all, I built a den, put on a DVD, made a strong cuppa and opened the Bible. I read Ephesians 3v14-21 and dwelled on verse sixteen. 

"...that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being..."

Because God is rich in Glory, I can ask Him to grant me to be strengthened with power in my inner being. Wow! I definitely needed my inner being to be strengthened. And this verse seemed to suggest that I actually can be. Of course it made me cry again, but this time out of relief and understanding and renewed hope in a God who loves me and wants to strengthen me. I sang a tearful version of 'On Christ the solid rock I stand' with verse three in particular.

"His oath, His covenant, His blood,
Support me in the 'whelming flood.
When all around my soul gives way,
He then is all my Hope and Stay."

And I was reassured once more that God is my hope, no matter how tired I am, or how manic it all gets. His faithfulness remains the same forever, and He loves me in the midst of it all. The tiredness didn't suddenly get replaced with the 'Red Bull Effect', but my inner being was indeed strengthened.

 

A Time for Everything

The Summer Holidays, what a range of experiences and emotions they hold. People ask "How's your break going?", and some aspects are definitely a break from the norm. I'm naturally unorganised, so I hate the pressure that the school run adds to my life. Whereas getting up, putting the kettle on, allowing my eyes time to focus, and then sitting in my pjs is a sheer delight to me.

But then having some space while three are at school, means the house gets tidied and cleaned a lot more and there are moments where my mind doesn't have to think. It can actually be empty. Whereas having them all here, the toilets need cleaning as soon as I've cleaned them, and within seconds of hoovering there is another trail of sand and woodlice all over the carpet. My mind is constantly full, constantly whirring; answering life's questions, wondering where all the boys are, questioning why it's quiet, being ready with responses to the 'I'm bored' statements and planning ahead. And there are definitely more 'Brotherly Love' moments to speak peace into.


I absolutely love the school holidays, planning fun activities; sleepovers, junk modelling, bus trips, beach visits, Nerf wars and water fights but I'm reminded too that parenting is absolutely relentless, and biblical parenting seems even more so as it's a training of their hearts not their behaviour. I guess there is a time for everything, a season for every activity, and always an opportunity to teach. Here's an adaption of Ecclesiastes...

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time for school runs and a time for chilled mornings,
a time for book bags and a time for cbeebies,
a time for uniform and a time for pyjamas,
a time for packed lunches and a time for picnics,
a time for educational teaching and a time for biblical training,
a time for wellies and a time for sun cream,
a time for 6hrs respite during school days and a time for 13hr long holiday days,
a time to get a late mark and a time when it just doesn’t matter,
a time for P.E and a time to climb trees,
a time to sit still and a time to run free,
a time to look smart and a time to look like a lost boy,
a time to eat at lunch and a time to graze all day,
a time for learning and a time for learning

a time for school friends and a time for brothers.

"Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds; tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up"  Deuteronomy 11v18-19

An Apple A Day

We have been reading through Matthew with the boys. Just a few verses at a time, over breakfast. Some hugely successful mornings where a seed of truth has landed in their minds and brought challenge or encouragement, and some mornings where it felt as clear as if we had read a Dr Seuss tongue twister with them. We have been reading from the sermon on the mount in Chapter five, and because we've only covered a few verses a day, the boys do feel as if Jesus has been up that mountain for a rather long time explaining how people should live.

One day this week, we looked at 'A Tree and it's Fruit'. The husband asked us all if we could be any fruit-bearing tree, what one would we be. I fancied being a cherry tree. Banana, apple, mango and see-weed trees were also thrown into the mix. The husband read these verses and then chatted about what 'good fruit' might look like.

"So, every healthy tree bears good fruit, but the diseased tree bears bad fruit. A healthy tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a diseased tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus you will recognise them by their fruits." Matthew 7:17-20

We had written down a Summer Holiday 'To do' and 'To be' list, and the husband focused on the 'To be' part of the list; be kind, be generous, be honouring, be forgiving, be obedient, be loving etc. The husband explainined that these were 'good fruits' and that each one of them pointed to who Jesus is. The husband explained that neither the boys nor us parents could grow this fruit without God's help, so we had to choose one or two to ask God for. These moments can be pretty challenging because the boys hear what you're asking God for; 'patience' and to be a 'good example' in this instance!

When I went to the shop later in the day, one of my boys was too silly, disobedient and generally just hard work. I explained when we got in, that his behaviour was like growing rotten, smelly, gone-off fruit, and reminded him about what we had learnt in the morning. This little chat had a great impact on him. He had prayed at breakfast, for wisdom (making good choices) and God's help to be a good example, and he put these into practise. By the time his dad got home, he had grown some beautiful, fresh, healthy fruit . He led his younger brother well, being an example to him, he obeyed straight away, he didn't tantrum and he made good choices. He was able to share with his dad the different types of fruit he had grown that day.

I thought about this and realised that I am also able to share with my Heavenly Dad, what fruit I grow each day. I'm able to say sorry to Him for when I grow stinky, rotten, gone-off fruit, the ones I find at the bottom of the bowl. Usually I grow this fruit when I've decided I'm going to be an angry or an impatient tree! (I feel like I'm in Drama class now!)

I also know that He sees the good fruit which He has helped me to grow, maybe the kind of fruit that others don't necessarily see. Or maybe they do see, and it causes them to ask about the great gardener I know and how he plants seeds and causes growth and sometimes has to painfully prune the tree too, in order for good fruit to grow. I really don't want to grow rotten fruit, but without God, His word and His help, that is all I'll grow. Might need to go and check what's at the bottom of our fruit bowl.

Help, I Need Somebody

There are those wonderful times as a mum, where you find yourself throwing up in the toilet, and you still have to be mum. This was my experience last Sunday morning. We were all dressed and ready to get the bus to church, when I suddenly felt a bit funny in the tummy. I ended up locking myself in the loo and being sick.

My youngest serenaded me outside the door, with his new guitar which in itself was a joy. I had to try and shout to my eldest that I needed help, and he needed to get my phone off his brother. My other son wouldn't give the phone to his older brother, because he was playing a game on it.

From the bathroom, I had to explain why the phone was needed and why now wasn't a great time to argue. My boy, without a phone to distract him now decided to bug his guitar-playing brother, so there were screams coming from him. I shouted through the door something about being helpful, and the guitar serenade picked up again.

My eldest decided ringing dad was the best option, and usually he'd be right, but not when he's leading church. So through the door, I told him not to ring his dad. He then went for the 'Uncle Paul' option, which again on a normal day would have been a good choice. I was struggling to think straight, but knew that Uncle Paul may well be on church set up, so that wouldn't be great either. I told him to ring one of the ladies from the girl's house. He tried our friend Hannah, but it kept going to answer phone. My son was still convinced that Uncle Paul was his best option, and left slightly confusing messages on Hannah's answer phone saying this. With my tummy hurting and the tears wanting to fall, I said he should try one of the other ladies, Yvonne. I thought we were on the home stretch now, but my son came back to the closed door saying he couldn't spell Yvonne. It was hard to hear him over the guitar, but I managed to spell out her name.

I finally heard my eldest boy say, "My mum is sick and this house needs help". And I was relieved. I knew that help would come, because the ladies in that house, are just those kind of ladies. Five minutes later, the front door was opened to a Hannah and an Yvonne. I finally came out of the loo and burst out crying. A text on my phone came through, it was Psalm 46v1;

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble".

How true this verse is, and how present His help was to me in this moment. I was ushered up to bed, given a sick bowl and a drink, prayed for and the house fell silent as the boys were taken off to church. I was very grateful for God's help in the midst of trouble, and a refuge of sleep.

Please Sir, I Want Some More.

So a few days ago I paddled in the sea, while my youngest had a boat trip with his friends. Okay, so the sea was made of Bubble Wrap, and the boat was a cardboard box, and my son's friends were Octonauts, but still it was a lot of fun, and quite relaxing too! We were enjoying the boxes and the wrapping of post birthday fun; should have just wrapped the box, instead of buy the presents to go inside!

Before the box was a boat, it made it's debut as an oven. My son was mixing me a tasty dinner, and acting out being me. I always find it rather amusing and embarrassing when they say my phrases, in my tone, with my expressions. It can be quite a good reflection of how they see motherhood; usually they say things like "we're going to be late, come on".

Anyway, I was being made a yummy invisible dinner; lots of mixing and noise and I could imagine the mess if he was truly being me in the kitchen! The dinner, along with the plastic bowls, and wooden spoons were put in the oven to cook. We tasted it and it was yummy in our tummies. We drank our imaginary drinks too, and it was a fun activity to pass the morning together.


I snuck into the kitchen and made some real juice and a real cuppa, grabbed some breadsticks and chocolate and put them in the bowls. My son was surprised and excited by the sudden realness of our little picnic. And I honestly believe that after drinking pretend juice out of a plastic beaker, that was the best cuppa I've ever tasted. It made me think of how lavish and good God is. He blesses us out of the ordinary with things which are extraordinary. He surprises us with His provision. He knows what we need and even want, before we ask it of Him. He continues to surprise and excite me as I see evidence of His realness. I love that my boy hadn't even asked for real snacks in our play time, it was just a fun and generous mummy thing to do for him. And my father in Heaven loves to do the same for me. If my boy had asked me, I would have probably still said yes to Him.

This morning over breakfast, we looked at Matthew 7v7-9;
"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.  For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.
‘Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!"

The husband shared with the boys some recent gifts from God; flight money for our upcoming holiday and a longed-for baby born to friends of ours this week. He asked the boys to pray for specific things that fit in with God's will. It did leave me wondering if I pray specifically enough about my needs and wants, and I was sure that God could and would give me even more than breadsticks, tea and chocolate. I just need to ask Him for more.

Wherever I Am, There's Always Pooh

Last week I experienced one of those moments, which really highlights some of the wonders of motherhood. I was in the park with three out of four of the boys, waiting for the last one to finish his after school club. My almost three year old was testing to see if the boundaries of disobedience were the same in a park as they are in the house, which of course they are. I had approached him as he wasn't responding to me, and that's when I realised that he had wet himself, which may have been part of the reason for him not coming to me.

I explained that I needed to change his trousers, so he held my hand and we walked over to the buggy. I quickly pulled them off, and it was as the poo rolled onto my hand and hit the playground floor, that I realised my son had actually had more than a wet accident. These are the moments in life which no one ever prepares you for, no matter what books you read.

I sat for a few seconds wondering what to do and gritted my teeth as another child in the park told me I shouldn't bring pooey babies there. I reached into my bag only to realise that I had made a rookie mistake; I had left the house without baby wipes! Who does that after eight years and four children? I even recently gave a mum-to-be a survival kit; consisting of wipes, anti-bacterial gel, wine, Calpol and chocolate. I could have done with this kit on that day.

My other two boys came to watch/help my disastrous moment. They offered to get me some leaves to clean my poo covered hand. I don't remember answering them with my best motherly, calm and gentle tone, and I washed my hand with Ribena instead. I pulled my boy's trousers up and tried to pull his shirt down a bit more to disguise his mishap. He then went off to play again, and I chose to ignore exactly how he was heading off to play for  a good ten minutes, before getting my other son from his after school club.

When we reached home, I showered my son while squirting bubble bath all over his rear. I threw his pants away, replenished my bag with wipes, cleaned the buggy, and then finally an hour later cleaned my odd smelling hand with anti-bacterial soap. As I was doing so, I wondered whether there was a God-moment I could grasp for. I thought back to the morning when I had met with some other mums and we had looked at Ephesians 2 together. The verse which sprung to mind was verse 10;"For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." I held on to the fact that God created us mums to do good works, which He prepared in advance for us to do. This whole experience could quite easily go under the 'good works' title for sure, like the clause on a job description "And anything else the job requires".

Big Fat Mistake

Previous post; Big Fat Love

After reading the story of Jonah to my son, I decided to have a read of it in my own picture-less, grown up bible. I managed to save myself a fair bit of embarrassment by not asking the husband which book of the bible I could find it in and started reading.

I just love how the bible is full of characters who completely mess up, making big fat mistakes, and Jonah is one of those characters. He chose to ignore the almighty, all-powerful creator of the universe, and then run away to Tarshish and hide from Him. As if God didn't know where Tarshish was! It's a little like playing Hide & Seek with my youngest; his best hiding place is either in the corner of a room or in the cupboard under the stairs, after he has told us of course, that he is going to hide in the cupboard under the stairs.


It's quite easy to judge Jonah, he did after all make some pretty foolish mistakes. But then again, it's quite easy to relate to the guy too. I swing between thinking I wouldn't even dream of disobeying God and hiding from Him, to realising that I probably do both regularly. I find that I can sometimes look at the boys in a similar way too. It's just so easy to see their foolish mistakes, in comparison with my own life. I mean I don't scream and stomp, I don't laugh at my brother when he's upset. I don't remember the last time I snatched something off someone. I don't break up Lego models because I'm desperate for one of the bricks. I don't think I've ever drawn on newly painted walls and I never say willy and bottom just to make people laugh.
(Okay, that last one might not actually be true).

Jonah looked at the people of Ninevah and only saw their foolish mistakes. He was angry, because God showed them mercy and compassion when they repented, instead of destroying them. After all, Jonah thought they deserved to be destroyed because they had disobeyed God. Hang on a minute there Jonah, didn't you do a similar thing? Didn't you disobey Him too? And didn't God show you mercy and compassion when you repented, in the belly of a big fish? What gives you the right to judge them?

That Jonah, constantly making more foolish mistakes. Maybe God shouldn't have shown him such grace, he just didn't deserve it. But then, hang on a minute Emma, don't you regularly do a similar thing? Don't you disobey God too? And doesn't He show you mercy and compassion when you repent? What gives you the right to judge Jonah, or your kids or anyone else for that matter?

Thankfully there is only one great judge, and He was merciful and compassionate towards Jonah and the people of Ninevah, because He judged Jesus for their sin instead. In fact, God is merciful and compassionate to all who repent of their foolish mistakes, all who repent of their sin. And thankfully, this includes me, and my kids and anyone else. Would any of us really want it any other way?

"Brothers and sisters, do not slander one another.
Anyone who speaks against a brother or sister or judges them speaks against the law and judges it.
When you judge the law, you are not keeping it, but sitting in judgment on it. 
There is only one Lawgiver and Judge, the one who is able to save and destroy.
But you – who are you to judge your neighbour?"
James 4v11-12

Big Fat Love

Previous Post; Big Fat NO

As I read the simple bible story of Jonah to my boy, I was struck again by God's mercy and unfathomable love, not only to a stubborn, disobedient character but also to a God-less city of thousands of people.

I explained to my son that God continued to show Jonah His love, by providing a vine to shade him from the sun, even when he was having a tantrum at God. I explained that God also showed His love to the undeserving people of Nineveh, by not destroying their city. It was a great way to lead into telling my son again about the cross. I explained to my boy, that not only has he done wrong things, but that I've done wrong things too. My son again reminded me of when I get cross at him, and I explained that that was exactly what I meant. I reminded him of when he says NO to me, or disobeys me, or does wrong things. I also named a few other people, including people he thought very highly of, and I said that they had all done wrong things too.

I talked to my boy about the fact that when he does wrong things, he needs to be told off and disciplined for it. Jonah's discipline was a little harsher than my boys get. I have never thrown them overboard nor have I caused a big fish to swallow them. (Something they should be a little more grateful for, I think!)

I explained that Jesus had never done anything naughty or wrong, so he never needed to be told off and yet he got really told off by His father, God. My boy asked me why Jesus got told off. And I delighted in telling him, that God loved him so much, He told Jesus off instead of him, and that God loved me so much, He told Jesus off instead of me. And that actually that telling off was really big, it meant Jesus had to die on a cross.

It was a great moment to share with my boy, that every time he says NO, or gets cross, or is selfish, God keeps on loving him. And that every time I get cross, or I am selfish or I say NO (or 'not yet') to God, God keeps on loving me. He just can't stop loving us both, like He couldn't stop from loving Jonah or the people of Nineveh. My boy smiled and I smiled with him, because it is just such a wonderful truth to dwell on, even for just a minute before bedtime.

"keep yourselves in God’s love
as you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life."
Jude 1v21

Next post; Big Fat Mistake

Big Fat NO!

Tonight's bedtime story for my four year old was that of Jonah. As I read the story, I realised that I was about to tell a story about disobedience, to a child who sometimes tries the whole concept of disobedience, so I thought this would either be a great teaching opportunity or a whole lot of fun!

I made the point clearly, that Jonah said a big fat NO to God and then he ran away from God. We read that after Jonah had said NO, God sent a fierce storm and then a fish to swallow him up. My son reminded me that when he says NO, I sometimes get cross, and then he proceeded to show me the cross face that I do. Putting that to one side, I started to explain to him that God knew what was best for Jonah, in the same way that God knows what is best for him, and that saying YES to mummy and daddy is part of that.

We looked at what happened to Jonah when he had said NO to God, and my boy asked me why Jonah had said NO. I explained that Jonah thought his way was better, and he wanted to do his own thing, in the same way that when my son says NO to me, he is saying that he knows better and he wants to do his own thing.

We then read how, in the belly of a big fish, Jonah said sorry to God and then said a big fat YES to Him. Jonah finally obeyed what God had asked him to do. I explained to my boy, that asking him to say YES to us, was us training him to say YES to God. I told him that as he got older, God was going to ask him to follow Him. God was going to ask my boy to go places, to give money to the church, to marry someone who loved Jesus, and that we want him to say YES to God when He asks him to do these and many other things.

I think it helped me realise again why I spend hours and hours a day training these little people I've been entrusted with. Any older person will tell you that these young years fly by so fast, and it's true. My boys are only going to be little children for a little while, especially in comparison with their adult years, and more importantly, eternity. So with God's help and grace I need to make the most of these training years, to ensure they get the knowledge, security and tools they need to go into their adult years. God has great plans and purposes for them. He wants to use them. He wants to use their strengths and their weaknesses. He wants them to say YES to Him, to follow Him and to serve Him.
Why? Because He wants good, well-behaved children? Big Fat NO, because He wants obedient radical sons trained up and passionate for His kingdom and His glory.

Bring on tomorrow's training!

"In fact, this is love for God: to keep his commands.

And his commands are not burdensome, 

for everyone born of God overcomes the world."

1 John 5v3-4

"Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.

 ‘Honour your father and mother’– which is the first commandment with a promise – ‘so that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth."

Ephesians 6v1-3

Next Post; Big Fat Love

Smiley Faces & Sad Faces

"Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn."

Romans 12v15

This verse seems to sum up some aspects of motherhood. Laying in my bed last night, on top of 'vomit protective' towels with my poorly sad two year old, made me really feel for him. But doing the 'wee wee' dance with him, when he gets one in the potty is something to rejoice over.

Celebrating my son's high tree climb in gale force winds is something to 'whoop-whoop' over, and even video but comfort is required and a sadness is felt when he falls over at school and cracks his head open.

Smiley faces all round when my four year old comes home with a certificate, but sad faces arrive when I realise that I should have emptied the book bag sooner as the certificate is a few days old and now he's crying that I celebrated on the wrong day.

A high-five for my eldest who gets invited out to a friend's party, but an understanding hug for when one of his friends shows a lack of care towards him.

There are times when I rejoice with the boys and times I rejoice for them, when they don't know about it. Likewise, there are times when I mourn with them, and times I mourn for them. I can only guess that this will continue as they grow up. Sometimes I'm much better at the 'whoop-whoop, smiley, dancing, high-five' moments. They're definitely the more fun moments to experience together. The understanding, 'I'm sorry for you' moments, can be harder moments to go through, especially if I'm busy or if they're over reacting, or they're tired. If they're feeling sorry for themselves or sin is involved, then it is tougher to stop and hear them out. 

I know how important it is to enjoy their smiley face moments, and teach them that all good moments are a gift from God. But I know it is just as important to try and understand where they are coming from during their sad face times; to listen and mourn with them and teach them through their mourning. I seem to recall the occasional moment (and the rest) where I've over-reacted, or been emotional due to tiredness or felt sorry for myself, even when sin is involved. And in those moments I know that my Heavenly Father is totally available for me. He loves when I share my joyful moments with Him and equally He is willing to listen to my cry or rant, regardless of where my heart is at. I want to show my boys a glimpse of God's care for them by rejoicing with them and mourning with them. Again, His unconditional love and fathering of me inspires me to be a better mum, through the laughter and the tears.

Following In Father's Footsteps

Recently we had a family holiday which was everything it needed to be; sun, sea, rock climbing, cave exploring, ice creams, extra adults to buy those ice creams and a giant dead crab. It was relaxing and tan-enhancing for me, whilst being exciting, sandy, wet and adventurous for four little boys (and one big one).

There were two moments on holiday, where I caught glimpses of my little boys growing into little men. One moment involved my eldest boy. Me, him and the husband had gone rock climbing to look at some caves. The husband had jumped across some water and assured me that when I jumped I wouldn't fall over, even though it was extremely slippery and I was wearing flip flops. As I picked my self up from the inevitable fall, my emotions got the better of me. The husband asked my eldest to step away while I told the husband off, cried at him, forgave him and hugged him as I started to put my really sensible flip flops back on.

We carried on with the adventure; the husband's trainers on my feet and the husband sporting a nice pair of green flips flops. My eldest stayed close by, reassuring me, telling me how great I was doing, looking after me, and finding an easier route for me to climb. Part of me wanted to tell him that I was totally fine and that he should stop fussing, but I knew he was doing what his dad had taught him. He was being a little man!

The second moment involved my four year-old. We had gone for a walk in a forest, and the route back involved walking down quite a steep hill. The descent needed tiny little steps to stay upright. I had the buggy to keep me balanced and the husband and his brother were making headway with the boys. At this point, my son looked back up the hill to see my sister in law teetering down the hill on her own. He walked back up the hill., and after telling her that he was going to marry someone even prettier than her, he handed her a big stick. He had been using the branch to keep his balance as he scrambled down the hill. He told her that she needed it more than he did. He also said that because she was a lady, it was his job to help her. My little boy was being a little man.

I was just so proud of my little men. They were following in their father's footsteps; learning to care for the ladies in their lives and preparing to be considerate husbands.

"Husbands, in the same way be considerate as you live with your wives,
and treat them with respect as the weaker partner
and as heirs with you of the gracious gift of life,
so that nothing will hinder your prayers."   1 Peter 3v7