Q&A

Any one of our past lodgers would say that they have heard unique phrases and questions living under our roof. The boys do tend to ask and do the funniest things. One of my boys stood in the kitchen last week, with nothing but gloves and socks on. One of those moments where as a mum you want to ask "Why?", but you know there is no answer.

I've been asked many wonderful questions by the boys, like 'Why haven't you got a willy yet mummy?', and 'If Aslan took his hood off, would he really be Scooby do?'  A friend of mine got asked if her boobies were her boobies and could they be touched? And the husband got the classic, 'Daddy, why is that cow giving that other cow a piggy back ride?' There is definitely a temptation to not answer them sometimes, or not go into great detail. But we encourage their questions, and answer them truthfully (for their age and understanding) because we want them to know that they can ask us absolutely anything, and that we will be honest in our reply. I love that I can come to God with all my questions too; the intriguing ones and the doubting ones, and He loves to answer me with His truth.

There are some questions which are a sheer joy to answer. The ones which just seem to melt a mother's heart. I was asked one of these questions recently by my four year old;
"Mum, where did God get the instructions to make me?"

Ah what a beautiful question. And what a delight to be able to give him my answer. I explained that God just thought about him right from the beginning. He knew exactly who my boy was going to be. He knew that my boy would be jumpy and smiley, feisty and funny. He knew all about his hair and his eyes. He knew all about his character and his love of putting socks on his hands. He even knew he would stand in my kitchen a little under dressed. God just knew of him, before he was even a thought in my mind. God simply didn't need instructions. I read him Psalm 139 and told him that God always knew exactly what He was doing when he made him.

"You created every part of me;
you put me together in my mother's womb.
  I praise you because you are to be feared;
all you do is strange and wonderful.
  I know it with all my heart.
When my bones were being formed,
  carefully put together in my mother's womb,
when I was growing there in secret,
  you knew that I was there
you saw me before I was born." Psalm 139v13-16

I Can Do It By Myself

Dear God,

I am sorry for

Raising my voice at the kids

and

Sighing about the husband working late

and

Putting my needs above his

and

Using a disrespectful tone

and

Serving the family begrudgingly

and

Wishing they'd appreciate me more

and

Shouting and snapping

and

Being impatient with people

and

Putting my needs above theirs

and

Moaning and complaining

and

Not bearing any good fruit

and

Not getting up early to read your word

and

Being too busy to pray

Actually God,

Please forgive me for

Thinking I can do all the above without you

and

Do it all in my own strength

and

For being self sufficient

and

Too proud to ask you for help

and

For not reading your word

and

Not seeking your will

and

Not trusting you

and

Not spending time with you

Amen

"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."

Hebrews 4v16

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.

Psalm 91v1

The Life Of a Dishcloth (Part Two)

So now I have this daily reminder that the life of a dishcloth is not dissimilar to my own life; the clean ups, the dryness at times, the smell and the daily soakings. It got me thinking even more about the dishcloth. I guess when you spend a lot of time with the same object, such as the time I spend with my dishcloth, you start to bond....Who knows tomorrow's blog may be about the hoover!

Anyway, I felt God remind me of another cloth which was in the kitchen drawer; 
a new, pretty, flowery cloth!
I knew that God was telling me that He doesn't look at me and see a dirty, stained, smelly cloth. That's what I once was before I knew Jesus. Before He had redeemed me, and in fact when He met me, I was dirty, I was stained and I carried the stench of sin on me. I was less like a dishcloth and more like an gross old rag. That's what sin looks like. And no amount of cleaning that rag in my own strength, with my own methods would make it anywhere near clean. In the same way that  when my son took a sip of bleach, he was actually no cleaner. (He just smelt like a swimming pool and the A&E nurse sent us back home!)

But when Jesus died on the cross, He took all the dirt, the stains, the stench and put them all on Him. They died with Him and in return, I got His beauty and His Righteousness. He took a dirty old rag and replaced it with a beautiful, clean, stain free, flowery, unused cloth, in really loose analogy terms of course! He never sees me like my dishcloth on it's worst days, He sees me as a completely new creation. Not a better version of the old, but something completely new. What an identity!

In order to remain in the truth of this identity, I still need to soak in God's presence, His truth, His word. Otherwise I will start to see myself as the old rag again and that's just not who I am. The times when I feel like that old, stained rag, or yesterday's dishcloth, are the times I have let myself dry out on the side, rather than soak in the truth of what Jesus has done for me and the truth of who I am in Him. Ah how the life of a dishcloth can mirror my life indeed!

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation;
        the old has gone, the new has come!"
                                                                 2Corinthians 5v17

The Life Of a Dishcloth (Part One)

Last Sunday at church, one of the elders had a picture of a dried up dish cloth. He said that God had shown him a picture of a cloth on the side of a sink, which was dry and really in need of getting in the water. 
I thought of the cloth which lives on the side of my sink, at home. It does get used quite a lot; slaving away at the plates and mugs and saucepans, wiping the table after breakfast, lunch and dinner, clearing up spills of milk, juice and coffee.

The life of a mother and the life of a dishcloth are closely intertwined it seems. The dish cloth can look quite tired and worn out. Yep, that sounded like me that day. The dish cloth can become easily stained as it delves into whatever mess it has to clear up. Yep, me again. Sometimes I look at my clothes at the end of the day and I can't even name what it is that has found it's way onto me. (The worst of these moments is when there is no time to change and we're out at a church meeting or guests arrive for dinner!) The dish cloth can even start to smell a bit, that slightly stagnant smell. Ditto! Ah how the life of a dishcloth can mirror my life indeed! I was feeling all washed up on the side of the sink of life.The every day jobs, (which I'd started seeing as chores) of being a mum and a wife had left me feeling washed up, dried up, stained, over used and possibly verging on smelling quite bad too! Was God really telling an elder at church that I was in need of a shower?

I knew that the cloth on the side of my sink was in desperate need of a soaking. In it's dried up state it was of no use to anyone. It needed to soak in hot, soapy water, washing powder and even bleach. Thankfully God wasn't telling me publicly that I needed to have a shower, but instead that I needed a good soak. So I told the elder that I was indeed the dishcloth, and He and some female friends prayed for me. My Heavenly Father was gently reminding me yet again to come into His loving arms and soak in Him. I humbly came into His presence and asked Him to revive and refresh this worn out, tired and stained old dish cloth. In my dried up state, I too was of no use to anyone. I realised that 'serving' only feels like chores when I'm not soaking in God. Stains only feel permanent when I'm not soaking in the truth of being washed clean. Feeling tired and worn out just remain the same, unless I jump into Living Water. And even that  unpleasant stagnant smell only leaves with a good soak in Radox. Now when I look at the dish cloth on the side of the sink, I do smile at the life that it has, and the reminder that it holds for me.

"Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out,

that times of refreshing may come from the Lord,"

                                                                                  Acts 3v19

I reckon there is more to say on The Life Of a Dishcloth.

Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire

Today my son lied to me. One of those 'little' lies. He said a no when he should have said a yes. When I asked him why? He shrugged. He wasnt sure, it just happened, he just didn't want to get in trouble.

Yesterday I lied to a mum on the school run. One of those 'little' lies. I said a yes when I should have said a no. I asked myself why? I shrugged. I wasn't sure, it just happened, I just wanted her to like me.

Why did we lie? Because we both feared man, more than we feared God. My son feared a telling off, so he quickly lied. And I feared the mum's rejection, so I quickly lied. If we had both feared God, we wouldn't have worried what man thought. We would have cared what God thought, and we would have told the truth! We would have both realised that a 'little' lie, is a lie. A lie is a sin. And God hates sin.

My son was disciplined because he had lied to me. And he had to say sorry, but was quickly forgiven. I humbly had to tell the mum I had lied to her, but was quickly 'let off' (as opposed to forgiven). And I had to say sorry to God, because the sin was actually against Him. Thankfully, I was quickly forgiven.

"Behold, you delight in truth in the inward being,
and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart."

                                                      Psalm 51v6

Navel-Gazing

A blog post written by a pregnant, overdue friend of mine. (Wife of 'One Blue Toothbrush')

Navel Gazing; (Oxford Dictionary Definition) 'complacent concentration on oneself or a single issue at the expense of a wider view'.

The last 6 days have been challenging. I have been somewhat absorbed in waiting for the arrival of the next Simmo baby! On Monday I had a few quiet moments while the two big girls were at school and the little one was sleeping, so I decided to open my bible. I have started reading the Chronological Bible this year; I’m a few days behind but turned to the right date and read “Who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge? Brace yourself like a man” Job 38:1-3

Ouch!! There I was thinking I was going to turn to a comforting piece of scripture and instead my heavenly Dad, who loves me and delights in me, thought it was time I stopped sulking and started looking up! In the passage, God continues to question Job; asking Job where he was while He was creating. As I read on I felt my gaze lifted to the God of heaven who holds all things in His hands and is more than able to sustain me in the last weeks of pregnancy. 

Since then I’d love to say that I have responded with grace to all those well meaning people who ask if I’m ‘still here?’ or ask 'has the baby come yet?', I'd love to say that I’ve been kind to the girls when they’ve frustrated me, that I’ve put Matt first but it wouldn’t be true! However there have definitely been times when I’ve chosen to lift my eyes off myself and onto the One who can help me.


Today, I could have chosen to stay shut away, waiting impatiently for this baby or instead believe that God has things for me to do today. It was such a joy to be able to pray with a friend this morning, to help lift her gaze, to point her to Jesus and hopefully encourage her. 


Lifting our eyes off of ourselves and our circumstances and fixing our eyes on our Heavenly Father changes everything. It changes our perspective to look to the One who has laid the foundations of the earth. Declaring truth to one another and to ourselves gives strength and stops us navel-gazing!

“I lift my eyes up to the hill. 

From where does my help come? 

My help comes from the Lord,

who made heaven and earth.”

                                   Psalm 121:1

Marlon and Me

A rare treat in our house; my son chose 'Finding Nemo' to watch today. It's a treat because the older two have grown out of it, or so they think. And the younger two (influenced by their older brothers) tend to choose films with spies in them, or superhero dogs or Jedi knights. So I was happy that calm and gentle Nemo was chosen today. I made the choice to sit and watch it with them, zone out for a while, rather than think about the washing and the dirty plates which wanted my attention.

As I was watching, I realised that the whole story of Nemo getting lost, is pretty much all his dad Marlon's fault. He starts off a bit on the over protective side; so fearful for his son. He jumps to the wrong conclusion about Nemo. He assumes he was about to make a bad choice, and swim out to the butt. But actually Nemo was explaining to his friends that his dad wouldn't want him to. He then doesn't listen to Nemo, and then embarrasses Nemo in front of his friends!

Oh Marlon, why must you remind me of my own parenting? Must I really compare myself to a Clown Fish? Why cant I just watch the film, and enjoy it? I don't want to be challenged about not listening to my children. I don't want to think that there is the possibility that I may jump to the wrong conclusions about their actions. I definitely don't want to think that sometimes I tell them off publicly and embarrass them, rather than deal with their behaviour in private. It would have been easier to go and do the washing and the dirty plates, rather than think about these things.

Oh Marlon, Marlon, Marlon why wont you accept Dory's help, when you need it to help your son? Are you really that proud? She may have a few issues, but does that mean you can't give her the time of day? I wonder if I've missed someone's advice because I've pre judged them? Or missed their help because I was too proud? What if they were right? What if they could actually speak whale?

Marlon, my fishy friend, I watch and see how wrong you get it, but I also see the love that you have for your boy. And I'm happy to compare myself to you now. You make some bad choices, and you do let your boy down. But you do fight for his life, you do go to extreme measures in order to rescue him. Like any good parent, you happily take on the jelly fish!

As I watch the film, I start thinking. Im drawn to think about my Heavenly Father's parenting of me. I think about how grateful I am, that He never makes bad choices. He never embarrasses me. He always knows my heart's motivation behind my actions. He always listens to me. He protects me but allows me to make my own choices. He still accepts me when I mess up in my pride and swim towards the butt! He most victoriously fought for my life when I deserved death, and He went to extreme measures to rescue me!

I also get to thinking that if I'm comparing myself to a fish, then I should probably turn the television off and get out a bit more!

 "For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear,
 but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons,
  by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!”
The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God.."
                                                                                             Romans 8v15-16