iBroke

A couple of years ago a friend generously bought me an iPad for my birthday. She wanted to read more about the 'ol pink toothbrush, and therefore she said I needed to write more. I'll never forget the husband's face as I unwrapped it, and he was quick to appreciate the "what's mine is yours" part of married life. My iPad has been a wonderful source of entertainment for the family. The boys have found village building games, battle games, and running quickly games. Games with birds dressed as Star Wars characters and games with clans who clash. They're all the same game but with different characters as far as this mum can see. We've added some maths games and a copy of Warhorse, because boys do seem to love combining the technical side of life with learning. And then there's the husband's 'Garage Band', where he can live out his youth by pretending he's in a band called No Direction or Undecided or something similar. He plays every instrument in the band; such talent.

The iPad has also been a great training tool. We've used it to teach about time wasting, priorities and idols. As well as the classic lesson "Screens do not mean you can ignore your family". The iPad is regularly used to teach selflessness, rather than taking turns. We tend not to go for 'fair' in this house. Instead we remind the little people about Jesus' selfless love, and how the cross wasn't fair, but tipped heavily in our favour. However, the iPad's biggest training ground was for me and the husband.

As the family arrived home in the car, one of the boys asked if they could carry the iPad in. The husband explained that they could, but they were to hold it tightly and not run with it. As we walked towards the house, we saw said child running with the iPad, tripping with the iPad, and dropping the iPad.

We scrunched up our eyes, hoping to turn back time, but we both knew. We just knew, as we watched the iPad slide along the concrete. That beautiful smooth screen was now shattered into a hundred tiny pieces. A spontaneous double yell of  "Get to your room" was heard all down the street, as we silently entered the house. The husband was due to go out, but he couldn't leave the child up in his room, wondering if he had a future.

So after a calming down period, the husband went upstairs and spoke to the child in question. The child was very remorseful, very apologetic and knew that he had done wrong. Of course, it was the disobedience which needed addressing. The iPad's demise was a consequence of disobedience. The husband dealt with the incident, while I nursed the poorly iPad in the kitchen. When the husband came back downstairs, he explained to me that our son was still alive and that he had not simply said sorry to his dad, but that he had truly repented. His dad forgave him. The boy had hugged him, smiled and walked away.

We both realised that we were miffed at how freely our son had walked away. We wanted him to be more guilt ridden, to have his tail between his legs, to dwell more on his sin, for it to affect him longer. God spoke to us in that moment. The iPad was still broken, and there would be a cost to fix it. But the sin had been dealt with, the boy had said sorry and his father had forgiven him. And that's really how it is with us. Our sin and its consequences have caused us to be broken, and it cost Jesus His life to fix it. But when we come to Him truly repentant, He is quick to forgive, and we can walk away guilt free, secure in the father's unconditional love.

It's taken a while to blog about this one, because it just seemed so unfair that our boy was so free from the incident after he'd been forgiven. But we tend not to go for 'fair' in this house. Instead, as well as reminding the little people, we remind the big people about Jesus' selfless love, and how the cross wasn't fair, but tipped heavily in our favour.

"God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God." 2 Corinthians 5v21

All Day Long

Wow my last post was a month ago, what's that about? Ah yes, it was August. A time for laying in, staying in pyjamas, lazy DVD days, doing 'whatever we please whenever we please' days and generally just chilling out. Plus of course, the actual reality of 6 weeks with all 5 kids, all day, every day, from sun rise to sun set, every minute of every hour...

It's a funny mix, the summer holidays. I love not being in a routine. I'm never late anywhere, because there is no where to be. I love just letting the kids play and eat freely, while still being in my pyjamas, (and if possible, still under a duvet). I love playing with them and seeing them and hearing them, and just them being around me all day long. But the other side to it, is that I see them and hear them all day long. They're around me all day long. Like ALL day long. They need food all day long, they need entertaining all day long, they need a mediator, an arts and crafts specialist, a Lego builder, a trainer, a bottom wiper, a chef, an activities coordinator, a law enforcement officer, a tone changer, a friend, a listener, a perspective changer, a teacher, a hugger... all day long.
In a nutshell, they need me all day long.

They don't seem to get the 'August memo', that us mums can just take a break. No more uniforms to wash, book bags to go through, newsletters to read, lunch boxes to empty, reading books to slowly and painfully sit through. No more Chip or Biff or Kipper! No more homework or school runs or time restraints. Just a nice relaxing month or so off....

Older, wiser mums say things like 'it goes so quickly' and 'you can't get that time back' and 'they're only little for a short time'. Us younger, 'not so wise yet' mums think August itself is the slowest month in history and the little ones have been little forever, and life as we know it, will never change. We will learn I'm sure, and we in time will hear ourselves imparting that same wisdom to mums who can't quite take it on board yet..

 It seems you can't quite take the month off from the privilege of being a mum. There they are every day, all day long. They come with their wants and needs and delights and conversations. With their questions and heartaches, and curiosity and repetitiveness. With their joys and disappointments. With their squabbles and achievements. With their grazes and in this house, with their woodlice. And yes they need me all day long. It's what I'm here for.  


Of course, there's the realisation that I need my Heavenly Father all day long too. I need Him all the time, every day. He doesn't tire of me or take time off from loving me. He loves seeing me and hearing me all day long. He loves just being around me. He's waiting to hear my questions, my heartaches, my disappointments, my joys and my squabbles. He'd be totally engaged if I wanted to show Him a woodlouse. And He's also ready and waiting to give me the strength and grace I need to do this mothering malarky all day long, every day, from sun rise to sun set, every minute of every hour...

"I can do all this through him who gives me strength."
Philippians 4v13

"The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.
 He fulfils the desires of those who fear him; he hears their cry and saves them."
Psalm 145v18-19

4am

Sometimes it's 4am and you find yourself awake. Awake, giving out Calpol to the one who hurt his arm and knee in two spectacular falls today, and a midnight treat combination of Calpol, milk and cuddles for the littlest snuffly one. And yes you're tired and yes you're working out how many minutes you've got left on your pillow before either the sun comes up or the sons get up, but you're also very grateful.

Right now, that's me. I'm grateful. Grateful that my house is full of sleeping children. And grateful that my bed holds a sleeping husband. Grateful that I have a bed, and grateful that my tummy is full (although a midnight cereal treat for myself might just add to the gratefulness). Grateful for this big messy house. And grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who would bless me with all these things.

It's not even been one of those days where you view the world through rose-tinted glasses; the days where everything goes well - when there's healthy food in the house, love in the house, creative activities or even self initiating homework in the house and of course peace and harmony in the house. (I've heard these days exist). It's been a day of all the usual joys of motherhood; tantrums, discipline, poo seeping through vests, Calpol, grazed elbows, baby eating unknown items, only one child bathed, wiping bottoms, tears, laughter, discipline, eating dry cereal, hurtful words, hugs, iPad arguments, woodlice, dinosaurs, superheros, mum doing well, and mum doing badly moments. It's been hard work today, relentless heart training and tone correcting (mine as well as theirs). And a game of Snakes & Ladders which I genuinely thought would never end and would have rather given the kids money than carry on playing!

But for some reason, at 4am, I'm just simply so grateful. I'm mindful of my friends who would love to be up at this time, cuddling pink bundles or comforting wounded blue ones. I'm mindful of my friends who would love to have a sleeping, slightly snoring spouse, in their bed, taking far too much of the duvet. And I'm mindful of my friends who are going through life and don't know what it is to have God's love and His complete, wonderful forgiveness. I'm mindful of my friends who haven't found a friend in Jesus and haven't been blown away by what He did for them on the cross.

"Rejoice always,  pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus". 1 Thessalonians 5v16-18

Heavenly Father, thank you. Thank you that I know your love and forgiveness. Thank you for your son and all He did for me, by dying on the cross. Thank you for the husband. Thank you for one, two, three, four and five. Just thank you x

School Report; Could Try Harder

Drawing near to the end of term, not only brings on severe cases of End-of-Term-Itis, it also brings the delight that is 'Non-Competitive Sport's Day', teacher present buying and of course school reports. Sport's day; I just won't comment on, apart from to say that I jolly well cheered hard for my son as he didn't compete against anyone. Teacher present buying; I sent the kids into school as spies on a mission. They had to find out what their teachers and teaching assistants liked, but in a more subtle way than "What do you want my mum to buy you?" Restaurant vouchers, clothes vouchers, posh chocolate and alcohol seemed to cover everyone. 

And then there's the school reports and final chats with the teachers. You kind of want to stroke the teachers, say 'Well Done' to them, get them a duvet and let them sit in a darkened room somewhere. But instead you ask them to explain what the numbers and letters mean and how well your child has done and what they could improve on. You have to be able to read 'Teacher Code', when analysing the reports. Knowing my dear boys, I add my own interpretations when I read "lively and outgoing", "a great sense of humour" and "contributes well with regard to Christianity and sharing his own experiences".

There are joys too, when I read 'personable', 'shows respect', 'polite', and 'team player', as I know that some of that is down to training. You know, the every day stuff that you train and train and train and train, until eventually it shows up on a school report or even better 'out in public'. They need to work harder at some things, especially the dull old details of spelling and punctuation, and a little less silliness here and there. There's always ways for them to improve their learning and there's things to congratulate them on.

I asked the boys to do me a school report; how well I've done this term as a mum. A brave and stupid task. I didn't bribe them with snacks as they answered. But I was in a relatively stable emotional state as I listened at the door. Apparently I'm doing well at 'serving my husband and children, making meals, disaplining (Okay, so the teacher may be right about the spelling) and being a mum'. I can live with that. But apparently I do need to 'shout less and work on my gentleness, and self-control'. Ha ha how perceptive these little people are. Can't keep much from them. A fair assessment I'd say.

We had a good chat about the reports. I explained that I was just as interested in the character bits as much as the results and grading. Got to love working on the 'heart stuff'. And we spoke about God's view of us; how we were His enemies; evil sinners who were far away from Him. And how He loved us when we were like that, and how Jesus' death on the cross meant that we can now be His adopted sons and daughters and come close to Him.

We chatted too, about how perfect our Heavenly Father is compared to us. He doesn't need to work on His self-control or silliness. He doesn't shout at us and I reckon His spelling is outstanding too. There is always going to be heart stuff for God to work on in us. He wants us to be more like Jesus and live more of a life of worship to Him. One day we will all have to stand before Him as He reads every detail of our report to us. Gulp! And then He will accept us in or turn us away, based on whether we accepted Jesus' and lived for Him, or not. It's good to ask Him what areas He'd like us to glorify Him in more. Thankfully though, He never writes 'Could Try Harder' over us. Instead in His grace, He writes over our reports, in blood-red letters, 'Accepted', 'Redeemed', 'Restored' and 'Forgiven'. That's surely one to frame and tell everyone about!

"Blessed are those
whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered."
Romans 4v7                                        

"A person may think their own ways are right,
but the Lord weighs the heart.

 To do what is right and just is more acceptable to the Lord than sacrifice." Proverbs 21v2-3

End-of-Term-Itis

Looking at my latest blog entry, I see that it was quite some time ago. I could happily sit here and tell you that's it's because I've been busy with life; the kids, the husband, the friends, the church etc. I could say I've been so busy loving all the above people that I couldn't possibly prise myself away from the fun and training and imparting, in order to write. But that would be what we call a lie.

Two of the boys have come down heavily with a dose of  end-of-term-itis; they're not just tired, they are beyond tired. And they are hot and sweaty and grubby and tearful and cross and fed up and overwhelmed and over emotional, and I totally get where they are coming from! I can relate to this terrible disease. It's one that really knocks you down, and vitamins don't shift it, just long periods of sleep, which is hard to come by these days. When a mum is suffering with end-of-term-itis, and she comes into contact with two little people suffering from it too, it's not a pretty sight. So my parenting game plan has been on the defensive; 'react to what they're doing and just try to survive the match'. Somewhere over the last few weeks, I have forgotten that my job is to love them and train them, and I have re written my job description as 'Just get through 'til bedtime'. I've been scared to parent them, knowing that they are just going to kick off and walk away from me or they're going to burst out crying. Or I am.

Now I know that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. But knowing it and living in the truth of it are two different things. I haven't been coming to Him in the kind of way which seeks Him, and spends time with Him and reads His word, or even just falls on Him humbly, sincerely asking for help. For some reason, I have decided that I can tackle this end-of-term-itis without God's help. Tackling anything with a strong burst of pride, is never going to cure anything. I just know I can't do the parenting, the wife-ing and the serving, without walking closely with Jesus. And I can't blog either. I can't write about grace when Im not living in it.

Last Tuesday, I had one of those 'sob-in-your-breakfast-bowl-I-can't-do-this-anymore' moments in front of the family. They graciously prayed for me, and then the husband left for Berlin for a few days. (Ha ha ha...silently rock in a darkened room). It was then that end-of-term-itis was either going to wipe this whole family out, and the husband was going to come home to a mess, or this mum was going to ask God to coach her, and change the parenting game plan to being on the offensive; 'plan beforehand and win this match', which mainly involved prayer, and water balloons. And of course, He did coach me. But more importantly I remembered that He also substituted Himself for me, and that it is by His grace I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Psalm 145 has been my friend during end-of-term-itis. Remembering what my coach is like, has helped me play the parenting game much better. 

 "The Lord is gracious and full of compassion, Slow to anger and great in mercy. The Lord is good to all, and His tender mercies are over all His works. The Lord upholds all who fall, and raises up all who are bowed down." Psalm 145v8,9,14

May The Force Be With You

One of my boys was feeling a little melancholy the other evening. He had had a couple of days off from school, due to being sick and running a high temperature, and he was feeling nervous to go back. He couldn't quite explain his thoughts or feelings, he just felt a bit sad and teary and his head was full of sad thinking. He has felt like this before, where his mind has doubted our love, and it all just 'feels sad', even though he's actually pretty secure in our love for him. How often do I doubt my Father in Heaven's love, without reason to?

So we have a new strategy when his thoughts are a bit negative and glum; we've combined the wisdom of The Bible with the imagery of Star Wars, as you do. After all, his name is an Old Testament prophet and a Jedi Knight....The force is strong with this one!

We looked at the second part of 2 Corinthians 10v5;

"We pull down every proud obstacle that is raised against the knowledge of God; we take every thought captive and make it obey Christ".

 



To take something captive, suggests that it is an actual 'action' we need to do, not just something which happens. So we wondered where we could lock these negative thoughts up; where there was a good prison. And we decided that Jabba the Hutt's palace was a good place to keep something locked up. So that's what we do, we grab each of these untrue thoughts and we shove them in Jabba's captivity.

 

The funny element tends to help break him out of his melancholy. And it helps our very visual boy, see these thoughts being locked up. Now I'm aware that this verse is actually about Paul defending God and the arguments which were being raised against Him, and I have explained this to my son. He has a few friends at school who don't think God is real, so he does know what this verse means. But I think it is important to train him to take both kinds of thoughts captive.

 

We then encourage our boy to fill his mind with things "which are good and that deserve praise: things that are true, noble, right, pure, lovely, and honourable" as it suggests in Philippians 4. In other words, we encourage him to think about God before he sleeps, to think about all the good things God has done for him and how much God loves him, and we pray for God's help. I needed to do this myself this week. I found myself dwelling in untruths, and I was left feeling glum and full of self pity as a result. So I wrote a page of Truths about God in my journal; He is my hiding place, my strength, my refuge etc and it helped shift my thoughts off of me and back to my Heavenly Father's love, Jesus' victory on the cross, and the awesome power of the Holy Spirit at work in me, which afterall, is always going to be the best Force to have with me.

See what I did there?! 

You Are So Annoying

I was blown away by Charlie yesterday. He was ever so selfless, over and over again, when frankly his little sister just didn't deserve it. I was impressed with how he didn't tire of it, apart from the odd eye raise. I guess it might be easier to be consistently selfless when you're a cartoon. You see, Lola, the little sister, spent all her money at the Zoo. She also ate all her lunch and she used all the film on her camera. But her big brother Charlie helped her out. He gave her some of his lunch, he let her use his camera and he bought her a cuddly seal at the zoo shop, even though it meant he couldn't get the book he had been saving for.

Of course, my boys knew that they weren't going to get away with just watching it, without a little 'voice over teaching point' from mum. I pointed out what I could see happening, and they nodded, either to humour me or because the 'selfless' thing is one we plug a lot in this family. Towards the end of the programme, Lola had learnt from her brother's example. She ended up saving her money and giving it to Charlie, who was able to buy an even better book for himself. I spoke to the bigger boys about how they can be an example for their younger brothers to copy. And I acknowledged that younger siblings can be annoying, like Lola was. I  seem to remember poking my big brother constantly until he would whip me with a wet tea towel, and then get in trouble for it. Younger siblings just help people grow in love and patience!

After watching it, one of the younger siblings explained that he felt his older brothers didn't love him much because they don't give him a lot of time. I asked his older brothers how they could respond to this. One of them took the teaching point and put it into practise. The other one ignored the whole thing to the point where I'm not even sure he knows he has brothers. Anyway, off they went upstairs to play together. I encouraged the older one, reminding him that he was imitating Jesus, not just Charlie; that Jesus is the most selfless person there is. That He gave up His own life for us. He got it. Point made.

A few minutes in and the younger sibling sought to test his older brother's newly found kindness. I heard shouts of "No, no, please don't touch that bit of Lego, please, NO NO. Ggggrrrrr, YOU ARE SO ANNOYING". As I got upstairs, I found a cross older one and a smug smaller one, with broken up Lego in his hand. The moment was over. I understood the older one's frustration, and told him so. I released him from playing with his brother and told him that it's hard to be selfless all the time, but it is how Jesus wants us to be. I missed a trick though, and didn't mention that it's the Holy Spirit who helps us to imitate Jesus. It's the Holy Spirit that helps us to love annoying siblings too. I wonder in this house of five children, if there will be another opportunity to talk through 'being selfless'? Yeah I reckon so....

"Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves,  not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others."
Philippians 2v3-4

"In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness...."
Romans 8v26