A new season (Another new season)

Tonight was our last family dinner as we know it... 

We have two touch points during a week, when all eight of us (maybe nine or ten if a friend or girlfriend is around) are expected to eat together. Sunday lunchtimes, we're all together for Roast chicken, and Thursday evenings, (recently changed from Monday evenings to fit in with football scheduling) we are together for whatever the budget allows, or whatever the Lidl coupons were for that week.

The rest of the week, some of us are around to eat together. Sometimes in shifts, sometimes grabbed on the way out, and sometimes saved on a plate for midnight snackiness. It works for us; not expecting too much family time from the teens, but not allowing for none. Family is important to us, and so is eating it seems. We also throw in a game or two and even a bottle of fizzy. 

Tonight was family dinner night. Special family dinner night. We had Gammon cooked in Coke with a peanut butter glaze, chicken wings and chocolate fondu. We played the car rolling game, where you roll a car along the table to win the prize it lands near. It literally brings the worst out in all of us... if the car hits a prize, you're disqualified, if it rolls off the table, you're disqualified. Tonight you could win a Pot Noodle, 9p or a packet of Pickled Onion Space Raiders. So the stakes were high. We also played the strawberry laces game, where you have to chew it as quick as you can. (There was gagging at one point, which wasn't pretty to watch). 

Theo gave us all a handwritten note, personal to each one of us, and we went round the table to say what we enjoyed about living with Theo. Theo, the eldest boy, the newly engaged eldest boy, the newly engaged eldest boy who is moving out of home on Saturday, to live with buddies before he gets married! Gulp. The answers ranged from, "you eat the vegetables off my plate, so I don't have to", to "the chats we have, and you asking about my day". The littlest, who is finding his leaving a bit ouchy to say the least, was very cuddly and said, "it's all the little games we play together". 

I realised the different relationships they all have with each other. There are nuances, inside jokes, pet peaves, memes they laugh at, words that set them off, songs which connect them, Playstation games or TV shows which will be a memory for them. (Two of them shouted 'Tron' last week, when the circular cardboard pizza bases were on the side). Knowing my kids have that with each other, is fun to think about. Some things, I probably don't even know about. Sibling secrets. It's lovely, and I wish I knew them all. Although I probably don't actually. 

Tonight I sat back and watched them during the craziness, and the bickering. During the disqualifications and laughter. During the fight to be heard and the quiet watching. Some of them naturally click better with each other, and some I'm not sure would hang out, if they weren't siblings. I wonder what they will each take from our home, into their own homes. 

To be fair, that eldest boy of ours is seeing what he can literally take with him, asking for his bed, the shelves, the storage unit... The eldest will have his own room at long last, just not in our house. The sibling discussions of who should sleep where have begun. A new season is upon us...another new season, as it always seems to be with a quiver full.

"Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one's youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them". Psalm 127v3-5

As It Was

Another Summer rolls around, and they're back at school. Well, three of them are back at school; one is still in bed, one is packing for a lad's trip to Spain, and one is changing the landscape of a garden. 

I think it was our first Summer without a family holiday, all eight of us. There is something a bit sad about it not being 'as it was', but also something new and exciting. I definitely missed the chaos that comes with us lot on holiday. Finding somewhere big enough to start with, then there's the planning, the booking, the journeying, the seat allocation, the room allocation, the food allocation, the packing, the lists. How many shoes can we actually take? Can we fit in body boards? Do we need a tent? Do they take dogs? What breakable things need hiding as soon as we arrive? 

But twice this year, myself and the husband have holidayed with just the girls. Just the little ones. Just those two. A third of the kids, in one car and even on a plane! It's so much cheaper, and simpler. You can say yes to more ice creams or bottles of pop. They sit and colour. You put them to bed, and you still have an evening. You can eat out because they don't require all the carbs that the restaurant has to offer. It's no less adventurous, no less fun, (maybe a little less 'accidental' sibling attacks) definitely no quieter, possibly the same amount of clothes taken and amounts of time being thrown in a pool, but it is different. 

The husband took three boys away, for a spontaneous few days in France. Three massive lads in one fairly small car, with one clothes bag between them and a massive bag of pasta. They came back physically exhausted from driving all night, and from inflatable injuries, having had individual quality time and chats with dad. The same brotherly banter, highs and lows that are present at home, always go on holiday with you. But it was different.

The eldest went off on his own, (well with a buddy), to inter-rail across Europe, to jump off of a dam and white water raft! He still shopped at Lidl (proud mum moment) but he was away for summer, and that was different.

The seasons are a changing. For us, the holiday 
change seems to be one transition of many. Whereas we are also fifteen years into the same Primary school run, the same route, the same late mornings.   

Some of family life will always feel the same, because of who we are, and what we have developed over the years. But change is inevitable. Some aspects of parenting just stay the same. Monotonously the same...day after day, week after week. Some aspects seem to change hourly, daily, according to each child, each mood, the weather, a full moon... There can be a familiarity, a comfort, in the sameness. Or it can feel like a draining chore. Equally change can feel good, exciting and new, or scary and unsure. Or all and both at the same time.

I am grateful that my Heavenly Father sees it all. He sees the bits that stay exactly the same. He sees the new bits and the worries they might bring. He sees the sadness of change that we might feel, mixed with a reflection that this is what we've been building towards. He knows what we're feeling, even when we are unsure what our parenting thoughts and feeling are today. He's got us parents, and thankfully He's got our kids too. "He remains the same yesterday, today and forever more". (Hebrews 13v8). 

This is a great comfort to me, that He never changes, no matter which season we find ourselves in, or which season our kids find themselves in, or which mood they are in right now, even. He was the same when we first holidayed with one small baby, then with two, three, four, five, six (and even seven). Back to five, or just the three and only two. God's sameness however, is never to be confused with Him being bored by us, or Him finding the fathering of us, a chore. He is the Father of love, adoption, compassion, mercy and blessing, and is always watching us grow.

What's Your Story?

Last week, I wore a fetching pair of goggles to introduce some Baptisms in church. All the kids and Youth were in, some in the 'Splash Zone'. I was asking my friend if someone could become a Christian by going under water, or if God loved a person more, if they went under water. (I was actually bluffing and knew the answers to the questions. Shocking, I know). I also asked if everyone's story was the same, if everyone became a Christian in the same way.

I love baptisms. They're such life giving moments to be part of. Hearing someone describe the how and the when of getting caught up in God's story for their life. Of course people's stories aren't the same. People's lives arent the same. They may have something in common or be miles apart from the previous story, or testimony. They usually make me feel emotional. You can disagree with, or argue against lots of ideas and Biblical perspectives, but to hear someone tell their story of when they met Jesus and the joy that has brought them is not something easily dismissed. It's their story!

I know of people recently, who have quickly got baptised in the freezing sea, and a baptism service where the building's water was off, so everyone from church had to bring a container of water! Such fun.

Not long ago, my (nearly)14yr old son got baptised. It was a wonderful day, with the whole family in church, including the ones who are maybe working out their faith, others who had travelled to Brighton for it, some watching on-line and there may have been a confetti canon or two. It was afterall an amazing celebration, a celebration of new life. And we aim to celebrate well in our family. We invited people back for lunch, and made a whole afternoon of it. I made Baptism puddings of course!

I have enjoyed the sheer range of people's stories recently. Some people who have had no religious or Christian input, finding Jesus. Some people who have had religious input, finding Jesus and some people who have had Christian input and finding Jesus. There have been three young people recently who have got baptised, from Christian homes who talked to their parents, kids workers and youth workers about their faith, and it has simply grown. 

When my son said he was getting baptised, my daughter was surprised as he 'hasn't had time away from God yet'. This prompted a quick theological lesson and huge encouragement that you do not need to have a time away from God before you are baptised. This refelcts my own story. I was blessed to grow up in a Christian home, found Jesus for myself, got baptised and stayed on that path to the current day. Some people grow up in a Christian home, and during the journey of finding God for themselves, they painfully wander away, hopefully to return at a later date, although sadly not always. 

When the kids were smaller, it seemed easier to drip feed Jesus talk into their daily routines; Bible stories, popcorn prayers, catchy songs, the Jesus Story Book Bible, Bible themed dinners, pausing films or TV shows to discuss if it lines up with the gospel... 

As they get older, there seems to be a need to be a bit more focussed with how to intentionally drip Jesus into their lives. The youngsters who got baptised recently, had done an Alpha course on line with a parent, or worked through The New City Catechism with a parent; a great App where kids (and adults) can learn the images which link to a Biblican truth. With our teens, they have gone through Rebecca McLaughlin's 10 Questions every teen should ask (and answer) about Christianity, and Bruce Ware's Big Truths for Young Hearts. These books have been better understood alongside a Sausage and Egg McMuffin with their dad, before school. Another classic in our house would be The Bible Project, especially for the kids who don't particularly like words.

The great thing about going through these things with our kids, is the chance to see where they are at, teach truth and grow their faith. But it also does us good as we remember and repeat these truths for our own faith and walk with God. It enhances our own story of knowing Him and His Story. 

"And now what are you waiting for? Get up, be baptized and wash your sins away, calling on his name." Acts 22v16

Exam Season

I was recently asked to write a post on the pressure of exams, for The National Parenting Initiative. You can read the post below, or check out their website for other resources.

Exam season is upon us. In our house, we have one teen just about to start his A Level exams, and one about to start his GCSE exams. 

I remember one of mine getting upset about his SATs. He worried he might not get a job if he failed them. He called himself stupid, compared himself to others and had a good cry. That was just at age 11. 

It's hard as parents to navigate these concerns well. You don't want to brush it off as nothing, you don't want to make it a bigger deal than it should be. We know as adults, that we grow personally through times of pressure. But it's hard to watch your child under pressure. It's hard to watch them doubting themselves. I'd quite like to save them from ever experiencing any pain or stress in their life. But I do know this isn’t helpful, in training them up for life.

I remember trying to help that little boy put these tests into perspective. I drew a rather simple diagram and on his eyebrows, I wrote 'Literacy' and 'Maths'. With the rest of the drawn body, we wrote as many of his hobbies, his strengths, his characteristics, his likes, his talents, his joy-givers and his identity in Christ. Sure, the maths and literacy were there somewhere, but they were a small part of him as a whole. 
 

We do need to encourage our children to work hard. This is a Biblical principle. We also need to trust God, that "He will do far more than we can ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us". The Father's plans and purposes for our lives, are not reliant on just us. Teaching our children to trust God with their futures, their jobs, their paths in life, is invaluable. (And continually learning it as adults is also key).

In our house, we have kids that love school/college, kids that don't see the point. Kids that use educational settings as social gatherings, and kids who would rather avoid the pressure of people. One of ours had to really process that he wouldn't be letting us down if he didn't do well in exams. He put pressure on himself that wasn't healthy for him. One of ours puts no pressure on himself whatsoever, giving us examples of people who have soared in their careers with no qualifications, as inspiration for him to not attend school.
 

Through life, as well as through exam season, children need to know they are loved and accepted. They need to know that we are in their corner. They need to know we believe in them, whilst being realistic and not setting them up to fail. Knowing your children well, is key to encouraging them, along with praying for them. Some of my kids simply feel loved by food. So money on a school canteen card, or a favourite drink in their lunch, communicates that I have thought about them. One of ours asks for a Lego model on completion of exams, not on the results of the exams. We celebrate the effort put in, and the pressure coming to an end, not the final outcome. A couple of ours are cash incentivized, so we budget for this. One got a cash amount dependent on his results, which pushed him personally to achieve more. One has received cash if he can honestly say that he tried every question. 
 

This morning, I tidied the room of the one getting ready to take his GCSE exams. His head is in a better space, if his room is in an ordered space. I have also had to choose my words carefully. As one left the house recently, I said, "Let's really knuckle down today". He came back to me and stated that all he could hear from that phrase was that he hadn’t been knuckling down, and that wasn't a fair comment. Rather than argue what I meant, I just said I was sorry and appreciated him bringing it to me. There have also been occasions, where we've given our kids just a day off from school, a mental health day, a reset day when they have asked specifically, or when we have seen that the pressure is too much. The Bible teaches resting and sabbathing well too. 

They may need more sleep during exam season, (if indeed they can sleep). Like little ones though, they may not realise that more sleep is needed. They may need encouragement to get out of the house and do something fun. Offer to do it with them or give them a lift to it. They may need to be active, or get a change of scenery. They will need downtime, in the midst of it all. They may simply need new pens, or revision cards, or even a revision partner, who has no understanding of what they are studying. They may want lots of help or none at all.

 

Sometimes as parents, we have to work out how to help them on the sly. They don't tend to want nagging. They do need to know that we are available when and if they need us. (This tends to be between the hours of 11pm and 1am for some reason). They may well take out the pressure they are feeling unfairly or unkindly on you. This is a time to absorb. Let them offload their rubbish, so they're not carrying the rubbish around with them. And make sure we offload to our Heavenly Father so we're not carrying around that rubbish either.

Exam Season (National Parenting Initiative)

Before you get my next random bunch of thoughts on all things me, (with tenious links to the Gospel), you can check out a recent blog post I was asked to write for The National Parenting Initiative on supporting kids through the pressure of exams. 

Exam Season

Check out the rest of the NPI website for blog posts, parenting courses, podcasts and family resources. 

https://www.thenpi.org.uk/

God Save The King

So, Friday was eventful. Took a little train up to London, to see how comfortable it would be to sleep on a picnic blanket, on the ground, on the Mall. Turns out, it wouldn't be very comfortable at all. If you add some rain, some waiting around, some noise, and a lack of toilets, tea and sleep, it really adds to that discomfort. But myself and a few others found ourselves there, for the coronation of King Charles lll.

It was wonderful to meet new people; a couple of Aussies who have never seen a Koala, a lady who has been everywhere and done everything it seems, a smiley chatty police officer, an American photographer, and some other interesting characters. People who spend the night on the ground, on the Mall, can be a little bit quirky. It's funny how you can just hit it off with the right people; enjoy an experience together, laugh a lot, try out each others accents and you have a new friend as a result. 

Of course, the strange thing about going up the night before, and camping out, is you actually miss a lot of the whole thing. From the comfort and warmth of your own home, with your own TV, near your own toilet, you can watch the preparations beforehand, you can get real close ups of the different family members and guests. You can see the service and the choir and all that is happening, while hearing historical facts, being given to you. Whereas, as we waited for the carriages and marching bands, we could only hear the service.

I was encouraged to hear of Charles being gifted a Bible; "the most valuable thing that this world affords". And I heard him make quite big pledges to God. I believe Queen Elizabeth II had a personal relationship with God, from things she has said and practiced over the years. I do hope and pray that Charles has followed in his mother's beliefs and practices of her faith. We must pray for him. 'God, do indeed save the king'.

After the service, we did get a front row seat of the parade. Well, by seat, I obviously mean a front row, soaking wet, long awaited stand. There were mere yards between me and the king; mere yards, two metal barriers, eight police officers, the king's guards, a footman or two, and a whole host of security. But still, close enough to see inside the carriage and a waving gloved hand. I was rather excited to see William and the kids. Gotta love how Louis is living his best life! (If he wasn't in line to the throne itself, I reckon Louis would be one of those quirky characters who would sleep on The Mall, the night before a royal celebration).

After the procession, I was able to walk down The Mall to Buckingham Palace, with thousands of other people. We got nearer and nearer. It was all rather joyous. With a little surge to the right, I saw in the far distance, a couple of gowned, crowned people, wave and walk through a door. I am to believe this was the royal couple themselves, as I'm not sure who else would have been up there, and I have since seen all the photos and videos to confirm my suspicions.

It's all a bit crazy really isn't it?! Spending money on a train ticket, and an expensive cup of tea, staying up all night, standing in the rain for hours, to get a glipmse of someone who doesnt even know I exist. I know I went for the experience of it all, to be there on the day it happened, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. 

But as a believer in and follower of Jesus, I actually know that I can come to the true King of Kings, the one who every ruler will one day bow their knee to. And the best thing is, He knows my name. He knows who I am. I am important to Him, welcomed by Him. He knows what I love, what I struggle with. He cares about me. There is no barrier between me and Him. I can just come to Him. There's no one policing my approach to Him. There's no one guarding Him, with a Bayonet and a furry hat. Jesus paid so much more than a train ticket. He gave up so much more than a warm bed for the night. He gave up His life for me, not for a glimpse, a moment, but for a relationship with me. Because of what Jesus has done, taking the punishment for my sins, my wrong doings, because He has been perfect where I have not been, I get to confidently come to him, not as a servant, but actually as a beloved one. 

"Let us then approach God's throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need". Hebrews 4v16

I Wonder....

Yesterday, I opened One Pink Toothbrush, for the first time in quite a while. A friend had asked me to write a post for a website, which I was happy to do. A privilege to be asked. I wrote the piece and sent if off to her. Job done. What I didn't tell her of course, was that when I opened the 'ol Toothbrush page, I saw the lack of activity. I didn't tell her I had only posted 7 blogposts in the last 18months. I didn't tell her that I had had a cry, on opening the laptop. I didn't tell her that I had reached out to a couple of friends, (my writing encouragers), and let them in on all the feels I was now feeling. She was none the wiser. (She may well read this and be more in the loop of course).

The lack was just so apparent. The absence was evidence of quite a difficult season. 

A few weeks ago at church, we sang Matt Redman's song 'Mercy'. I felt to share when my youngest had become a Christian. We were in the sea in Spain. She was holding me tightly, and all we could see was sea. The sea was vast, (warmer than Brighton's sea), but ever so vast. For a 4 year old, it was even more so, with her feet not touching the ground. I spoke to her about the vastness of God's love and forgiveness. I told her that God's mercy was as endless as the sea, for all the naughty things she had done, all the naughty things I had done, all she would ever do, and all I would ever do. With a very simple understanding, we prayed a little prayer together saying sorry to God, and asking Him to forgive us. After church, I felt somewhat emotional for the rest of the afternoon, with the lyrics of Matt's song in my head. 

I hadn't shared in church for a while, again evidence of a lack of some kind. 

The Tuesday after that Sunday, I went off to Alicante, on my own. This is not something I have done before. Well, who knew how refreshing alone can be?! (I do get that for some who experience alone a lot of the time, it can be anything but refreshing). I travelled in silence. No one knew me, needed me or spoke to me. Time wasn't dictated to me by any committments or responsibilities. I ate, drank, slept, walked, sunbathed, swam, read, people-watched, just whenever I felt like it. I took a boat ride, as you do. There wasn't a pack of Cheddars in sight, no laundry to fold, no turns on the Playstation, no school runs to do, no homework to nag about, no bulk cooking. Just me, myself and I. 

The locals had jackets and socks on, but I'm from England and so the comparison is unquestionable; Spain = Warmth. Therefore, of course I went into the sea. I sat on the beach, listened again to Matt's Mercy song, let the lyrics wash over me, and then headed into the quite cold, and empty sea. 

"...mercy, mercy, as endless as the sea. I'll sing your Hallelujah, for all eternity. May I never lose the wonder, Oh the wonder of your mercy, May I sing your Hallelujah. Hallelujah, Amen.."

The sea was vast, ever so vast. And in that moment, God said to me; "You've lost the wonder, the wonder of my mercy". 

The coldness of the sea, and the realisation that I had indeed lost the wonder of God's mercy, and stopped singing my Hallelujahs to Him, took my breath away. I cried, as I looked around at the water; a physical, visual, spiritual reminder of the vastness of God's love and forgiveness. God's mercy in that moment was as endless as the sea, and I was once again in wonder of the beauty of it.

"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you apss through thr rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned...For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One, your Saviour". Isaiah 43v2-3

Seems the right blog post to share, to fill the gap, on my return.