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