You First

A rare moment this morning, I got to read the Bible and have my cup of tea, before anyone else was awake. I could actually set an alarm and do this every morning but we don't need to cover that today. The littlest of the family is usually an early riser, but this morning she seemed to be enjoying a snoozy half-term moment. Obviously no teenagers were awake, and no one had work to get to. 

I thought back to my mornings over the years; tired from broken sleep and early wakes ups, midnight bed changes and bottles of milk, brain fog and toddlers, brothers not dwelling in unity and sisters' early morning singing. I remember the days when my only Bible study was reading the Jesus Story Book Bible to the kids. Yet I also remember it sustaining me, because of the truth within those pages. 

The younger they are, the more drip feeding of the Bible you can pour into their minds and hearts. It is just part of their daily routine; Bible reading at bedtime, Bible truths over dinner, acting out their favourite Bible passages, eating edible versions of Bible stories. 

As they get older, it gets harder to provide the input in the same way. They may not be readers, so they may adapt to hearing the Bible, or watching the Bible. Maybe they will actually enjoy learning facts and being tested on them.They might be more inclined to read Scripture over a Sausage and Egg McMuffin, with a promised lift to school. They may move to accepting books about the Bible, rather than the Bible itself. (Not an ideal replacement, but better than no input) Maybe they will get an App, and set themselves a reminder, which they will then choose to respond to or ignore.

Some of course, may choose not to want to hear more of what the Bible has to say. This is where you hope and pray that the early input you dripped in, has indeed anchored them.

As I read the Bible this morning, I read the following verses from Phillipians 2 about Christ's example of Humility: "Let each of you look not only to their own interests, but also the interests of others... Jesus emptied himself by taking the form of a servant..."

I am forever grateful that Jesus put others' first, that he 'emptied Himself', that He became like a servant, that He obeyed God the father, even to the point of death. Without this, none of the Bible reading for myself or for my kids would even be worth it. Even if we read it all day every day...it just wouldn't count for anything if Jesus hadn't given Himself to death on a cross, so that we can be forgiven and made righteous before God. 

As a mum, I relate to the words "emptied (Him) self by taking on the form of a servant". Now comparing yourself to Jesus can be a little on the 'not-so-humble' side, and it can be a pretty tenious connection. What Jesus has done for us all, is not comparable with what I do for my family. However, we are told to imitate Christ, and in all honesty some times mumming and 'emptying oneself' do go hand in hand. 

I find the balance hard if I am honest. I want to raise children who will take responsibility for themselves and the world around them. I want them to know how to tidy up after themselves, how to cook and clean, how to be ready for life, or at least for school. But I also enjoy serving them, blessing them, doing stuff for them. 

One of the things I have found out about teenagers, is the wobbly balance between wanting to be fiercely independant, but also really needing our help. Part of 'emptying myself' requires me to choose my battles, to choose when to bring things up, when to point things out, when to explain that they spoke rudely, when to remind them about serving the household. And therefore, when to keep my mouth shut, when to just help them in the moment, when to just serve them. 

There have definitely been moments where I have not done this well, when I have thought about my own interests (MAYBE BECAUSE I WAS IN THE RIGHT!!). But over time, and having processed four teenagers so far, I have seen the benefit of choosing to be servant hearted in the moment, and bringing it up later, if at all. This might just be making their sandwiches and washing their clothes, but it's more likely to be, silently helping them find their homework when you told them last night to put it in their school bag, or quietly driving them to the bus stop because they didn't get out of bed when you asked them to. 

I guess in these moments, if I can empty myself and serve their needs, then I am still dripping the Bible into their lives, by my actions instead of my words. (The other thing I have found out about teenagers is, the less words used, the better). In order to empty myself, I do of course need to be filled in the first place, and then re-filled again. I need to keep coming into God's presence and pondering on what He has done for me. Maybe even open up to Him if I have been keeping my mouth shut elsewhere. Jesus knows what it is like to look on the interests of others, and some.

Food For Thought

I help serve the Kids' Ministry at our church, which I just love. Kids are hilarious! They're great company and come up with such fun ways of looking at things. They say weird and wonderful things. I enjoy watching them be kind to a friend in the room, without anyone else seeing it happen. I like all their different little quirks. I like the predictability of what they are going to play with each week, and when they catch themselves doing something new or out of character. I love the sound of them laughing, just carefree and usually happy just being themselves. We can learn a lot from children, and how they do life. 

I enjoy making Bible stories fun for them, in order for them to grasp a little of the lavish and exuberant character of God. I especially enjoy seeing how we can link the teaching, however tenuous, to a food-craft based activity. It is something I have implemented at home a lot, with my own children. I want them to quite literally, "taste and see that the Lord is good" (Psalm 34v8) 

My favourite go-to edible item, is usually a waffle. They're pretty versitile. You can make a window, a Bible, a harp, an envelope, and a fish to name but a few. I'm sharing them on my Insta page this week. Some of them are terrible, but kids don't seem to mind.

Occassionally, I am stumped for a food-craft to link to the Bible teaching, (and rightly so probably). Last term our theme was, "Jesus, He did what?!",  looking at Jesus' miracles. We replicated the story of when Peter cut a soldier's ear off, and Jesus made it better, with rice crackers (ears), strawberry sauce (blood) and a sword (chocolate fingers). But when it was the story of the woman who had suffered with menstural bleeding for 12 years, we thought it better, to just make toast that week. (Although you could say she was healed by the Bread of Life. See what I did there?!)

This morning was an easy one; the Fruit of the Spirit. I mean it's right there in the title. "...the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law". (Galatians v22-23) They had to make a picture, using pieces of cut up apple, banana, melon, peach and pineapple. Some kids were really creative, and some couldn't care less, just munching their way through an A4 piece of paper, covered in fruit. We talked about how plants need light and water to grow. Seeing as Jesus is referred to as Living Water, and the Light of the world, the closer we are to Him, the more these fruits will grow in us. (I also said that children were one of the main ways which cause/help their mums to grow in patience!) At home, we have chatted through Joseph's coat of many colours, using fruit too. It's healthy, and feeds them, as well as 'feeding them' Bible truths, which is of course, really healthy.

One of the kids, during the teaching today was on a roll. He suggested instead of Peacefulness, as one of the Fruits of the Spirit, we should say 'Peachfulness'. Just amazing. He also said we should be full of 'Grapefulness'. Yes!! He really had it all fig-ured out.

Cloud Cover

Last week, I hopped on a plane to Lanzarote. The little mini-break was booked a while back, with a different friend. It was going to be our post-Pnuemonia getaway. We scanned deals for somewhere warm and cheap, with a pool! Only her Pnuemonia didn't go away, so she couldn't come, which was gutting for us both. (I mean, not gutting enough for me not to go. Such the good friend am I). I was either going to head out on my own or grab the sister in law to come with me, which she happily did. 

The blessing of this little holiday was in the nothingness, but that is a whole different blog post!

Where our little apartment was, meant that the sun would rise opposite our balcony. And because we're both mums with bodies and minds wired for the early rise, (despite desperately hoping for a later wake up), one or both of us were up to see it. 

I wrote the following, and sent it to a friend who has experienced her fair share of grey clouds lately, with the hope of it being a blessing and an encouragement to her. I thought maybe it would be a blessing and encouragement for others to read too.

I had the joy of watching the sunrise this morning. I was prepared to enjoy it. I had a blanket over my knees, a cup of tea, my notebook in case I felt inspried and my phone ready to take beautiful pictures. I was a bit disappointed because grey clouds kept covering parts of the sunrise. I couldn't get the photo I wanted. I even looked to the side, over the sea and could see that more grey clouds were on their way, moving quite quickly. I felt God start to speak to me, which if I'm honest, I was a bit annoyed about. Turns out I wanted the nice photo, more than I wanted to actually be inspired!   

I would get a glimpse of the beauty unfolding behind the grey clouds...the pinks, and the oranges, and the occasional hit of bright light. But the clouds kept moving and I couldn't see the full sunrise. Then the sun was just up in the sky. I'd missed all the pretty, breathtaking colours that I wanted to see, to capture and experience, and of course, photograph. 

I felt like God wanted to remind me (and you) of what is happening daily as the sun is rising; the colours, the brightness, the pinks, and oranges, the brightness, the warmth. None of these things aren't there just because the clouds are covering them. In my frustration of it not being what I had hoped for, what I wanted, what I felt I deserved even, I felt God say;

'I am right here. I am in my full glory and power. Can you even grasp the magnitude of that? 

I am in my full gentleness and goodness. Do you know what that means for you? I am all these things, regardless of whether the clouds keep coming. 

My promises, my hope, my victory remain steadfast even when the clouds keep coming. 

The truth of who I am, of what I have done remain true even when the clouds keep coming. 

Regardless of what is on the horizon, I am'.

There were moments of bright warmth, when I was looking at the sunrise. They hit my face, I closed my eyes and it was wonderful. I breathed them in, (which is much easier to do in a sunny country with the kids not around). How often do I think the sun isn't there because I cannot see it or feel it today? How often do I only see the rain, or the grey or the clouds? Does that mean the sun hasn't risen? Of course not. I must  look beyond the clouds even if it is an act of faith, knowing that the sun, the Son is there in all His radiance. He's not dulled down, even by constant clouds that keep coming.

I was reminded of the tomb with the massive stone in front. No one could see what was happening in that dark cave, where death was. The power and the life that was happening, even though no one could see it, was and still is, the greatest power in Heaven and on Earth. Absolutely amazing and faultless. And I have access to that, to Him, every day! He's not dulled down, even by death.

As powerfully as I felt God speak to me watching that first sunrise, still on the second day, I chose to lay in my bed on my phone instead. I know there is no guilt or shame in this, as the mini-break was for much needed rest and recuperation. But I think it's still worth mentioning. It is still a choice to seek Him out each day. 

And on the 3rd morning, I was packing, sorting out the apartment before we were due to fly home, and I nearly missed the sunrise in my busyness. I wanted to see it, I was up early enough, but I got distracted by what needed doing. In God's kindness, a bright ray of sunshine broke through the room, and caught my attention. It is probably my favorite photo of the holiday, because it speaks of His gentle lifting of my gaze to look for His. A wonderful reminder, that He wants to meet with me again today. He wants to get my attention. He wants me to experience His nearness, His warmth, His mercy. A reminder that the Son has indeed risen.

"Let the name of the Lord be praised, both now and forevermore. From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets, the name of the Lord is to be praised".  Psalm 113v2-3

A Moment in Time

One of my favourite presents from my last birthday, was a photo album from the boys. (Another favourite was a pen, thoughtfully inscribed with One Pink Toothbrush!!) The boys had replicated photos of themselves from when they were little. I love it. Of course I cried. That was probably their goal. I look at the photos of when they were little, and I can hear their sweet cheeky voices and their laughs. The voices are much deeper now, and they are nowhere near little. 

There was something pretty unique about these four energetic boys, each one different in character but as a unit, as a four, they were just something else. I can probably read through old blog posts and be reminded of the crazy energy they had, and the crazy energy we needed to raise them. Me and the husband were younger back then too which helped. But it was oh so fun!

Recently, I have realised that I have needed to grieve the loss of that special time. (Loss is probably the wrong word. I have friends who have lost a child and what I mean is nothing like that awful pain). I have needed to grieve the change from that special time. I don't quite know where it happened either. They were young, a little unit (not unlike the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles), then they had sisters added in, then it was Covid and now they're all taller than me.

Don't get me wrong, I don't love the boys more than I love the girls, and I really love the teenagers they have become. (One is no longer even a teen!) But there was just something particular about that time. As a mum, you get caught up in the season you are in. Or you find yourself in overlapping seasons, like when you have a newborn, a toddler and one starting school. Sometimes there isn't much space to acknowledge that a season of parenting has changed. You can feel it happening to you. Maybe you look around and suddenly see a difference. Or perhaps they hand you a photo album of them when they were little... 

Us mums need to take a moment. Reflect on what was, and what is, and what is still to come. It's ok to have preferred certain seasons, or enjoyed certain ages, without rejecting everything that came before or after. It's ok too, to realise that we endured rather than enjoyed, a season or two. Somewhere along the way, they changed, they grew. Perhaps as mums, we did too.

Parenting teenagers is a whole different skill-set to parenting little ones. Less physical energy is needed, although you do need to stay up late for when they actually want to chat. Less direction is given to them, although you do need to give your advice carefully and wisely. Less planning needs to go into their days, although you do need to guide their choices. Less reactions and consequences are needed immedietly, although your patience needs to grow as you wait. Less time is spent closely with them, although the time you get is precious. 

Mine are less of a group of four these days, each the main character in their own stories, although I do love it when they re-assemble. 

I am thankful that God is patient with me, His daughter, with
my own personal growth, as I walk in relationship with Him. There have been seasons where I have walked further than I should, and seasons where I have depended so fully on him. "And I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in me, in you, will bring it to completion until the day of Christ Jesus". (Philippians 1v6)

That's All, folks!

You know how in Nature doctumentaries, the film crew are not meant to get involved with any animals; let nature take its course and all that, without human intervention. Well, I've decided some of parenting can feel a bit like that. Do I get involved, or do I take a step back and let Nature do its thang?

Yesterday one of the girls were bored. Her sister was out with a friend, and her mum had said no to 'boredom screen-time'. Yesterday, one of the boys found some water balloons... end of story! Thankfully said girl put up with a couple of water balloons being thrown at her, because it was sunny and because she had a big brother to play with. (As a little sister to a big brother, I remember that feeling of putting up with most stuff if it meant he was up for hanging out with me. I watched a lot of The Empire strikes back, for this very reason).

I realised my son was coming into the kitchen quite a lot to get me to tie the balloons. He was making a batch of balloons. I peered out the window, and could see whispers and secret exchanges between one quite wet sister, and one sneaky brother. I asked what they were up to, and I was met with vague truths, "Just spending time with my sister, that's all", "Just filling up water balloons on a sunny day, that's all". I have been a mother long enough to know that, 'that's all' rarely means 'that's all'. And the raised eyebrows which come with it, to convey trust, should be doubted to the highest regard. (In the same way, I know certain periods of quiet from certain children, should be investigated. Likewise certain screams are to be inspected, whereas most can be ignored).

I was having a cup of tea with a friend, who happens to be the mother of the child, my other daughter was with. They were walking the dog, so should be appearing soon... Ah, I see! An ambush was at stake. 

Now here is the dilema; two of my children are well into an hour's sibling fun together by now. Why would I stop that?! That's like gold dust in a mother's world. But would my other child appreciate the drenching ambush, that was coming her way, whilst with her friend? It's hard to tell. Some days she would think that's hilarious, and she loves water play, always has done. Some days that would be the worst thing to happen, and would possibly bring immediate tears. 

Just like the camera crew who helped the stuck penguins not to die in the ice, a few years back, there was a moral dilema taking place. This was made even worse by the fact that my tea drinking friend had a tracker on her phone, so we could even see how close to the house they were getting. By now the other two gigglers are running through the house with balloons, checking the front garden and the back garden, unsure of which route the unsuspecting victims were going to take. Possibly, maybe one of us mothers, or it may have been one of the camera crew, may have possibly suggested it would be the back garden route because they could see it on the tracker. 

It was a perfect unsuspected ambush, met with highe pitched shrieks of "No", which made me and my mum friend question our choices, and grimace slightly at each other, before hearing the laughter and hilarity which ensued, just like we thought (hoped) it would. Ah success all round.

As parents, I believe we mostly have to get involved. We are to point out danger, (which granted, I did not do for my daughter before the ambush). We are to teach, to shape, to model. When kids are little we intervene even with a hand grab or a raised voice to convey trouble. As they get older, we intervene with wisdom, with advice, with steering towards or away from people, situations, choices. Children shouldn't be parenting themselves, we need to do that for them. We are meant to intervene,"to teach them, when sitting in your house and when along the road, when you lie down and when you get up". Deuteronomy 6v7 

One of the greatest ways we can intervene in our kids' lives, is to pray for them. And this we can do, even when they don't want our advice or wisdom. Or when we don't even know how we would intervene. We need to pray for them daily, not just leave them to it, leave it to nature to take its course with their lives. If they were stuck in a frozen ravine, if it was a matter of life and death, we would do all we could to help them out of it. Freshly challenged by the penguins, I think I need to up my prayers for my kids. It is a matter of life and death. That's all. 

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.