The Perfect Parent

The perfect parent; kind and loving all the time, always patient with their children, available to listen whenever needed, continually long suffering, forever self-sacrificial and abundantly lavish too! Even though their children are demanding and self seeking, they seem to be able to love them unconditionally, delight in them consistently and never ever tire of them. Have you met one of these parents?

Well, actually have you met Him? There is only one parent like this; Our Heavenly Father. He is perfect and treats me with such undeserved grace, patience and long-suffering as I continually demand my own selfish ways. I am not like Him.... I am made in His image, so when there are glimmers of goodness in my parenting it's all down to Him. However, some of the time my boys would vouch for the fact that I'm not always oozing with perpetual patience.

Last night for example, I killed off Peppa Pig. Harsh I know. But we were reading about her fun trip to the swimming pool, again. We had already read it twice in five minutes, as requested by my youngest son. And it's not like he was even really listening; he was instead finding it funny to roll off the sofa onto the book and laugh in that over-tired kind of way that a two year old does at 8pm. But when I tried to put it down, due to his lack of interest, he was most put out. So third time round as I read it, some of the words and activities seem to change in this much loved book. Instead of a fun meeting with Rebecca Rabbit and her mum, and all the usual fun splashes from George Pig and Richard Rabbit, an unexpected event occurred. Poor Peppa unfortunately came to quite a sad ending at the bottom of the pool, with her so-called friend Rebecca not even diving in to help. The book was closed, my son looked at me to see if he had heard right, he was kissed on the forehead and tucked into bed.

So today, I am just so grateful that the perfect parent does exist and that He fathers me so wonderfully well, forever patient with me. I'm grateful for mercies which are consistently renewed each morning, and I'm quite thankful too that I'm not Peppa Pig. Maybe I'll show her a bit more mercy tomorrow.

Parents, I pray that you would be "strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, giving joyful thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of his holy people in the kingdom of light." Colossians 1v11

Have A Little Patience

This afternoon I went off to Asda with my youngest. We walked down each aisle, we found some good deals, we piled the trolley sky high with the weekly needs, we got our standard pack of Prawn Crackers half way round, and we headed to the checkout over an hour later.

That's where we met Janice, the check-out lady. I started to unload the weekly shop onto the conveyor belt, and my youngest delicately threw the items near him onto the belt in his own special helpful way. As usual with my shopping, the items didn't all fit on. I needed Janice to start scanning the items through. My first item was a reduced Star Wars Storm Trooper helmet, and I turned round to see Janice trying it on. She pointed out what a good deal it was. (Reduced from £9.00 to £2.50) She eventually started scanning the items, and I was able to load the rest of the shopping from the trolley. I wrongly had assumed that she would have started packing the items into the bags, but instead both sides of the til were now just filled with all of my food. I started bagging up my shopping. Janice was not the quickest of check-out ladies. She was in a very chilled mood. She had quite a bit to say about my reduced items and the things she liked. She chatted to my little one, and encouraged him to wear the Storm Trooper helmet, all the while smiling away.

I rubbed my forehead, as I looked at my snail like shopping crawling across the line as I asked for more carrier bags than the three I had been given. Then I had a thought, I had a choice to be patient with this lady or impatient. I had a choice to act in a godly way or not. I knew quite clearly that being impatient would not even get my shopping done any quicker, and that choosing the 'patience option' was what God was requiring of me, and He knew what was best for me, and best for Janice.

So I took a deep breath, smiled back and asked her how long she had worked there. Fifteen years! There were so many comments which I could have made, but instead I slowly packed the bags and continued chatting, eventually finding a way of letting her know that there was a church which met at the Racecourse. I asked her if she was the churchy type and this chilled, slow-paced lady, with no higher speed level said that she didn't have time to go to church. Ah Janice, you don't have time not to go to church! I thought about how patient God was being with this older lady who didn't have time to get to know Him. I thought again about how patient God is with me as I make choices to live according to His way or my own. I thought about how choosing to be patient with Janice, had made me have a much less stressful shopping trip as well as helping me see the bigger picture.

As I paid and left, I heard her say to the next customer that she was sorry to have kept them waiting. I smiled and thought I should probably go to Janice's checkout next time I shop, with Take That's 'Have a little patience' lyrics in my head as I spend time listening to her, knowing that God wants her to come to know Him.

  "But do not forget this one thing, dear friends:

With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day.

   The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness.

Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish,

   but everyone to come to repentance."  2 Peter 3v8-9

Before The Chaos

This morning, just before the chaos of life began, my youngest walked into my room and climbed into my bed. He didn't say anything, he just got into a spooning position in front of me and I pulled the duvet over him and held him. We laid there, all warm and quiet for some time, before we eventually started chatting about the day ahead and what kind of sleep he had had.


It dawned on me how tantrummy he had been the day before, wanting his own two year old way about things. But I hadn't thought about that as he had climbed in bed for a snuggly cuddle. It was just one of those lovely, peaceful mummy moments which I treasured. And I was just so pleased to see my son, welcome him into the warm duvet and enjoy a few precious moments with him, no doubt before the odd tantrum or two.

I thought about my Heavenly Father; how He loves it when I just approach Him, simply to spend time with Him, to rest in His presence and feel safe in His arms. I love that as soon as He sees me, He is pleased with me, and not because of anything I have done or achieved, but because of who I am. I love that because of what Jesus has done for me, redeeming me from my sinful state, my Heavenly Father looks at me with sheer delight and joy. He doesn't dwell on the tantrums of yesterday when I tried to get my own thirty-four year old way about things, but instead He shows me new undeserved mercy again each morning. He welcomes me into His peaceful presence; into His tender, loving arms and asks me to enjoy a few precious moments with Him. What a great way to start the day, before the chaos of life begins.

"How precious is your steadfast love, O God!
The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings."

Psalm 36v7

Let it Rain

So it appears I have been in hiding for a little while. I have for some of the time been in my room, with an inflamed leg up on some cushions, one child with Tonsillitis, the television on as the boys' new best friend, and easy meals pre-cooked from restaurants and shops. We've all been camped out in one room, with many boxes and kitchen utensils, due to the new kitchen being put in downstairs. It did have a certain holiday feel to it at times and it was nice doing nothing, apart from vegging with the boys in my bed. Although Cbeebies did reach it's maximum viewing level and there is only so much time five of us can spend in one room together.

I feel like I have also been hiding in the wilderness for a little while; a camping trip to the valley of dry bones it seems. Not really praying, or reading the word, or even dwelling on the Lord God Almighty for a few minutes to thank Him. The busyness of life in one room, the pain in my leg, the boys, the kitchen, buying pre-cooked meals, remembering Antibiotics and finding places to eat breakfast seemed to claim my focus as I went through the motions of life.

I've been on some interesting camping holidays in my lifetime, but camping out in Ezekiel's valley of dry bones these last few weeks has not been one of my most fun ones. Feeling dried up, lacking in hope and cut off from the land of the living has not been life-giving or joy enhancing at all. I think I'd rather get rained on and flooded out.

So I've started praying little prayers, talking to God in the every day moments and thanking Him again for who He is and all He has done for me, and funnily enough, with my focus back on Him not me, breath is coming back to the dry bones. After all, it is promised in God's word;

I will make rivers flow on barren heights,
and springs within the valleys.
I will turn the desert into pools of water,
and the parched ground into springs.

Isaiah 41v18

So I'm looking forward to putting my wellies and rain mac on, checking my tent pegs are secure and standing out in the rain.

The Bench and The Plank

Last week I helped a friend move house. Well, I say 'helped' in a very loose way; me and my youngest were definitely there. I drank tea, and made some for the removal men but that was my level of help. It was a beautiful sunny day and we sat on a little bench, while I gave my son a running commentary of what was leaving the house and what was going in the van. He seemed happy enough to repeat everything I said and occasionally get in the way just a little as heavy furniture was manoeuvred around him.

While we sat on the bench the window behind me opened and a little old, grey-haired head popped out. I smiled sweetly at the little old lady, and carried on the great furniture departure story with my boy. The lady smiled and told me that the bench was not communal. I said, "Ok...." in that kind of questioning way of saying, 'surely it's okay for me and my two year old to sit on it though?' But I had heard right the first time. The bench was not communal. It was her's and she'd like me and my son to not sit on it.


Aware that the two removal men were now watching this little moment unfold, I got off the bench and sat on the grass. The removal men made up a song about 'sad busybodies who had too much time on their hands' which I uncomfortably smiled at. And I sat and played with my youngest.

About ten minutes later, the little old lady opened her front door and asked me to come inside for a chat. So in I went to her little house. She started to explain to me that she lived with her old aged brother and his wife who was very disabled, and the noise travelled in from the bench by the window and disturbed her poorly sister in law. She thought I was moving in next door to her, and we had clearly got off on the wrong foot, so she wanted to apologise and explain her reactions.

I guess the whole thing got me thinking of how quick we are to judge one another. Without the little old lady's explanation, I wonder how I would have told the story to the husband when I got home. I presume I would have judged her as a busybody like the removal men had. I presume I would have judged me as the one in the right, and her as sticking her nose in, and being old and selfish. I wonder what judgements I make of others, their words and actions, without knowing the whole story or their heart behind those actions. I wonder what I take as a judgement about me, my kids, or my parenting when people say things. I wonder what my heart is like when I make these judgements or hear them back. The lady went from being a selfish busybody to a caring sister in law all in the space of ten minutes. Funny how a plank in the eye can really distort your vision!

 “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?
 How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?
You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye." Matthew 7v3-5

Lamb Chop and Mint Sauce

I'm a bit behind with my bible reading at the moment, and I have to admit it's because I just hit Leviticus! I was really enjoying Exodus; the battles, the victories, the faith ventures and impossible miracles. But then I hit Leviticus and it wasn't as dramatic or tremendous. It's all about sin offerings, burnt offerings, guilt offerings, wave offerings, grain offerings and peace offerings. It's all about sacrificing rams, sacrificing ox, sacrificing unblemished goats, and sacrificing lambs for the people. And it is written in such immense detail, down to what should be done with the blood and the fat of the animal. It's not the most joyful read, especially if you're squeamish at all. So I admit that my eagerness died down a bit. I wanted battles, victories, faith and miracles not detailed descriptions of how to kill and chop a lamb, what to do with his kidneys and with not even a mention of mint sauce.

Yesterday morning, I had a quiet moment in the house, so I sat down on the sofa and simply closed my eyes and started talking to God about my day. My Heavenly Father in His wonderful, undeserved grace, gently rebuked me.  It just hit me; the reason I could just sit on my sofa and be in the privileged position of speaking to God, the creator of the universe, the giver of life and my own breath was because of the greatest sacrifice that had ever taken place. And so the repentance began.

The detailed sacrifices in Leviticus showed reverence and awe and fear towards God. Yet there I was showing no reverence, no awe and no fear towards God in how I was reading the bible. The sacrifices emphasised the vastness of sin and the requirement for it to be severely dealt with. And there I was not even trying to understand what those sacrifices meant, or the great relevance they had in relation to my sin being dealt with. The sacrifices were brought to the priest, showing his importance in representing the people. And there I was not giving Jesus a second thought as the great High Priest and how He represented me on the cross. The offerings and constant death of animals showed to what extent sin needed to be dealt with in order for God to not pour His wrath on the people. And there I was not even considering my own sin, not considering Jesus' death and not considering the wrath and punishment my sins deserved.

Thankfully, I didn't need to kill a lamb or a goat out in the garden before I sat on the sofa that morning. I didn't need to go and gather grain. I didn't need to present anything to a priest. It had all been done for me. My sin still needed to be atoned for. It still offended God, just as much as in the Leviticus days. But my sin had been atoned for when Jesus took the punishment I deserved, on the cross. The perfect, unblemished lamb was put to death, taking God's wrath from me. I wanted battles, victories, faith ventures and impossible miracles. What else does Leviticus point to? Undeserved grace and forgiveness sounds pretty dramatic and tremendous to me. Jesus' painful death and sacrifice means that not only have my sins been completely dealt with and removed from me, but now I can talk to God Almighty, in the quiet of my lounge on my sofa, and joyfully read the book of Leviticus.

"All Scripture is God-breathed

and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness,

 so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work."

                                                                                                      2 Timothy 3v16-17

To Infinity and Beyond

The Gym: so far it has been an amusing experience. I freaked out on the cross trainer because my legs were going faster than my body, and I learnt quite quickly that you can't just stop on it, because you do a kind of mid air hop while the machine keeps going. I freaked out on the running machine because I was convinced I would fall off the end. My friend, a personal trainer was very calm with me, but did have to talk to me like a child, "Where are your feet? Can you see your feet? They're nowhere near the end, are they? Look at your feet."

And then there is the changing room experience; trying to gauge when it's a 'wear a towel' moment and when it's not. Hoping my friends don't decide to use the gym the moment I've decided it's a quick 'non towel' moment. There's the horror of forgetting to even bring a large towel, and attempting all sorts of manoeuvres with the tiny gym sweat towel. But my favourite moment so far was when I decided tights were a good option for the day! I had successfully got through the moisturising moment; involving the complexity of holding my towel and the moisture cream bottle and the tights, which just felt like another workout. I then put on my 'keep the tights hoiked up' pants over the top of the tights and looked up at the other ladies who had got dressed. I assumed from their attire that they worked, their jobs mainly being in offices. And I realised that they must be looking at me and assuming from my attire that my job was indeed some kind of weird superhero. I found this far too amusing and continued getting dressed.


In that moment, thinking about what I was wearing, I knew there were other essentials I needed to have on for the day! I needed the belt of truth buckled around my waist, the breastplate of righteousness in place, the shield of faith and the helmet of salvation, to name but a few. If I didn't have these in place then in my vulnerability, I would not end the day well. I would end the day doubting, after listening to lies, with a wrong self image, possibly bound up and easily tripped. So with my superhero pants on, my mind set on the truth of God's word, and the righteousness in which I stand, I put on my cape and went out to tackle the day - to infinity and beyond! Well, actually I just went down the road to the boys' school and back. But I knew how important it was to be fully dressed, even for the school run.

"Therefore put on the full armour of God,
so that when the day of evil comes,
you may be able to stand your ground,
 and after you have done everything, to stand."
Ephesians 6v13 

I'm Lovin' It

So Saturday morning was meant to start with me alone with the boys, due to the husband being away on a Stag weekend. (I attempted to explain what a Stag weekend was to my eldest, and now he can't wait to arrange them for his brothers). Even though we were five not six this morning, we heard the key in the door at 7:15am. There was the husband with four McDonald's breakfasts, a bag of Granola, strawberries and yoghurt. The boys tucked into their sausage and pancakes and a cup of tea was placed in my hand. Then the husband was off again to shoot balls of paint at other men.


Brownie points indeed for the husband's grand gesture and it left us all feeling full, loved and thought of by him. As I was munching my Granola and strawberries, I was reminded of the book I read the youngest earlier in the week, "Guess How Much I Love You". It's about a little rabbit who explains to his dad that he loves him, and the daddy rabbit out does him each time with bigger love. I thought about what the husband had done for us; leaving his time away with his buddies, in order to drive to McDonalds in the early hours, and pop into Asda just to bring us breakfast. It left us feeling very loved indeed. But I knew in that moment that my heavenly daddy out does even the grandest gestures of love and sacrifice, He even out does McDonalds love. In His word, it says; 
"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him." John 3v16-17

What's not to love about these verses? Our Heavenly Father loves us so much, that He gave us His son in order to save us. I also love this verse because it is unconditional and open to all. Even if there is no earthly husband or father to lavish their love with Granola and pancakes, this verse states that the Father's gift of Jesus is for "whoever believes". So His lavish love is for all, whether people know of earthly tokens of it or not. His love, His goodness and His kindness are displayed in what He has done for us and who He is. Also, the creation we see around us displays His love towards us, the earthly acts of love between people show His love and for us  and today, McDonalds shows God's love too.
I'm lovin' it.

A Camel's Perspective

I read 'Peppa Pig goes swimming' and 'The camel who found Christmas' to one of my boys, as they were tucked up in bed this week. We didn't get too deep with Peppa, but the camel's perspective of the Christmas story turned out to be quite helpful. The camel was a bit worried about meeting King Jesus. He was worried he wasn't big enough or important enough to meet a king. He was worried he wasn't smart enough or special enough to meet a king. (Even though I presume a talking camel would come across as quite smart and quite special) But the mummy camel reassured the little camel that everyone was invited to meet King Jesus, no matter who they were, and no matter who they weren't. No matter what they had done and no matter what they hadn't done.

As I read about the camel's physical and emotional journey to meet the king, I added a few of my own lines into the story, in my best camel voice of course. I said that the camel was a bit worried about meeting King Jesus because of the tantrums he had vocally expressed that day, and the disobedience he had shown to his mummy that day, and the rudeness that mummy camel had to put up with that day. I wasn't sure if my son was picking up on my subtle additions to the story, but he seemed fully engaged in the life of this camel, whose actions weren't dissimilar to his own. So with his mind fully engaged on this disobedient, rude, tantrummy camel, I was able to be the voice of the mummy camel and reassure him that he was still invited and welcome to meet King Jesus.

Sometimes I am tempted to express to my kids that they're only welcome to come to me when they're being good, well behaved, calm and polite. What if they think that Jesus only welcomes them in when they're like this too? Of course, I want my boys to be good and obedient. But I would be hindering their understanding of grace, if they thought they had to get it right in order to come to me. I would be hindering them so much, if they thought they had to get it right in order to come to Jesus.

I know that if I had to get it right in order to come to Jesus, I simply wouldn't be able to come to Him. King Jesus welcomes my boys in right in the midst of their tantrums. Which means that He also welcomes me in, standing bemused on the other side of that tantrum, or having a tantrum of my own. He welcomes my boys in when they think they're not good enough, or important enough. Which means He welcomes me in when I think the same. He welcomes them in even when they're being disobedient and rude. Which means He also welcomes mummy camel in, even when she's got the right hump with them too.

Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them,
for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”
Matthew 19v15

Sex Sells

Apparently slavery was abolished in the 19th Century. Then how come an estimated 27 million people are held in slavery today? Human trafficking, the illegal trade of human beings for exploitation, is a crime which is growing faster than drugs and weapons. Every thirty seconds another person becomes a victim of Human Trafficking. Children as young as four are sold into sex slavery and women are expected to service a man up to forty times a day. These statistics alone should make us feel sick, disgusted, upset and angry.

This blog post is in support of The A21 Campaign, which is committed to combating the injustice of human trafficking, through rescuing one life at a time. If you think slavery is wrong, if you think women being forced to have sex is wrong, if you think children should not have to know of this, yet alone be involved in it or if you think injustice is wrong, then please check out their website http://www.thea21campaign.org/ and see how you can help. Have a look at Natalia's Story on the website.

And finally, please download "Twenty Seven Million" by Matt Redman and LZ7 from itunes or Amazon in order to raise awareness.

"You may choose to look the other way but you can never again say you did not know." William Wilberforce

"The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favour and the day of vengeance of our God.."

Isaiah 61v1-2

The Truth, The Whole Truth And Nothing But The Truth

There was a great moment at dinner this week. Our youngest boy had eaten all his sausage and cheese, but was reluctant to consume the pepper. At stake was a delicious Neapolitan ice cream cake, but the pepper was standing in the way of him ever getting it. The husband was delighted to think that said Neapolitan ice cream cake would soon be his. But the boy's brothers decided to start chanting his name and clapping him and telling him he could do it, showing him the cake, and cheering him on. Eventually, spurred on by the encouragement he shoved in the food and it was gone. Reluctantly the husband handed over the cake.

The 'cheering on' aspect of the great pepper consumption reminded me of what I had written in my prayer journal last week. Sometimes I don't stand on the truth of what the bible says about God, and His view of me. I can get myself in a doubting muddle or wallow in a bit of "whoa is me" attitude. The bit when the donkey in Shrek sings "I'm all alone" comes to mind. So I wrote down what the Father actually thinks of me, what the coach shouts at me from the sidelines...

"You can trust me. I am terrifying but you are safe in me. I know you. I'm not surprised by your sin or your lack of faith. I see you and I know you. My beloved son spent Himself for you. I spent all I had on you. I have more for you. You can come close and you wont get burned. I delight in you. I am faithful to you. I am slow to anger. I cherish you. I have you. I am your father. You are welcome in my house, in my presence. I listen to you. I am never too busy for you. I have defeated the enemy. The lies he tells you have no power. My truth is sweet. Taste and see that I am good. It is my choice to bless you. You are chosen and accepted. I have adopted you. You are no orphan. You can do all things through my son. I am mighty in battle. I do not grow weary. My arm is not too short to provide for you. I am all you need. I cannot reject you. I picked you for my team. I ride on a mighty horse, as the head of the army. I am powerful. Fear me but do not be afraid. You can approach me. I am your refuge and your coach. I will not pour my wrath on you. I poured it on my son instead. Before you even wake up, I am pleased with you. When you go to sleep, I am still pleased with you. I cannot be moved or shaken. I hold you. You don't phase me. I am uncontainable. I am mighty. I love you. I've got your back. I am for you."

If someone said this to me every day, I'm sure I would live a little differently. Oh hang on, this is said to me every single day and on through eternity. It's the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth!

"For the word of the LORD is right and true; he is faithful in all he does."
                                                                                                        Psalm 33v4

Missing One Blue Toothbrush

This week one of the little blue toothbrushes went to stay with his Granny and Pops for two nights. He had the choice of taking a brother with him, but he decided he would like his grandparents all to himself. So off he went with his ruck sack on his back, and Tigger in his arms. It was hard to tell which one was the jumpy, excitable soft toy and which one was the jumpy, excitable small boy!
It sounds like he had a wonderful time; two adults listening to him solely for two days, a train ride to London, a visit to the Transport Museum, sweets from the M&M store, a Happy Meal from FatDonalds and hours of Scaletrix with Pops. What a blessing grandparents are!

But oh how we missed him! We missed his boundless energy. We missed his cheeky smile. We missed his funny little ways, his words, his bounce. We missed one of our blue toothbrushes. Even one of his older brothers said that he missed being annoyed by him. The house was a little quieter, bedtimes were a little easier, but there was definitely something lacking in our house. We could feel it physically, but also emotionally.

It got me thinking of how much God must miss us when we drift away from him, for a day, a week or longer. In the story of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15v11-32), the Father was looking out for his son, longing to see him again, “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him." I love that Abba Father is out looking for my return, with open arms. What a wonderful truth to dwell on. The jubilation we felt yesterday when our dear boy returned to us was lovely. His dad swept him into his arms and held him tightly, for a long while, kissing him and telling him how much he loved him. And we forget that this is how our Heavenly Father looks at us. He is waiting, watching from far off, yearning for us to repent and return to Him, after even one day. He is ready to pick us up and spin us around and hug us and kiss us and tell us how much He loves us.

Q&A

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

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

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

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

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

I Can Do It By Myself

Dear God,

I am sorry for

Raising my voice at the kids

and

Sighing about the husband working late

and

Putting my needs above his

and

Using a disrespectful tone

and

Serving the family begrudgingly

and

Wishing they'd appreciate me more

and

Shouting and snapping

and

Being impatient with people

and

Putting my needs above theirs

and

Moaning and complaining

and

Not bearing any good fruit

and

Not getting up early to read your word

and

Being too busy to pray

Actually God,

Please forgive me for

Thinking I can do all the above without you

and

Do it all in my own strength

and

For being self sufficient

and

Too proud to ask you for help

and

For not reading your word

and

Not seeking your will

and

Not trusting you

and

Not spending time with you

Amen

"Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace,

that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."

Hebrews 4v16

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

Psalm 91v1

The Life Of a Dishcloth (Part Two)

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

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

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

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

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

The Life Of a Dishcloth (Part One)

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

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

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

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

that times of refreshing may come from the Lord,"

                                                                                  Acts 3v19

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

Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire

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

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

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

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

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

                                                      Psalm 51v6

Navel-Gazing

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

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

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

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

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


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


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

“I lift my eyes up to the hill. 

From where does my help come? 

My help comes from the Lord,

who made heaven and earth.”

                                   Psalm 121:1

Marlon and Me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heavenly Jelly

This morning, my four year old was taunting his younger brother by holding his new Christmas present just out of reach. The way that only an older sibling knows how to. (I would know, I have one!) When I questioned his actions, he explained that he was helping his little brother to be selfless!

Now we do use the 'selfless' word quite a lot in our household, but I guess after hearing his response, it needs more teaching into! We give the boys lots of opportunities to be selfless. When there is only one jelly available after dinner, we explain that some boys need to be selfless and go without, and let their brother have it. 
When it's DVD time, everyone chooses their favourite, and then we ask who is going to be selfless and let their brother have the best.


One of my boys is naturally more selfless. He is made in the image of God, as all of us are, but this characteristic really shines brightly through him. He recently asked us if he needs to be selfless every time, and to be honest, I understand why he would ask. He regularly sacrifices what is best for him, in order that one of his brothers has the best instead. So much so, that we have to choose for him sometimes, so that he does get to enjoy a jelly or a DVD at times.

Sometimes it's hard to give the right answers to the boys. Sometimes I want to soften the blow of the gospel. It is shocking. But softening the blow of the gospel, would result in me watering down the word of God, which I definitely don't want to do! But the answer to his question is 'Yes'. Yes he is to be selfless every time. And not in a legalistic way, but in recognition of God's selfless, undeserved grace that He shows us. Every time we are selfless, we are remembering how selfless God the father is. He gave us His only son to die in our place, for our sins, and take the punishment we deserve. And every time we are selfless, we are worshipping Him! So, the answer to my son was  a resounding yes. Not a watered down, "No it's okay to put yourself first sometimes" response, to make it easier for him. But what a challenge it was to say that Yes to him. Thankfully of course, that 'Yes' comes with great grace, and I get to teach him that too. I also get to teach him that what he gives up here, His Heavenly Father will give him back many times over - Heavenly jelly probably rocks!

"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

I Want It Now!

Over Christmas, we watched some great old films with the boys; 'Honey I shrunk the kids', 'Home Alone' with the oldest and one of my favourites, 'Willy Wonka & the Chocolate factory'. Once the boys got over the hilarity of 'willy' being in the title of the film, they watched in awe at all the magical moments which I remember enjoying as a little girl. One of my favourite scenes features the wallpaper that you can lick which tastes of strawberries and snozzberries. In my magical childhood world, this would be wonderful. In reality, as a mum, I think this would be sticky and unhygienic and my walls would be covered in spit!

I love the characters in the film. If I could choose a part to play, I would go for Veruca Salt. She is immense! She is spoilt, demanding, selfish, precocious, arrogant and she has her daddy wrapped around her little finger. She wants an Oompa Loompa, she wants a golden goose, she wants pink macaroons and a million balloons and performing baboons, (who wouldn't?) And she wants it now!

And thus Veruca, what a teaching point you are....


As my boys watched her, I told them that they would be just like her if I never disciplined them, if I never told them off, if I never said no to them. If I said yes to all their demands and gave them all they wanted, they would be just like Veruca Salt. The four year old didn't necessarily see what was wrong with this wonderful spirited girl, she looked like a lot of fun! But my older two really saw what I was saying and didn't like her ugly characteristics. I explained to them that Veruca was the one in charge in their family. She got whatever she wanted and her daddy hadn't done her any favours by giving into her. I explained that actually Veruca was not to blame. Her daddy should have disciplined her.


As the Oompa Loompas sing their song, and you will be tempted to as you read; "Who do you blame when your kid is a brat, Pampered and spoiled like a Siamese cat? Blaming the kids is a lie and a shame, You know exactly who to blame: The mother and the father!". They were obviously paraphrasing Proverbs 13v24; "Whoever spares the rod hates their children, but the one who loves their children is careful to discipline them."

Even though the Oompa Loompa's version comes with an upbeat song, dungarees and a dance routine, the proverbs verse seems to come with more of a punch. It suggests that Veruca's dad, through his lack of discipline, was actually hating his daughter. If he had said 'no' to her and disciplined her in the right way, he would have shown his love to her! It was a helpful moment for the boys to grasp. And as usual, it's a helpful moment for me to grasp too.Thankfully God knows that if he gave me everything I wanted, whenever I wanted it, I would end up going down the 'Bad Egg' shoot, like Veruca did. Instead in His love, He sometimes has to discipline me and say 'no' to me, no matter how much I make a song and dance of it!

This One's For You

So my New Year's resolution last year was to write a blog about every day life as a mum and a wife, honing in on the moments where God reveals Himself more to me. I think it's the only resolution I've ever kept. And it's been much more enjoyable than giving up chocolate! I have a couple of personal favourites; What's On Your Finger and When The Fog Clears. They are quite different from each other; one made me laugh and one made me cry. But that seems to be how it is as a mum. The husband's most memorable post is Come On Lad. And I like that one is simply called Knickers!


For the stat lovers out there, or just for the husband, I wrote 75 posts in 2011, and had 20,300 views. One Pink Toothbrush has been viewed in several countries; India, Ireland, Germany, South Africa, Pakistan, Canada, Qatar, Ukraine, Australia, Russia, Venezuela, Lebanon, America, United Arab Emirates, Poland, and New Zealand to name but a few. Oh and a few from Brighton! I have read many encouraging comments and messages about the blog, and not just from my mum, (although she is my biggest fan).


So, in true Oscar style, this one's for you! I would like to thank everyone who has read a post, shared a post, stumbled across a post by accident on Facebook, been interviewed for a post, written a post or just said something which has ended up in a post! I'd like to thank the husband for his role as 'the husband', and my four little boys who keep me and others entertained. And of course, I want to thank God for using my crazy moments to draw me closer to Him and to somehow bless and encourage others, especially other mums. The wonderful fact that God chooses to use the weak so that He may show His strength will always astound me. He could've chosen to use a perfect mum to write a blog about her perfect children, but she and they just don't exist, so you've got me instead! With gratitude in my heart, thank you for reading.

 "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly

as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom,

 and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs

with gratitude in your hearts to God." Colossians 3v16