Keep Calm & Party On

In the space of two weeks during July, we have celebrated three of our kids' birthdays. (We should have obviously spaced out our 'evenings in with a bottle of wine' during November and December over the last few years). We also hosted a Year 6 leavers' BBQ, which turned out to be pretty much a birthday party, just without the cake.

We have had games galore of course, being married to Mr Newday! (Newday is a youth event, which the husband helps to lead, inevitably making young people do ridiculous things in order to lose their pride and win a milkshake). We have thrown the wellie, and jumped over the wellie while its been spun around on a rope. We have eaten doughnuts off of string. We've done the classics; the three legged race and the wheel barrow race. We've bounced off each other in blown up zorbs, tipped water on our heads when the music stopped, and had various fun with tissue. Lots of fun! Lots of noise! And lots of people! We do like people, us Dawsons.

And then there was one party which wasn't as party-like as the others. One of our lads took a couple of mates bowling. There was orange squash. His brothers were invited in a 'Please come to my party, but not actually get involved. In fact, please just play Pool in the background' kind of way. It was quiet. We didn't even look at a wellie, let alone jump over one. And there was no water involved. 

We realised that as a family, we're quite 'people people'. Some may say a few of us are slight extroverts. But we've come to realise that just because we are from the same family, it does not mean we are from the same mold. This came as quite a surprise to us. We thought it was just how we all were. But then we had a son who didn't find eye contact as easy, and really doesn't need more than two people in his life at any one time. 

I think he stands to show just how different we actually all are. Our family has people who are ordered, and others who are not so. People who love the correct answers that maths gives you, and others who are creative and happy for any answer. People who take risks and those that play it slightly safer. People who like jeans and others who like joggers and now of course, ones that wear dresses. People who are savers, and others who are spenders. People who cry more easily and others who might shout. People who have teddies and others who don't see the point. People with wonderful imaginations and others who prefer scientific, structured play. People who like their music loud and will sing along as if they're on the stage. (Actually that's just the husband) and me who hears music as more of a background thing. People who have many words, and those who speak just a few. (I'll leave you to guess which one I am). People who like crazy parties and one who doesn't. We're a mixed bunch under the slightly loud surface of it all. 

I love that we are all made in God's image. Not one of us is the odd one out in that. God is beautifully creative and yet mind blowingly scientific. He is ever so ordered, and yet does not get flustered when order isn't present. He made the crashing seas to roar and yet calmly brings His peace. He is all powerful, and to be greatly feared yet He is gentle and kind. He can be extremely serious and yet wonderfully joyful...


The mixed bunch living under this roof, relate differently to each other too. There are the sparring pairs, the strong friendship pairs, the imaginative pairs, and the clashing pairs, to name a few. Some of the kids are easier for me to parent. Some, the husband finds easier. I'm sure some of my lot would prefer to talk things through with me, while others probably don't get me at all. We all need grace for one another.

A bit like the church really... we're all a bit different from each other, and have different views and different ways of doing things. And there are some we get along with more easily. Some, we maybe clash a little with. We're all wonderfully, and sometimes annoyingly unique, but we are all in the same family. And our Heavenly Father, fathers us all the same way, with His perfect love and His gentle forgiveness. 

Me and the husband often say, "It's different, not wrong", especially during Marriage Preparation, with other couples. It's quite easy to see our contrasts as wrong, because we don't understand them or like them. But if we are all made in God's image, if we are all in His family, if we have all received the same Grace from Him, then surely it's a good thing to take a moment and see the other person how God sees them. He made them unique for a reason. He made you unique for a reason. And we can usually learn more about His vast character if we see others how He sees them. It helps me too, to parent my mixed bunch better, and to see their unique giftings.

"Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.  If anyone speaks, they should do so as one who speaks the very words of God. If anyone serves, they should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever." 1 Peter 4v10-11

Hidden Treasure

I have four boys, they have two feet each. Each foot, needs a sock. So that's eight socks at any given time. (Not including the girls' socks...mainly because the little one's socks are tiny weeny and the two and a half year old wears a lot of sandals, ballet shoes, princess shoes, flip flops...you get the picture). I say 'any given time', rather than every day, because if left to their own devices, they just wouldn't change their socks. They do not see it as a necessity in life. They would keep them snuggly on their feet until fungus grew in them, evolved legs and walked themselves into the wash basket. One of my boys, used to get out of the bath and put his dirty socks back on. He would have slept in them and worn them again the next day, if we hadn't protested.

On Friday, my wash basket stunk. The heat and those eight socks multiplied several times over, made for an awful stench. I was very pleased to get that particular wash into the machine, seeing as the wash basket is in my bedroom. It's not until I've washed the socks and dried them, do I tend to find the huge holes in them. Maybe this is due to the tree climbing or the walking about without shoes on. Or maybe the smell and dirt just erodes them. (I should probably take my friend's advice, and let them live the South African way; no shoes & no socks).

When I have done a mass wash, I need a pairing plan. I'm not too fussed about odd socks but the husband God blessed me with, is more at 'one with the world', when the socks are paired, when he, I mean they, are ordered. So as a rule, we tend to try to only wear pairs. The boys occasionally grass on me, when their dad questions them about today's sock chaos. I hear "Mum said it was okay". So I had a genius plan which involved some godly teaching. I'd love to say my motive was to keep dripping the Bible into their lives, but I honestly just wanted to get the socks paired. 

So I spent the amount of time it would have probably taken me to pair them, to fill different socks with coins from our loose change pot. When I had run out of loose change, I put some packets of super noodles in, some mini cans of Fanta, some jelly packets and a sweet or two.

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Matthew 6v19-21

I put the basket in the middle of the lounge and asked, "who would like to serve me, by pairing these socks?" The rush of help wasn't immediate. No one was going to get an award for their speed and willingness. But then one of my boys said, as joyously as his heart would allow, "I'll do it mum". I said thank you, and said that I appreciated his willingness to serve me.

So the slow pairing started, one eye on the TV, and one finding the colorful matches first. He heard a jingle in a sock, pulled out a coin and pocketed the findings. He then found another, "muuuum, there's money in here". "Oh is there?" I replied. "Mmm, maybe that's because when you serve other people, you're actually storing treasure up in Heaven". His eagerness picked up some speed, as he hunted through the socks. He seemed to forget it was all about making pairs, so I had to quickly remind him. (This isn't just a fun treasure hunt you know. I do have ulterior motives). And then came the gloat, "Boys, there's money in here and its all gonna be miiiine". One by one, a brother took interest in the new activity unfolding before them, until they were all on the floor, pairing those socks. 

I added another little quip about the first son's willingness to serve when there wasn't a reward, which is of course, pleasing to God....that God had made a note of the son's serving heart, and put aside treasure for him in Heaven. And I pointed out that once they knew about the rewards, they were more likely to get involved. So, as christians, we should tell people what awaits them in Heaven, so that they too can get in on those rewards. I walked into the kitchen for my own caffeine induced reward and wondered if there will be socks in Heaven? 

"Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ." Colossians 3:23-24

Living Life Abundantly

Resurfacing after the birth of baby number six, and I'm holding John 10v10 very close to my heart. "The thief comes only to steal and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly".

My house is definitely full of life; eight people breathing, eating, talking and doing, certainly makes my house feel full of life. On Saturday, there was Origami folding, swimming, successful pottying, tree climbing, cookie making, DVD watching, picnicking, minecraft creating, Cinderella viewing, roof top climbing, play doughing, bike riding, Duplo building, fly catching, fly nurturing and eventually fly burying. (RIP Rosie) 

Doesn't that all sound so wonderfully full of abundant life? Yes it does, but what about the days when it's the eight of us squabbling, moaning, crying, arguing, puking and unsuccessfully pottying (okay, so not all eight of us on that one). That doesn't feel quite so full of life. It feels more like a life sentence. So how can I let this verse shape me on the days where I'd rather not do life abundantly? When I'd rather just do life, under a duvet to be honest.

Well, I've realised that this verse breathes life into me in different ways; not just 'take one house, add two people, add a further four boys and finally two girls into it, and you have abundant life'. True, but there is more as there usually is with scripture.

A friend of mine brought it to me that I was being quite negative with my words, in regards to my big family. I was jokingly apologising to the newest addition, for the family she had been born into. And I kept referring to my family in slightly derogative terms, focusing on the 'crazy', and the 'overwhelming' side of it all. And both these words at times, are completely the right words to use. But I know that my heart was panicking..."What do people think?", "Are we going to manage?" "Have we made a ridiculous choice to have another?" And it was coming out as jokey put downs, as if to jump in defensively before others confirmed the thoughts I was having. 

My friend showed me that I was indeed allowing 'the thief in to steal and destroy'. I wasn't speaking life into my family, quite the opposite. I remember emailing a mother of many, nine to be exact, seven weeks in and saying 'Help'. She said that the overwhelming thoughts she had had, would suck the life right out of her. She was spot on at lifting my chin and reminding me that God had given me faith for a big family and He would therefore give me the abundant grace for it also.

Living life abundantly, doesn't mean having a mini bus full of kids. Life is also lived abundantly by the person with a quiet house, and no kids. It means dwelling in Jesus' goodness for me, no matter what my circumstances or feelings. Dwelling in His joy, His peace, His provision, His forgiveness, His hope, His help, His love for me, and even His work for me to do. That is what brings me life. Come rain or shine, come fun, full days or 'under the duvet' days, come pleasant chats or slamming doors, whether the poo is found in the potty or out of the potty...

Last week, a great example of this came from a friend of mine, who text me a verse about being refreshed. She test me from hospital, after she had just come out of an operation. The operation was to drain her lung, and ease her respiratory problems. Fluid had built up due to the breast-cancer cells, which had been found in the lining of her lung. I would most definitely allow for, even expected her to feel a little destroyed. But nothing is stealing the hope she has in Jesus, away from her. Her text was encouraging and challenging, about how God wonderfully refreshes us, and asks us to bring that refreshment to others. She was and continues to be so full of life, abundant life. She too is holding that verse close to her heart.

Thank God for Monkeys

So if I'm going to be thankful...I'm going to take the kids on the grateful train with me. 

I am the mum; one of the most influential beings in my little people's lives. Me and the husband set the standard in this house. Whether it be with our tones, our quickness to apologise, (his) dance moves, how much we play on our phones, how we talk about people, how we store Tupperware or the moans and woes we verbalise around them. I recognise that if I've not been overly thankful lately, then my little copycats may well have picked up on this. I do feel kind of sorry for this last baby. She is getting the blame for everything... "Mum, are you crying cos of the baby?", "Mum are you stressy cos of the baby?", "Dad, is mum sleeping again cos of the baby?". 


Yesterday when we got in from school, we sat at the table, and I explained that I had been a bit moany and cryey lately. They nodded their heads, in complete agreement and said something about it being the baby's fault. (Oh how well I've prepared them for when they have their own emotional, hormonal wives). And I said that the best way to stop being moany, was to be thankful instead. 

I explained that we were going to write or draw everything and anything we wanted to thank God for. I explained that "every good and perfect gift is from above..." James 1v17. If anything good in life is a gift from God, then we shouldn't ever be able to run out of things to thank Him for. I said that although I was achy and the baby made me feel cryey at times, I was very thankful to God that I am having this baby. 

We had pens & paper, a bucket, a choc ice each, and then it was all systems go, go, go... Those who liked to draw, drew. Those who liked to write sentences, wrote. Those who liked to pretend the pink pen was lipstick, puckered up and those who would only comply with one word per piece of paper, (because "we've finished school for the day") did just that. 

 It didn't take long for the bucket to be filled with things we were all thankful for. Sometimes we read our paper out to everyone, sometimes we just popped our own personal gratitude in the bucket for God to see. It was great to ask each other qualifying statements, like "why have you written 'boxes'?" And to hear the answer of a time when we taped one of the brothers up in a box and then knocked that box over. That is definitely worth thanking God for. He loves fun.

I was intrigued to see that three different boys had thanked God for monkeys. Yep, can't say I've ever stopped to thank God for them. And Granny's roast potatoes deserved the recognition they got for sure. People, and things, and treats, and Science and the beloved cross all got a mention. Because God is good. He loves to give His children good things, and He loves when we stop to delight in His generosity.