Happy Christmas Everybody!
Thank you for reading Mum in Zone One this year. It really does encourage me. I hope I’ve encouraged you. God willing, you shall be hearing from me in the New Year.
For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Isaiah 9:6
By the time you read this I’ll be in sunny Mexico!
Of course that’s not true, I’m not going to Mexico for Christmas. I’m going to my mum and dad’s, up North, which I love. And one thing you can be sure of at my mum’s – especially at Christmas – is that wherever you’re sitting, there’ll be a newspaper supplement within arm’s reach.
But as I sit down by the fire to look at “2015 in Pictures” it’s not going to fill me with a warm fuzzy glow of contentment, is it? In 2015 the news has been dominated by terrorism, refugees fleeing for their lives, the earthquakes in Nepal back in April, shootings in the United States, and corruption in FIFA. You can easily start to wonder, is there any hope for our world today? Sometimes we just need to hear some good news, don’t we?
Well let’s look at the most terrifying birth announcement in history, from Luke’s gospel (you can read the full passage here):
8 There were shepherds living out in the fields nearby. It was night, and they were taking care of their sheep. 9 An angel of the Lord appeared to them. And the glory of the Lord shone around them. They were terrified. 10 But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news. It will bring great joy for all the people. 11 Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you. He is the Messiah, the Lord. (From Luke 2)
We don’t know much about these shepherds, but they were doing a hard job that isolated them from the rest of the community. They were Jews living in Roman-occupied Judea in Israel. They were poor, and they would have had to pay high taxes to the Romans. Life was tough.
We’ve heard about the shepherds and the angels so many times that it doesn’t surprise us anymore, but really it is shocking that an angel visited these poor men, working a nightshift outside a small, insignificant town.
I saw the Queen the other day. It was one of the most exciting things that’s happened to me in a long time! I was walking past a church, and she was getting out of a car and walking into the church. I saw her for about five and she didn’t even wave.
But if she’d stopped and turned round, come over to me and said, ‘Can we talk? I have some important news for you, Catherine,’ that would have been astonishing! Because why would the Queen of our nation and the commonwealth want to speak to me, lowly northern housewife that I am? And if we think that’s ridiculous, then how much more amazing is it that the God of the universe sent his angels to visit these ordinary shepherds?
And what did the angel say? ‘I bring you good news.’ They needed some good news. And don’t we, too?
And do you notice, the angel doesn’t say ‘I bring you a new religion, or I’ve brought you a new set of rules to follow.’ This baby is good news for all of us. This is what makes Jesus’ message so different from all other religions and all other lifestyle choices. It’s not advice or rules or a moral code to follow. It’s joyful, life-changing news.*
So what’s this news about?
Today in the town of David a Saviour has been born to you. He is the Messiah, the Lord.
Messiah means ‘anointed one’, or king. It’s the same word as Christ. These Jewish shepherds, if they knew their Jewish scriptures, would have known that God had promised to send a rescuing king to save them.
But what did they need saving from? We get the answer in Matthew Chapter 1, where an angel tells Joseph, Mary’s husband-to-be, that this baby will ‘save his people from their sins.’
It’s not really normal to talk about sins anymore, unless it’s something to do with eating a curly wurly when you’re doing slimming world. I remember Kayleigh in Peter Kay’s Car Share talking about saving up all her syns for the weekend.
But in the Bible sin isn’t something to joke about. It’s the reason we’re not in the relationship with God that we were all made for. My kids have learnt at church that Sin (SIN) stands for Shove off God, I’m in charge, No to your rules. We want to be in charge of our lives, and so we don’t want God telling us what to do. And that means we’re not right with God, and it’s what makes relationships with each other so hard, too.
We might see this most clearly in children, just because they don’t cover it up as well as adults. ‘No!’ ‘Don’t want to!’ ‘Won’t!’ They lie on the floor kicking and screaming because they can’t have their own way. But I do wonder, am I any different, deep down?
The Bible says that this is not just what petulant tots do, it’s the way we all act towards God: we’ve all decided to be in charge of our own lives and so we’ve cut ourselves off from God. That’s why a new set of rules to follow isn’t going to help us, we need a saviour.
I don’t know if you read the story back in May about Pemba Tamang, a 15-year-old Nepalese boy who became trapped under the rubble of a 7-storey hotel during the Kathmandu earthquake. Amazingly he survived for five until a rescue team appeared and dug him out.
Now imagine that instead of clearing a path and carrying him out on a stretcher, the team had just shouted down instructions to him, or sent him a little map of how to crawl out. Of course that wouldn’t work, would it? He was completely trapped, absolutely helpless. He didn’t need instructions, he needed rescuing.
The Bible says that our sin has trapped us, so that we’re cut off from God with no way of helping ourselves out. That’s why a new moral code or a new religion isn’t going to help us. That’s why we need a saviour. And that’s why Jesus is good news for all of us. Jesus came for everyone, because we’re all like Pemba Tamang, trapped under the rubble and debris of our own sin. We all need this Saviour.
Think about it, do I believe that I’m a sinner? Maybe not, most of us don’t think of ourselves as sinners do we? But put it this way: do I live as though I think that I can get on with my life without God in charge of me? Because God sees that as sin, and a serious problem, which cost him everything to fix. He sent his son to earth as a fragile baby so that we could be brought back into that relationship with God that we were made for.
Some news you read or hear about and it just doesn’t apply to you. It might be interesting or even shocking, but unless it’s something to do with the country where you live, or likely to affect you personally, you can usually just carry on as if it’s not really happening.
And I think one way to respond to the message about Jesus is like that, to think ‘well this just doesn’t apply to me.’ But this news isn’t like that. The angels say it’s for all the people. So that does include us. Because God’s view is that everyone needs this Saviour.
Or another way you might respond is to think that you just don’t believe any of this stuff happened. Angels? Saviours? None of it sounds real. And if that’s how you feel, maybe you could try doing what the shepherds did: “Let’s go to Bethlehem. Let’s see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” Maybe, this Christmas, you could go and see for yourself. Read one of the four gospels (Matthew/Mark/Luke/John), or ask a Christian friend to read the Bible with you. I’d love you to you know how fantastic this news really is, so let me know (e.g. in the comments) if you’d like to and you’re not sure how, or check out the links below:
Some good questions are answered well here, such as ‘can we trust the bible?’
Or there is this short video explaining the Christian message.
Here’s a festive video from my friend Rachel: Make the Most of Christmas
*this is paraphrased from Timothy Keller, King’s Cross.
This blog post is adapted from a talk I did this week at a Christmas event. Sorry it’s long, but the talk was twice as long! Hope you made it to the end.
As usual, please comment by clicking on the speech bubble at the top.
“I got an unexpected phone call today asking me to go and help someone out, and I was pleased because I was at a loose end and it was good to have something to do with my morning.”
This obviously is a sentence I have NEVER uttered. Because really, I’m never at a loose end, are you? Bored yes, but not actually lacking in things to do.
I’ve been thinking lately about being a good friend, and about helping people in need, and being servant-hearted. In theory I’m well up for it, but when it actually happens, if it’s unexpected, I find it somewhat stressful.
Usually the needs that crop up day-to-day come in the form of what I see as interruptions. They interrupt the plans I had for that day or week. It might be that my plan was to have a nap, or it might be that I was about to do something I really need to do, like cook a meal or have a shower. And the interruption might be small, such as a small child falling over and needing a kiss, or it might be bigger, such as a friend needing to go to hospital. And my response to these interruptions to my own agenda vary, depending on how proud and control-freaky I am feeling.
Take this morning for example. My husband went to work and forgot his clothes (unless you count the clothes he’d cycled to work in, which weren’t really appropriate meeting attire). I drove his clothes to his office, which is 2.6 miles away, so of course took 50 minutes altogether. That was fine by me, but it certainly wasn’t what I’d planned to do, nor did it feel a very noble use of time. (The words, ‘That’s an hour of my life I’m not getting back’ did cross my mind.) Which is often the way with real life.
You know the story of the Good Samaritan? I expect so. (You can read the whole story here.) Here’s the bit where the Samaritan finds the Jew on the ground:
33 But a Samaritan came to the place where the man was. When he saw the man, he felt sorry for him. 34 He went to him, poured olive oil and wine on his wounds and bandaged them. Then he put the man on his own donkey. He brought him to an inn and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two silver coins. He gave them to the owner of the inn. ‘Take care of him,’ he said. ‘When I return, I will pay you back for any extra expense you may have.’ (Luke 10)
I wonder where the Samaritan was going? It’s not a true story so there’s no point wasting time wondering, but I expect he had somewhere to be, rather than just wandering aimlessly, making himself available for people who’d been mugged. And the other two blokes, the ones who ignored the man, they might have had really important stuff to be doing. Last minute Christmas shopping, that sort of thing.
But the Lord gives us opportunities to show mercy to people, and when we get those, we should be glad to take them. When I’m “inconvenienced” by someone else’s needs, I need to see that as the Lord’s plan for my day, and thank him for it. CS Lewis said this:
“The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one’s ‘own,’ or ‘real’ life. The truth is of course that what one calls the interruptions are precisely one’s real life — the life God is sending one day by day.”
The busier I am, the more in danger I am of feeling put out by ‘interruptions.’ What I need is to take a step back, get over myself and realise that God is sending me things to do, and sometimes they’re not on my list. And Christmas is a very busy time, so I’m more likely to be irritated by these ‘interruptions’ (i.e. more likely to resent God’s plan for my day) than usual. That’s not something I want to do.
So I’ll write my lists, but I’ll pray that God would overrule as he so wishes.
I could go on and on about this, flesh it out a bit, but it’s advent so I’m a bit busy and you get the picture I’m sure…
As always, please do leave a comment if you’d like to – click on the speech bubble at the top of the post.
You probably didn’t read this last year, and even if you did I hope it’s a helpful reminder. I know it’s still November, but I can already see the Freight Train of Christmas Chaos coming down the track…
“I like your Christmas shoes” my 3 yr old friend told me. I didn’t admit I’ve been wearing them all year.
You’re busy and I’m busy so let’s keep this brief. The older my children have become, the more my Christmas has turned into a stereotype. Here I am, rushing from Nativity Play to Candlelit Carol service, waking in the night and pondering recipe ideas, and wondering where to hide yet another bag of Christmas prezzies.
This week:
– I decided to try making canapés for the first time – ha ha! I’m neither a 70’s housewife nor a wedding caterer, but I thought it would be fun. It was.
– I also decided to make Christmas cookies for my hairdresser and his assistant, since a) their mums are in far away countries and b) I thought it might cut through some of the intimidation I feel every time I…
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It’s never to early to get happy about Jesus!
A lovely Kurdish friend of mine asked me a question today about our children’s Christmas performance, ‘Is it about Christmas, or is it religious?’
I think she put her finger on something, don’t you? Christmas has become (posh word alert) dichotomised: there’s the secular wintertide festival, and the ‘religious’ Christian celebration of Jesus’ birth. Sometimes there’s some overlap, although to be honest sometimes I’d rather keep them separate. Do we want reindeer in the stable, or shepherds in Santa’s grotto? Doesn’t that just confuse everyone?
Lots of Christians get upset about this. And actually, a lot of ‘church-goers’ or morally upstanding citizens (and apparently The Daily Mail) get upset about it too. And I agree with some of what they say. Santa does rob Jesus of his glory at Christmas, and that is bad. But when my friends who aren’t Christians don’t celebrate Jesus at Christmas, that doesn’t actually surprise…
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Several blog posts are in my mind at the moment, but haven’t made it onto the blog. That’s not much use to you, sorry. Hopefully after my daughter’s birthday party this Saturday there’ll be a post about that and other things coming your way.
In the meantime, I’d like to recommend this book to you: The One True Light by Tim Chester. It’s available here. I don’t have much time to tell you why it’s a good idea to get excited about Jesus this Christmas, but I will re-blog my post, Joy, from last year above this instead (or you can click on the link). We are so blessed to have resources like this book to help us focus on Christ, the one true gift who truly satisfies.
I’m starting these advent readings now, because I’m pretty hopeless at reading the Bible on my own once a day 7 days a week (gasp!), so I wanted to give myself a head start. I hope you find this or something similar a blessing to you this Christmas.
‘Have you talked to your children about boundaries so that they know how they should and shouldn’t be touched?’
I was chatting to a friend about when it’s right to talk to your child about s.e.x. We both agreed it’s probably good to introduce it earlier than you might think, because you don’t want them hearing about it from someone else in the “school playground.” Then she asked me the above question about boundaries.
Er… no. I’d never thought about that before. Cue panic!
To me, the idea of anyone touching my child in an inappropriate way is SO horrific that I dare not even think about it, never mind talk about it. But obviously, that’s not much use to my children. I’m so glad my friend raised this with me, but then I was left with the question of how to approach the topic with my children.
You can imagine how relieved I was, then, to discover this book: God Made All of Me by Justin and Lindsey Holcomb. The subtitle is ‘A Book to Help Children Protect Their Bodies,’ and that’s what it does. I read it to my (VERY sensitive) children, aged 5 and 4, and they weren’t in any way disturbed or upset by it but it definitely taught them some extremely valuable lessons.
The book is told through a family having a conversation about how precious our bodies are and that some parts are private and some are not, and some touches are appropriate and some are not, etc. There’s also an important bit about the difference between a surprise (fun) and a secret (not fun).
As I read this book, I found myself feeling quite traumatised at the thought of anyone trying to harm my child. It’s difficult to read as an adult because you have the background knowledge that some people do terrible things to children. But my children don’t really have any such knowledge or awareness, so for them it’s not a scary or upsetting book at all – and as I said, they are very sensitive children. Disney gives them nightmares.
The book also uses the foundation that God made our bodies, and that’s why they’re precious. This is always an important truth for our children to return to if they are ever unsure about how valuable they are.
The only downside of this book for me was that in the back it has a double page list of ‘Ways to Protect Your Children from Sexual Abuse,’ which is very helpful but not something I want either of my children to read. Which is why the book now lives on Mum and Dad’s bookshelf, not theirs. However, when you do read these pages you realise that the book covers this list in a clear and child-friendly way.
So I’m really thankful for this book, not least because it helped me to teach my children the right names for body parts. They were unimpressed. Even my four year old son, who would gladly talk about willies all day, when confronted with the word ‘penis’ said ‘Urgh!’
The link above tells you more about the book; I bought my copy from Ten of Those.
Here are some thoughts from Week 7 of my pregnancy – mid August – because we so quickly forget what it’s like!
They say when you’re pregnant, more blood has to pump around your body. Is it possible that I can feel that happening? I’m incredibly thirsty, inconceivably tired, and keep getting short of breath when I move.
This week I had seven friends round for a dinner party. Does it count as a dinner party if we ordered fish and chips? Of course not. We didn’t even foot the bill. When one friend left she said, ‘thank you for eating your fish and chips with us’ which was exactly what I’d done. (It was actually a great evening. I would highly recommend such measures when you want to see friends but are completely wiped!)
I keep forgetting things. The other day I texted my friend to tell her we’d eaten at our new breakfast bar (I know, I only text urgent news). Half an hour later she mentioned it and I asked her if she’d been watching us through the kitchen window. Rather a wild accusation! She said, ‘No… you told me.’ Embarrassing.
I keep crying. I was reading an email out to my family about a friend’s son recovering from surgery, and I burst into tears. Well that’s quite a reasonable response, if a little out of character. I also nearly cried when trying to decide if the aforementioned breakfast bar was big enough or not. Definitely not reasonable.
I keep wanting to eat spaghetti hoops from a tin (I found some at my mum’s today – wolfed them).
Why am I telling you all of this? Well, my body and mind are falling apart, which usually only means one thing: I’m pregnant.
But despite all of this evidence (as well as the positive pregnancy test – I’m not crazy), I still worry that maybe I don’t feel pregnant enough. I’m seven weeks, which feels like a long time but then it’s not really. I lost a baby later than this back in 2010. I’ve always thought it would be great to find out you’re pregnant at around 16 weeks, when you’re beyond the “danger zone” and can tell all your friends. But of course, that’s never happened to me. I always figure it out at around 4 or 5 weeks, and then can’t stop thinking about it until I take a test. Then you need to wait a good couple of months before you get to see the miraculous heartbeat on the screen, and explain to everyone why you’ve been behaving like a complete nincompoop with the energy of a 93 year old.
So that’s the stage I’m at now. I occasionally panic that the baby isn’t OK. I read about the harvesting of foetal body parts and consider the grave injustice of this world. Why do some people have to suffer childlessness and loss, while others who don’t want children are blessed with fertility? What a mess this world is in. And since this world is in such a mess, do I really want to bring another child into it? Well if I don’t, it’s too late now. But of course I do. I already desperately want this child to be healthy, and safe, and happy in the Lord.
And then other times – particularly between midnight and 7am – I panic at the thought of having another person determined to interrupt my sleep. Plus what if I don’t give enough attention to each of my children? And a hundred other concerns. So thus far pregnancy has taught me to pray, and trust in God’s oft-baffling but ever-true sovereignty.
Reading this now, early October, I’m thankful that even when my moods, senses, family size and body shape change, God never changes. The gospel is still true and God is still just and good, even when I’m eating spaghetti hoops out of a tin and crying at the news, when I forget I invited someone for lunch or I fall asleep on the sofa at 8.30pm.
Enough nonsense, here is some relevant truth from Walter C Smith:
Immortal, invisible, God only wise,
In light inaccessible hid from our eyes,
Most blessèd, most glorious, the Ancient of Days,
Almighty, victorious, Thy great name we praise.
Unresting, unhasting, and silent as light,
Nor wanting, nor wasting, Thou rulest in might;
Thy justice, like mountains, high soaring above
Thy clouds, which are fountains of goodness and love.
To all, life Thou givest, to both great and small;
In all life Thou livest, the true life of all;
We blossom and flourish as leaves on the tree,
And wither and perish—but naught changeth Thee.
I met someone last night who said all of her friends are having their first babies. In case you’re in the same boat, here are some thoughts for new mums, written a year ago for my lovely friend, Charlie:
Here is a letter to my lovely friend Charlie, who is about to give birth any day now. It’s a bit honest, but I hope you like it. It seems wonderfully appropriate, one year on from writing about my own struggles with my first newborn (Push, Push, Glide), to post this here.
Dear Charlie,
I’m sitting in a café (had free coffee voucher – bargain!) and a lady next to me has a teeeeeeny tiny baby! He is very cute and drunk on milk. Everyone is gazing at him. Mum is probably exhausted and wondering when the baby will next need feeding. I’ve found that there’s a big old difference between actual motherhood, and motherhood from the outside looking in.
You’re about to have your first baby! You know that already. I’d love to give you loads of advice and tips. I’m sure all of your mum-friends will…
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Some News from Chez Brooks. Written early August 2015.
We made a decision. We’d like to have another. And yes, I do mean another b.a.b.y.
But why? Am I one of those ‘baby’ people, who loves babies? That would be an emphatic “no.” While I love my children dearly and am truly grateful for them, I don’t enjoy being pregnant, giving birth(!), breastfeeding or waking through the night. And to be honest, I don’t even enjoy holding babies that much. They don’t do much, do they? I love the babies I know, but not because they’re babies. (This is, in many ways, a good thing. Babies don’t stay babies!)
I can’t explain it, but after much careful consideration we agreed that we would like four children, even though they will one day (God willing) become four teenagers, and we only have one teeny tiny bathroom (it’s almost double the width of the bath).
And it’s happened! Brooks baby number four is on his/her merry way. Still microscopic for now, but a person all the same. We haven’t told anyone yet, so do keep it to yourself. To be honest, I’m a bit nervous about sharing this joyous news with my largely unsuspecting friends and family.
When you’re pregnant with your first, people are so happy for you: how exciting! You’re going to be great parents! Praise God! Let’s pray right now about that!
The second baby is less of a surprise, usually, unless it’s eye-wateringly soon after the first, but people can see that you want a ‘proper family’ (I object to this term but people do say it), or that you want to ‘get it all out of the way at once’ (objection again!), or that you just want a little playmate for Jonny (let’s hope Jonny is on board).
In our culture, two children is normal. So when you announce number three is in the pipeline, as it were, people laugh a bit and say things like, ‘Wow, you’re going to need a bigger car.’ Which is true. (Actually for us it was more, ‘You’re going to need a car.’) People with three children in the UK are perceived as having a big family. The washing, the bunk beds, the car seats. Wow. But in my experience, people admire, or at least respect you.
But four children? Are you insane? You can’t have four children in a normal car. You will probably need to move. Goodness me, how will you even walk down the street? You can never go to a supermarket again. Wow, you must LOVE babies.
This is why, since having three children, people have often said to me, ‘I bet you’re finished now, aren’t you!’ or words to that effect. I always thought family planning was quite a private matter, but evidently I’m mistaken. I don’t mind a close friend asking gently if I’d like to have more children, but someone I’m not close to announcing, in front of my children, that I won’t be having any more, is just inappropriate. Being English, I generally smile politely and change the subject, as I wouldn’t want to offend them by telling them it’s none of their flaming business.
A mother-of-two once said to me with absolute conviction that it was totally unfair to have more than two children, because you wouldn’t give them enough attention. But this opinion is so culturally bound. By the end of the 20th Century, women in London were having on average half the number of babies compared to those at the start of the century. In many cultures – and, by the way, in God’s word! – children are seen as a huge blessing and wealth. Your children are your inheritance, as they’ll look after you when you’re old. (As someone said to me last week, in some parts of the world we’d just be getting started.) But now that we have (free) birth control in the UK, people with lots of children can be seen as a drain on society and a nuisance. Hasn’t she heard of the Pill? (or, ‘tie a knot in it’ as I heard someone recently put it.)
When I was in hospital with my first newborn the post-natal ward was, to use the medical term, rammed. I mentioned this to a nurse at one point, who said, ‘It’s the Muslims. They’ve got an agenda, to populate the world.’ I was a bit too drugged up and sleep-deprived to have the suitable reaction (reporting her to some Body or other), so I just mumbled something in defence of Muslims and tried to change the subject. But this is just another example of how large families are viewed. They’re unruly; a threat to the status quo.
So now, instead of phoning round my friends and family with the happy news of a baby on the way, I’m wondering how to break it to everyone. Family holidays with relatives are going to be even more chaotic, with even less chance of a good nights’ sleep. I’ll be less available to other people as my family’s needs grow. My church family will need to help me even more! And will I ever go back into teaching, for crying out loud?
Well, if motherhood has taught me anything (besides the exact words to many a Julia Donaldson chronicle), it’s to care less and less what other people (especially strangers) think of me. Since getting pregnant the first time, I’ve been judged so much that I now just assume that people are horrified by whatever it is I’m doing. Even with three children who are clearly alive and rather stable, people still assume I haven’t got a clue what I’m doing: your child doesn’t look safe on that wall/is far too hot/has cold hands/hasn’t had her hair brushed (that I’ll give them)/is being ignored (yes, that’s because he’s screaming for Haribo). Or even if you’re not doing anything wrong, your child is probably just being a nuisance by his/her very existence. So I’m learning the healthy lesson of not-being-self-conscious. Or something more succinct. I’ll keep praying, asking for advice from wise people, and doing what I think is obedient. The Lord knows I’m making (sometimes slow/sometimes moderate) progress!
So for now, I’m happy to keep it just between Mike and myself, because we’re really chuffed to bits about this little tike. And if the news is met with mixed responses, hopefully I can thank the Lord that he’s making me less and less affected by the judgments of others. Although with pregnancy hormones thrown into the mix, that may work better in theory than practice.
Please feel welcome to comment below – I’d love to read your thoughts!
If you are wondering whether or not to have another baby, you may find this article useful. (I only found it today, but would have found it useful six months ago!)
Reading this a couple of months on, I’d just like to add three comments of my own!
Mum in Zone One 