Mum in Zone One

His Story

Do you know there’s a Samson in Thomas and Friends? He’s very strong. I was explaining to my daughter that he’s named after the strong man, Samson, in the Bible. She asked me if the Thomas people love Jesus. I said I don’t know but lots of people have heard of Samson.

Biblical names are really in now, aren’t they? I enjoy telling people who my children are named after in the Bible, because so many of the Biblical characters are fascinating. I mean, Zacchaeus – he climbed a sycamore tree, for crying out loud!

I’ve just started reading through a couple of chapters of Luke’s gospel each day. It’s just mind-blowing. And the characters (when I say characters I don’t mean they’re fictional, of course) are so diverse and intriguing. It’s easy to get a bit distracted by them, really. For example, Anna:

There was also a prophet, Anna, the daughter of Penuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was very old; she had lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, and then was a widow until she was eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped night and day, fasting and praying. Coming up to them at that very moment, she gave thanks to God and spoke about the child to all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem. Luke 2:36-38

I couldn’t help but stopping to sympathise with this godly woman. She must have been a widow for nearly sixty years or so. And she’d been waiting all her life for the saviour to come. Imagine meeting her in heaven! She’s definitely someone I’d like to have a cup of tea with.

In the first two chapters of Luke alone we meet Mary, Joseph, Elizabeth, Zechariah, the shepherds, Simeon and Anna: all of whom could have written bestselling autobiographies without a doubt, purely for the part they played in this gospel story. What strikes me about them all, though, is that they know that this story isn’t about them. It’s about Jesus. Yes, their lives matter, of course they do. Why else would we be given the details about them? But it’s not their story; it’s God’s story about his Son, Jesus.

We think the world is all about us. The media tells us to indulge ourselves, and look after ourselves, and to follow our own dreams. And as parents, we’re told to invest everything we can into making sure our children reach their potential; unleash their gifts; reach for the stars. This is quite a lot of pressure to be under!

Sometimes Christian teaching and encouragements are all about us too. Although disguised in Christian language, they’re actually messages about how wonderful we are and that we’re going to make such a difference that people will remember us for years to come.

No they won’t.

Or at least, it’s unlikely. My pastor often says, ‘who can tell me the names of their great-grandparents?’ If you can’t remember, who will?

We’re like grass. Our lives are a mist.

This isn’t our story. It’s the Lord’s story. And praise God! We get to be characters in it. The characters in Luke I’ve mentioned will forever be defined according to the role they played in the coming of the Messiah. As Mary said:

From now on all generations will call me blessed,
for the Mighty One has done great things for me –
holy is his name. Luke 1:48

I personally wasn’t there when Jesus was born, but I’m thankful that I get to be used by the Lord in whatever way he wants. My life does matter, because the things I do now will be remembered by Him, and will have consequences in eternity.

But I want to teach my children that if their life is a fairy tale, they’re not the main characters. They’re on the periphery, while King Jesus takes the spotlight. And ironically, when we try to play the starring role we’ll always feel frustrated. Like if planet earth tried to be the centre of the universe. Once we find our correct position in the story, the part that was written just for us, then we’ll find true satisfaction, and be truly thankful that we have a role to play.

When the Going Gets Tough…

“How can I bring a child into a world like this? How can a person grow up with all this around them?”
This is a line from the film Se7en, which if you’re as old as me you’ll remember all too well (and never quite get over).

Sometimes it can seem a strange decision to bring children into a world that’s so dangerous and full of suffering. It’s something a lot of parents worry about. The world’s in a mess – why would we want to inflict it on our loved ones? And if we do want to, should we? Is it selfish?

Older people are always harking back to the good old days when you could leave your pram outside a shop and your kids could play out after dark without any fear (I don’t buy any of this, incidentally but I won’t get into that).

But what really concerns me and gives me a knot in my stomach is the thought that my children are growing up in an increasingly secular, anti-Christian country. Our laws are changing, and they’re moving away from the Christian foundations that many of them were formed upon in the past.

And in the name of “tolerance” our freedom to speak about and express our beliefs is slowly being stolen from us, and we seem mostly powerless to stop it. Will my children lose their jobs or even go to prison for being Christians when they’re older? I don’t know, but that thought scares me.

So what should I do about it? Maybe tone down the Jesus stuff in the hope that they will keep their heads down and not really mention him to anyone? Or maybe we should move to another country where they would be free to live out their faith in safety. That’s a bit drastic, maybe we should just surround them with other Christians at all times, so they don’t suffer any conflict. All of these things – and other ways of either running or hiding – can seem appealing at times.

Last Sunday we looked at Psalm 11, in which one of King David’s allies was advising him to run and hide because their nation had, too, turned from God’s word:

“Flee like a bird to your mountain
For look, the wicked bend their bows;
They set their arrows against the strings
To shoot from the shadows
At the upright in heart.
When the foundations are being destroyed,
What can the righteous do?”

In other words, there’s nothing left to do but leg it. There’s no hope for us, when the world around us has turned it’s back on God’s word.

But David’s response is quite simple: he trusts in the Lord. He knows that the Lord sees what ‘the wicked’ are doing (whether they’re in the shadows or not), and that the Lord is in charge – he’s ‘on his heavenly throne.’ Nothing gets passed him. So when the world seems out of control, actually it isn’t. The Lord still reigns.

In Britain today, children are extremely safe. The rules on child protection and health and safety are stricter than they’ve ever been. We are extraordinarily well cared for medically. Whatever you’ve heard about the NHS (if you’re not British), it’s amazing. Ask anyone who has a chronic illness or has had a brain tumour removed. Our government is stable, and our police are relatively uncorrupt (is that even a word?). All of these things are huge blessings to us, but the trouble is that we start to trust in those things instead of in the Lord.

The British justice system is not my refuge – the Lord is. So when the former turns against me, I will not fall to pieces. The Lord sustains us, so if we lose access to medical care we will continue to trust him. We’ve become so comfortable with life that we can forget who really provides for us, and that we’re really living for another home.

Of course it’s upsetting when we see injustice and we see the world turning further and further from God’s way. That should upset us – it’s a God-given emotion:

‘For the LORD is righteous,
he loves justice;
upright men will see his face.’

This is SUCH an encouragement to me. Yahweh loves justice. So if my children – or the people I see on the news – suffer injustice, then the Lord will sort that out one day. He really does care what’s happening to people, much more than we do. And if my children keep trusting him, they will see his face. And it will all have been worth it.

So when I’m worried about how Christians might be treated in twenty or forty year’s time, I can thank God that he is still in control, that he sees what people are doing, and that soon he’ll put everything right. This is what I can teach my children, because unlike our country’s laws, it’s a truth that will never change.

If you’re still not sure, look at Jesus. In Gethsemane, wicked men hid in the ‘shadows’ to arrest him, although he was innocent. He didn’t ‘flee’, but all of his friends did. And when has there ever been a clearer picture of ‘the foundations being destroyed’ than when God’s king hung dying on the cross? And yet: since that tomb was found empty, every believer can know for sure that one day they ‘will see his face.’

With special thanks to Robin Silson, who so clearly explained this psalm to us last week.

More than Sparrows

Following the ongoing horror stories about Syrian refugees, this post seems appropriate to share again:

Mum in Zone One

You may not want to hear any more about the crisis in Iraq, but I just feel I can’t not write something about it. It’s been buzzing around my head and thrumming on my heart, keeping me awake at night and causing me to question so many things. The only thing that could have stopped me writing about it is the fact that I’m not sure how to articulate any of those feelings, especially in a useful or encouraging way. So this won’t be neat – how could it be? I don’t have all the answers – I’m not sure I even have any.

Since becoming a mother I am definitely more sensitive to hearing about people suffering. I don’t know why, I think maybe I now have more of a sense of how precious life is. But when I hear about mass killings and horrors worse than death –…

View original post 630 more words

Against All Odds

I was once the worst kind of lost. I was lost, but I didn’t know I was lost. I was self-righteous. What I mean by that is, I thought I was good enough by myself, and I was pleased with myself. I wasn’t awful or arrogant by most standards, no I was a kind and loyal friend and lots of other nice things. But when I think about where I was with God, I feel I couldn’t have been further away. These words from Sovereign Grace, to me, sum up exactly what I was like:

I once was lost in darkest night
Yet thought I knew the way
The sin that promised joy and life
Had led me to the grave
I had no hope that you would own
A rebel to your will
And if you had not loved me first
I would refuse you still.

The longer I am a Christian, the more I see how lost and hopeless I was. And the more I am amazed, utterly astonished, that against all odds, the Lord dragged me out of the pit of my own making and made me his child. Such grace! ‘Tis mercy all, immense and free, for Oh my God it found out me!’ (Charles Wesley)

In the Gospels, when Jesus met people like me, such as the Pharisees, he told them over and over again that they were the worst kind of lost (I’m paraphrasing). If you think about the parable of the Lost Sons, the Pharisees are the older brother who stays in the Father’s house, ‘slaving away’, despising the Father and feeling he’s earning his place in the family. But of course, he is the real lost son at the end. He’s outside the party, having a hissy fit because he hates grace.

I know this. So why do I want my children to be older brother types? Well, because they’re easier to look after aren’t they? Imagine the community who knew that family in the parable. Which son would they side with? You can imagine the talk in the fields:
‘Eee, the poor Master. Big Billy is such a good lad, but that little Lennie has been no end of trouble. I bet he’s glad they’re not both like that.’

I want my children to be well-behaved and keep their heads down, because that will make my life easier. It will also be much less humiliating for me. If my children are the worst behaved in the nursery (if, e.g. they are biters), or the worst behaved in church (e.g. climbing on the stage and the organ in the middle of the prayers) then what kind of a parent am I being? Hardly a model Christian mum. (I wasn’t making those examples up, obv.)

My 5-year-old daughter is an older brother type. She HATES to break the rules, or (worse still) have anyone think she’s broken them. It will literally keep her awake at night. Phew, right?

Ezra, aged 4, on the other hand, doesn’t care an inch about the rules. He can be told off over and over again and keep doing the same thing, it’s no skin off his nose. He is funny though, and very handsome – so far this has got him through life unscathed. I adore him, of course, but he breaks my heart with his disobedience. Every day I have to get up and try again to teach him what I taught him yesterday: please obey mummy and daddy.

If I’m honest, deep down I really worry that Ezra is not behaving like a Christian, while I feel a bit like Miriam is probably fine because she’s a good girl.

But have I not been listening to God all these years? It’s the rebels who come back to the Father, covered in muck, asking for forgiveness. It was Zacchaeus the tax collector who surrendered everything to Jesus when he encountered grace. It was the “sinful woman” who poured out her life’s savings on Jesus’ feet out of gratitude. Yes, the Lord does save older brother types too, like Saul, and me, but I think the Bible does warn us that the Older Brothers are in grave danger.

Note to self: I need to keep relying on God’s grace to save my kids, not on their own abilities to follow orders and stick to the rules. Grace comes first, then obedience.

At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. Titus 3: 3-5

Please read Timothy Keller’s The Prodigal God. It’s simply brilliant.

Book Review: The Storm That Stopped (Alison Mitchell & Catalina Echeverri)

I’m hoping that a “normal” blog post will emerge soon, but in the meantime, here is a book review. It’s the school holidays, people!

I’d like to recommend a children’s book to you (spoiler alert): ‘The Storm that Stopped’

On a recent church weekend away, I took my two older children (aged 5 and 4) to a storytelling and book signing session in the “Book Café” (tent) with Alison Mitchell and Catalina Echeverri. It was actually the highlight of my weekend.

The children were mesmerised as Catalina read the enchanting The One O’Clock Miracle. Not only is it beautifully written and illustrated, but it’s such a moving true story!

So I was excited to read ‘The Storm that Stopped’ to my children when it arrived in the post today. It didn’t disappoint.

They (The Good Book Co.) aim to make an excellent picture book, and they’ve certainly achieved that. It’s quite long, building up the suspense, so contains page after page of illustrations which really capture a child’s imagination. It begins by explaining the context of the miracle, and as far as I can see it sticks closely to the Bible text. It also comes to a spot-on conclusion at the end: the whole reason Jesus did the miracle. (Sometimes children’s Christian books turn everything into a lesson in morality, don’t they? Sigh.)

The highlight of the book for me: when we got to the point in the story that read, ‘Jesus simply spoke…’ my 5 year old daughter, Miriam, said, “That’s what it says in the other book: ‘Jesus. Simply. Spoke’.”

If these books are only teaching my children that Jesus’ words have mighty power, then thanks be to God! You can find the book here at the Good Book Co.

To read this AMAZING story in the Bible, check it out here – it will take 20 seconds (plus pondering time, which could be eternal).

The Power of “Goodbye”

What’s the hardest thing about raising young children in the city?

I wonder what you think. The traffic, the rent, cramped living, the lack of grass? The noisy neighbours, the hit-and-miss schools, the on-street (and not even your own street) parking? How about the hours spent commuting, or the polluted air, or the lack of like-minded Christian families? These are all relevant – some more than others. (Grass is overrated, friends. Heaven is a garden CITY.)

For me, not one of these things is the hardest thing about raising my children in the city. The hardest thing is this: people leave. I’m trying to nurture a stable family in a transient city, which feels a bit like trying to make friends in the middle of Kings Cross station. Some people do stop, they say hello, they might even invest a little. But then they have to rush – they have a train to catch.

People leave for good reasons. They take the gospel to undesirable places, or their job moves them, or they go to Bible college, or they move nearer to sick parents. (Some people don’t leave for good reasons, by the way, but I’m not here to judge.) And I can cope with that – ish. I miss them, and I cry when they leave, but I can see the bigger picture. The West Country needs youth workers: I get it.

But it’s harder for children to see the bigger picture. My daughter doesn’t even know how long an hour is; my son doesn’t quite know the difference between London and Longnewton (my parents’ village). So how are they meant to understand that it’s actually a good thing that we’re waving goodbye (yet again) to another precious friend, because they’re meeting a need somewhere in South East Asia? My heart aches in a way it never used to before I had children, because I don’t like to see them sad. It’s as simple as that.

It’s not just church family members, either. It’s the teachers, the support staff, and the classmates. They can be here one day, and gone the next. And each time this happens, I feel like my child’s foundations are crumbling away, bit by bit.

But I need to learn some things. I spent last night and this morning in tears about this issue, by the way, so please don’t assume I have this figured out!

The more people leave us, the more we rely on the Lord. He’s my rock and my foundation. He will never leave me. Time and again the Lord reminds his people of this fact: ‘I will never leave you or forsake you.’* Sweet, sweet words. (This is what I told my daughter the day her nursery teacher was dismissed without notice.) And of course, Jesus himself comforted his disciples with these words: ‘And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.’ (Matt 28:20). When friends leave, we’re forced to lean more on the One who never does. So if our weak foundations do crumble, by God’s grace they can be replaced by the true Rock.

When people leave to serve in God’s Kingdom elsewhere, it does help the children to have a more global perspective. This is hard for them, but it is possible. We’ve found that showing them maps and praying for people in other countries has helped them with this. And, similarly, they are learning that we all suffer for the advance of the gospel – those who go, and those who stay behind. These are hard but character-building lessons to learn, and I pray that by learning them my children will be blessed, and will be a blessing to the Kingdom as they grow up.

Also, waving goodbye to people makes us long for Jesus to return soon. I can tell my children that in the new creation, in the garden city, there’ll be no more goodbyes. There’ll be no unreached people groups, no sick relatives, no war zones, no more tears. It would be nice if my church family could be together forever, and that nobody would have to leave, but then we wouldn’t look forward to heaven enough. And one day, we will be with our brothers and sisters for eternity. In the words of that great Australian theologian of our time, Colin Buchanan: ‘Hooley Dooley Wop Bam Boom! Jesus Christ is coming soon.’ Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.

Let me know if you have any thoughts on this. Click on the speech bubble, top right.

*Deut 31:6-8; Joshua 1:5; 1 Kings 8: 57.

Enjoy yourself (Just not in the same way you used to before)!

I used to look forward to, and enjoy, weekends away with church. Now I brace myself for them, and often feel I’m the worst version of ‘me’ when I’m there. Sad, I know. But I believe that through prayer and practical wisdom this, the “time away with church family, with a family,” can be conquered!

I’m going away today, so I thought I’d offer some tips on how to get through, I mean enjoy, your time away (it’s more fun than packing). I’m in no way the expert, but I thought I’d share what I’ve come up with thus far – you’ll see I’m learning from my mistakes.

Things NOT to expect:

Sleep – Time and again I make the mistake of arriving on a conference/camp/ weekend away already tired, and hoping for some rest. Go on, point and laugh, I deserve it. You won’t get much sleep. Things will prevent you from sleeping: probably your children. But while you can do everything in your power to encourage your children to have a good night’s sleep (blackouts, familiar bedding, nightlight etc.), there are always things you can’t control. Even if your children sleep wonderfully, you are still likely to be woken up by something else, e.g. someone else’s child; a fire alarm; a 5am delivery van; a 3am Pentecostal prayer gathering (this has been my experience, anyway).

Catching up with good friends – this is unlikely, because you will be busy with your brood and also there may be other people who need you more. You don’t want to end up resenting your children or anyone else who gets in the way of your nice long chat with so-and-so. Maybe think of this as an opportunity to arrange to meet up with that friend in the next couple of weeks! Then, if you do end up having a good chat: bonus!

Taking part in everything that’s going on – it might be the teaching you look forward to, or the social aspect, or praying together. But it’s likely you’ll miss out on something you’d really like to have been at. You might get trapped in your room with a clingy baby and no phone signal to beckon help, while everyone else is having a whale of a time doing “organised fun.” You might miss all of the talks because your 3-year-old is terrified of the unfamiliar surroundings, or you might have to take someone to A&E. Hopefully none of these will happen, but I’m just saying it’s good to be emotionally prepared to miss out.

Things to DO:

Be thankful. Sorry everything above is so negative. I think that if we “manage our expectations” (fancy phrase) then we’re more likely to be thankful for any fun/teaching/sleeping/encouragements that we do receive. I need to remember to be thankful, because I just won’t be otherwise. I’m like that, me.

Forget yourself. I find that at these intense, emotionally draining times I get too focused on my own “problems” (e.g. lack of sleep/missed the seminar), which is just a recipe for disaster. If I try to focus on making sure other people are OK, I’ll actually start to forget what I was so narked off about in the first place. Get over yourself, Catherine (or, you know, something less harsh).

Research – if you haven’t been to the venue before, try to find out what you need to take with you from someone who has been or from the venue itself. You don’t want to arrive and realise you were meant to bring bedding. Almost equally you don’t want to stuff five duvets into your boot (trunk) and then discover you didn’t need them. Especially if you don’t have a driveway, so loading the car is tricky, and you bought the duvets especially. Just saying.

I’ve now noticed that (maybe apart from the final one) these are quite good tips for life in general. Maybe that’s because time away with church is really just a more intense version of normal life. And I need to remember, too, what an AMAZING privilege it is to have the resources, the community, and the freedom to be able to do this. Would my North Korean sister be grumbling about missing the Saturday night karaoke if she were here? No, I’m pretty sure she’d think she’d died and gone to heaven.

Have a good weekend, folks!

Heaven Forbid

“What better way is there to celebrate my son’s 4th birthday than to write a blog post about the objectification of women in a post-feminist society?” I thought. It’s the cry of every mother’s heart, naturally! Happy Birthday, Ezra.

I grew up to the sound of The Backstreet Boys singing “As long as you love me.” Even Brit Pop bad boys like Jarvis Cocker were singing about their childhood sweethearts “I used to walk you home sometimes but it meant nothing to you.”

Let’s not be naïve. Our children live in a different world. We thought Sisqo’s Thong Song was controversial in the ‘90’s. The women from that video will be turning their blushing faces away from the Blurred Lines video now.

I have two very young sons. Here is a conversation I do not want to have with either of them in a few years’ time.

Mum, I want to be a CEO when I’m older.
Well I’m sure you can be whatever you want to be, darling.
Yeah I want to be rich, because when you’re rich you can do what you like.
That’s not true!
But Mum, the girls at school all love Christian Grey and he gets to do loads of horrible stuff to girls because he’s rich.
No, even if you’re rich you must still respect women. That film is unrealistic and immoral.
Oh. But the kids at school don’t seem to think that. Are you sure?
Yes I’m sure. Mistreating women is wrong, it’s not godly and besides it can get you into lots of trouble too.
OK but what about if I become a footballer? Then can I do what I want?
No! Of course not! Why would you think that?
Because my mate said that his team’s top goal-scorer once raped someone and now he earns loads of money playing football.
Well, that’s true but he went to prison for that. Rape is a terrible crime.
But now everyone loves him and he gets paid loads of money. And he said he did nothing wrong.
Well, yes that’s true but rape is still really, truly terrible. Why would you want to use women like that? Women are precious.
But sometimes women ask for it, don’t they? That’s what songs on Youtube say. Maybe I’ll become a musician because they get lots of sexy girls to dance with them and do whatever they want.
No, that’s not always true and that’s not a good reason to become a musician.. Also, there’s a lot more to women than how they look.
Is there?
Of course! How can you not know that?
Well the girls on TV and on the sides of buses and bus stops and the big pictures of girls in the shops, they all look amazing. Isn’t that why they’re in the pictures?
Yes they do but those pictures are changed to make those women look better.
Because they need to look amazing?
Well, no, they don’t need to but I suppose advertisers think it’s better if they do.
So what else is there about women? I don’t want to marry an angry, ugly woman who complains about everything. I want to marry a gorgeous woman who wears what looks good and does what I want and who’d do anything for me.
No, no, no. When you find the right woman for you, you treat her with respect, you love her and when the time is right you ask her to marry you and commit to her for better, for worse, for the rest of you lives.
Oh yeah, put a ring on it you mean?
No, not “on it”, you ask her to do you the honour of marrying you. Women are not objects!
OK Mum, I think times have changed since you were young. We’ve progressed.

This is obviously a caricature. But is it so unlikely? Which voices are shouting the loudest to my sons? As a child in the 80s and a 90s teen, the messages I was bombarded with about gender and sexuality were far from ideal, but I was at least taught that women should be respected and valued. The same cannot be said about my own children, growing up today.

I want to make sure I’m teaching my boys God’s view of women today so that in five or ten years’ time we are not having this conversation.

Let’s not assume our children will see that women are valuable by what they learn from films, songs, books, department stores, computer games or even their female peers.

Let’s get talking to our children now, helping them to process what they’re inevitably seeing and learning from the world around them. Don’t be coy, you can’t afford to be.

Happy?

Matthieu Ricard has been dubbed ‘the happiest man in the world.’ I heard him this morning on the Chris Evans Breakfast Show. He’s written a couple of books, and of course people buy them. We all want happiness, don’t we? Here’s a quote from Ricard:

“May every moment of my life and of the lives of others be one of wisdom, flourishing and inner peace!”

I expect we can all mumble an “Amen” to that! And if we’re parents, our priority might have changed from our own happiness to the happiness of our children. After all, what could make me happier than my child’s happiness?

I don’t know about you, but I think all of this happiness talk makes us Christians a bit nervous. Life isn’t about making myself happy: it’s about serving the Lord. And thus begins the dilemma: Do I make my child’s happiness, or his godliness, the priority? I feel sure it’s his godliness, but that goes against my maternal instinct. After all, doesn’t loving them mean doing my best to make them happy?

But what is happiness, anyway?

This week I heard a sermon on happiness. No offence to Matthieu Ricard, but given the choice I think I’ll listen to Scripture on the topic before I read his book.*

“Blessed is the one
who does not walk in step with the wicked
or stand in the way that sinners take
or sit in the company of mockers,
but whose delight is in the law of the Lord
and who meditates on his law day and night.
That person is like a tree planted by streams of water
which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither.
Whatever they do prospers.’ (Psalm 1:1-3)

Blessed means happy, but not in a clap your hands, superficial way. This is a deep-seated, contented happiness, like finally finding what you were designed for and doing just that, every single day.

Sometimes it feels like being a Christian mum is defined by saying ‘No’ to lots of things that the crowd says ‘yes’ to. ‘No’ to watching certain films, playing football on a Sunday, blaspheming, avoiding unpopular people (we invite them for lunch), maybe going on amazing holidays because we’ll be on a Christian camp etc. Some of these things are different for different families, but you know what I mean. I find it interesting that Psalm 1, verse 1, the beginning of the whole book of Psalms, is about the negative – what the blessed one does not do. Sometimes we will be defined by what we don’t do, and according to Psalm 1, that’s OK.

But we have an alternative (v2) – the law of the Lord. Our children get the privilege of listening to brilliant Christian songs (as well as, you know, Queen and Coldplay), they get to learn about Jesus and spend time with church family on a Sunday, they learn memory verses, they’re learning to live out Jesus’ teaching, they’re delighting in God’s word. And God’s word bears fruit. When people notice that my child is kind, or grateful, or gracious, or patient, I know that the Lord is to thank for that. It’s certainly not genetic.

I found out on Sunday, but had never noticed before (despite meditating on this Psalm for years – just shows how dull I am), is that (v3) the tree is planted by streams of water. Someone (the Lord) has deliberately planted the ‘happy person’ in the best place possible. They have plenty to drink, so that they can flourish and prosper.

So as a mum, while I’m bringing my children to ‘the law of the Lord,’ I am planting them (or allowing them to be planted) by streams of water. I’m making them lie down in green pasture. I’m giving them living water to drink. I’m giving them happiness.

This sounds very impressive, but it relies completely on the Lord. He’s the one who blesses, but I can bring my children to him.

And it sounds impressive, but of course it doesn’t look it. It looks like ‘family devotion’ which i.e. trying to explain one bible verse to a 4 year old while the baby screams and throws fromage frais across the room.

Or it looks like standing your ground while your child has a tantrum over trainers you won’t buy them to please the crowd.**

Or it might look like living somewhere a bit grotty without even a balcony while all of your peers have bought detached houses in the country.**

But Psalm 1 says it is impressive. While magazine articles tell me that happiness is private school, ballet camp, designer clothes and drama classes, God’s word tells me that happiness comes through delighting in the law of the Lord. And it makes sense, because all of those other things will fade, but God’s kingdom will last forever.

With special thanks to Andy Mason for his talk on Psalm 1. My blog mostly consists of me listening carefully to what Andy says, writing it down and chucking in some illustrations about kids and mess.

*Several other things (involving cats ice skating in hot places) will happen before I read it too. I’m a busy woman.

** Of course, Christians can live in big houses and wear expensive trainers. I’m more thinking about the principles of living for the Lord and not for this world.

Asked and Answered

I’ve been watching The Good Wife – sorry to disappoint. If you’re blissfully ignorant, it’s a glamorous drama set in a Chicago law firm in which impossibly attractive people betray each other.

There’s a phrase that comes up a lot in the courtroom scenes: “Asked and answered.” It’s an objection which the lawyers use if their opposition is trying to emphasise a point by asking a question that’s already been answered, like this:

Lawyer 1:       “Who was with you in the car?”
Witness:         “The accused.”
Lawyer 1:       “So the accused was with you in the car?”

Lawyer 2: “Objection, Your Honour! Asked and answered.”
Judge: “Sustained.”

I said to Mike the other day that this “Asked and answered” objection is a phrase I’d quite like to use about a dozen times a day with my 5-year-old daughter. Conversations with her tend to go like this:

“When are we going to Grandma’s?”
“Friday.”
“Pardon?”
“Friday.”
“Friday?”
“Yes.”
“So, tomorrow’s Thursday, then we’re going the next day?”
“Yes.”
“I thought we were going tomorrow.”
….
“Mummy? Mummy? I thought we were going tomorrow! Aren’t we going tomorrow?”
“Miriam, we are going on FRIDAY!”
“Why?”

Of course, while this is going on I’m trying to negotiate a number of other things, such as London traffic, or a toddler tantrum, or packing for said trip to Grandma’s. Needless to say, I need more patience with these conversations. Lord, change me please.

So while I’ve been wondering why (oh why) Miriam behaves like this, one thought struck me (again). I’m probably like that, too. When I think about questions I ask my Heavenly Father, they’re usually questions he’s already answered. Don’t get me wrong, I know that He is infinitely more patient with me than I am with my daughter, but still it’s taught me a lesson that often I’m wasting time and worry on questions that don’t need to be asked.

Do you remember the story of Gideon? It’s in Judges 6 and 7. In some ways it’s quite a funny story – “The LORD is with you, mighty warrior” said to a terrified wimp who’s threshing wheat in a hole*. But Gideon himself is very frustrating. An angel appears and tells him the LORD is with him, but he still questions this very fact five separate times (v13;15;17;36;39). And of course, I must be no better than Gideon, I’m sure.

When I’m worrying about this and that, I really need to just go back to the fact that the Lord loves me, and he loves my family, and he loves my friends. So I can trust him. Instead of flailing around, asking him questions he’s already answered, I can go back to his promises and meditate on them instead:

“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8.

In my heart I often doubt that the Lord will provide for us, even though he’s clearly said in his word that he will (Matthew 6:25-34), and proven it by the way he’s always behaved:

“What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all – how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” Romans 8:31-32.

Related posts: (More Then Sparrows; The Bigger Gingerbread Man)

As always, I would love to read your comments so please click on the speech bubble in the top right hand corner if you’d like to chip in.

*You need the wind to blow away the chaff when you’re threshing wheat, so this is a bit like flying a kite in a hole, but more silly.