Mum in Zone One

Shrinking the Slagheap

I am excellent at feeling sorry for myself. I don’t need any help from anyone. I usually pile up any sympathy I’m given onto the wallowing-in-self-pity slagheap I have in my heart. My husband is good at pointing this out to me, thank the Lord. But even so, I am quite the martyr-complex extraordinaire. So if you’re anything like me, you might not enjoy what you’re about to read.

We had a ‘staycation’ recently. This is when you have a holiday at home, doing all the fun things you never usually get round to doing (aka ‘Kids, we can’t afford to go away, but there’s a nice park nearby we can go to….’). Thankfully we live in London, so there genuinely were lots of things to do. One day we went to see the Cutty Sark, which is an old British Tea Clipper (that’s a ship, folks) which has been restored so that you can visit it. Just a quick plug here: it’s actually brilliant. Please pay the ticket price and go aboard. Don’t just walk past and think you’ve seen it, that’s just silly. It’s non-profit, if that makes a difference to you.

Now of all the things to do in London, the Cutty Sark is not the most obvious choice if you’ve got three under-fives in tow. But the reason we went to see it is that my husband, Mr Clever, was one of the people who worked very hard for a long time restoring it and even, wonder of wonders, lifting it up into the air so that you can stand underneath it – behold:

So naturally, he wanted to show it to us. He didn’t get to give me the detailed tour he’d have liked to because of the aforementioned under-fives (who, incidentally, had a fantastic time), but it was lovely to see the results of his (and others’) hard work. One thing he enjoys about his job as a structural engineer is that when a project is finished, there’s something material and concrete (often in every sense) to look at and think, ‘I did that.’ Not out of pride, but just to have something to show for the toil. Even now he can’t refer to the ship as an ‘it,’ only a ‘she.’ This was his baby.

But as we were walking around and he was briefly explaining how they’d calculated the structural capacity of each bolt in the original iron frame, I realised something a bit sad. Even the people who love visiting the Cutty Sark will never really know how much work went into restoring it. The hours of calculating loads, of grappling over the budget vs. the integrity of the restoration, and the worrying about whether lifting the boat would really work (it’d never been done before, people!).

That’s life, isn’t it? In a fallen world, I doubt there is any job in which you always receive 100% satisfaction and appreciation for the work you put in:

‘Cursed is the ground because of you;
through painful toil you will eat food from it
all the days of your life…
By the sweat of your brow
you will eat your food
until you return to the ground…’ (Genesis 3: 17;19)

Some days, and some jobs, are worse than others in this respect. Sometimes you have nothing at all to show for a day’s work. Sometimes you don’t see the fruit of your labour in this life. And I think one reason we, as parents, often get sympathy (for which I’m thankful!), is that the sweat-of-your-brow element of parenting is pretty tough, and the results are hard to measure. Would my daughter look any different if I’d been a lazy, selfish mother these past four years? Maybe not at first glance. But really I know that, because of the efforts I’ve made, my children are different than they could have been. And God-willing, one day they will be all grown up and might even thank me! And if not them, then I know the Lord is watching me:

‘Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.’ Colossians 3:24.

This is true for all of us. We shouldn’t expect ultimate reward for our work in this life, but instead we’re waiting for our inheritance from the Lord.

So the next time I’m cleaning poo off the carpet, or enduring another tantrum, or getting up at 3am again, I can remember that one day God will acknowledge what I’ve done – and also that frustrations in work are not just the lot of the mum. My husband has them at the office too. He may be able to see the Cutty Sark in its glory, but people don’t see his sweat and tears in the wrought iron frame, and he even has to pay to get in (outrageous)!

ANYTHING but that

We just borrowed a book from the library (how good is the library?), Me and My Nan by Amana Rainger and Simone Abel. I’ve written the entire book below as a poem:

Nan came to meet me to take her to her flat.
I ran on to the bus stop. Nan said, “Don’t do that!”
We went to the shops, and Nan stopped for a chat.
I hid round the corner. Nan said, “Don’t do that!”
We walked by the river and I shouted, “There’s a rat!”
I thought it was funny. Nan said, “Don’t do that!”
I knocked on the front door with a rat-a-tat-tat!
Nan dropped all the shopping. She said, “Don’t do that!”
We had ham for tea, but I don’t like the fat.
So I hid it in the plant pot. Nan said, “Don’t do that!”
I dropped the ketchup. It landed, ker-splat!
Nan spilt her tea. She said, “Don’t do that!”
Nan watched the TV. I played with the cat.
He ran up the curtains. Nan said, “Don’t do that!”
I went to the bedroom, and tried on Nan’s hat.
It made me giggle. Nan said, “Don’t do that!”
I went into the garden, with my ball and my bat,
But I stood on the flowers. Nan said, “Don’t do that!”
So I got out my book, and I sat on the mat.
I tried to be good. Nan said, “Yes! Do that!”

Sorry it’s a bit long but I think that emphasises the point more. Do you wish that this Nan were your Nan? I know I don’t. But also as I read this book over and over again to my repetition-loving son, I wonder if I’m a bit like this. Do you ever get to the end of the day and feel like all you’ve said to your children is, ‘No!’ or ‘Don’t!’?

Even worse than being a mum like this Nan, is the uncomfortable notion that I actually think God is like this. I feel like the rest of the world is having a lot of fun, and I’m only allowed to do a few things, which are the grown up equivalent of ‘getting out my book, sitting on the mat and trying to be good.’ Just keep your head down and don’t do anything bad! If this is how I live, is it any wonder that my friends don’t find Christianity attractive? They don’t want to give up all the fun they’re having in order to worship a God who restricts their freedom. Of course, it’s not entirely my fault that they think that, but it’s good to wonder whether I’m reinforcing that idea by my attitude.

So is God like Nan? Not according to Genesis 2:

Now the Lord God had planted a garden in the east, in Eden; and there he put the man he had formed. The Lord God made all kinds of trees grow out of the ground—trees that were pleasing to the eye and good for food. In the middle of the garden were the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil…

And the Lord God commanded the man, “You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die.”

God made all kinds of trees – an abundance – that were pleasing to the eye and good for food (I underlined that in case you missed it). Beautiful and delicious and abundant. But there was a dangerous tree in the garden, and God warned Adam not to eat from it. So God is not a restrictive parent, but one who lavishes us with wonderful gifts, for our enjoyment and for his glory. The abundance of beauty we can enjoy gives us a glimpse of His generous, beautiful character.

But just like when the serpent uttered to Eve, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?”, so Satan still lies to us now. I need to keep remembering that God is the opposite of this. He gives me freedom, and life in all its fullness. I am free to enjoy the life he’s given me:

The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
surely I have a delightful inheritance. (Psalm 16:6)

Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” (John 4:13-14)

If my view of God is right, then I will pass this on to my children, both in my attitude towards God and in the way I interact with them. So often I find my default answer is ‘no’, and then afterwards I think, ‘Well, I suppose we could…’ I’m not saying we should give in to our children all the time or let them set the agenda, but I hope you can be encouraged to think about how to show our children that they are free to do anything but sin. Some children are forever trying to do things that will harm them (drink bleach/run into the road/chew electrical wires), and some children are like fountains of messy and energetic ideas (‘Let’s paint our bodies! Let’s make a chocolate castle!’ ‘Let’s do something with charcoal!’). So you have my sympathies. It’s a tricky business, this parenting. But I know that if I genuinely enjoy the freedom I have in Christ, then that’s an excellent start to teaching my kids about it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go and stop my baby eating stones again…

Sunday Morning

These are the lyrics to a brilliant and inspiring rap written by my friend Stephen (aka Carbon). There isn’t really a substitute for hearing it performed, but in the absence of a recording this will have to do. I hope you enjoy it anyway! Happy Easter.

Sunday morning, its gone dawn and
She’s upset, her tears are pouring;
She came out for the sake of mourning
And the whole of Jerusalem is talking

In a garden, with a tomb and a grave
where a man was buried and laid in
But, the body’s gone it’s moved –
a man standing there says “Why you weeping?”
Assuming he’s the gardener, she says
“Where’ve you put him? Did you move him?”

Now it’s the third day
Since he died and was taken away
He was crucified before their eyes,
hung on a cross and left to die,
Confused and they’re mystified
Is this God’s king that they call Christ?

What’s happening? What’s dawning?
This weren’t no normal morning
The One who died is walking
Risen from the dead he’s talking (x2)

This man he weren’t no gardener, tourist or random passer
It’s him that died and was laid
She knows it as he calls her name
Jesus Christ, he’s alive again
He walks and he talks – what can they say?
He’s up like a sunrise, a morning bright star
And he shows himself to his people after

Now this weren’t the ideas of a man
Or some carefully thought through plan
No, it was all part of God’s plan
He died so our sin wouldn’t stand
But we’re still guilty for all of our sin
We’re still responsible for the nails in his hands

And this is what Isaiah meant
Hundreds of years before this incident
A man being led like a lamb to the slaughter
Silent like a sheep stood before its shearers

What’s happening? What’s dawning?
This weren’t no normal morning
The One who died is walking
Risen from the dead he’s talking (x2)

Death couldn’t hold him
The grave couldn’t keep him
He rose from the dead like a man that was sleeping
Rose and visit your people when they were grieving
That’s like the sun blasting at ten in the evening
All they saw was this Lord of Glory
Dead but now breathing, talking and eating
To the degree that they thought they had seen a ghost
You said “Look at me! Touch my flesh and bones.”

So he died on the cross to deal with my sin
He’s alive and we are being made alive in him
Like a girl from the slums that got married into the royal family
You will raise us: share all life and live with him.

So death where is your sting?
Who can bring a charge against us? Who can say a thing?
It’s God that justifies, Jesus Christ who died
Who is raised to life, at the Father’s side.

And now we can reign in him forever
As we put our hope in this house that stands all weather.

What’s happening? What’s dawning?
This weren’t no normal morning
The One who died is walking
Risen from the dead he’s talking (x2)

Trust Issues

‘Don’t trust anyone.’ You often hear that in films, and you can be sure that the main character will later be betrayed by someone that they do make the mistake of trusting. The implication of this is that you can’t actually live without trusting people. You might think you’re not a trusting person, but you still trust some people. If your children are at school, you trust their teachers to teach them and not to harm them. You trust the barista in Starbucks not to poison your coffee. And the higher the stakes, the more trustworthy a person needs to be. If you’re jumping out of a plane, you want your pilot and whoever packed your parachute to be trained and qualified!

I’ve put my ultimate trust in one man – not just for my life, but for the lives of my children. That man is the God-man, Jesus of Nazareth. I am bringing my children up to put their trust in him, and to do that I have to be sure I trust him myself. Otherwise, it’s too great a risk.

I got some good practice at this just under two years ago, when my brother had to have brain surgery to remove a benign tumour. My brother believes in Jesus, and so Jesus promises that my brother will have eternal life with him. Faced with the idea that my brother could die (brain surgery is brain surgery, after all), I had to decide again: do I trust this Jesus? Do I trust him with my brother’s life? At that time, I clung to this promise of Jesus from John’s Gospel:

‘I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?’ John 11:25 (He said this to Martha, whose brother had just died.)

At that time of fear and uncertainty, I chose to trust Jesus. And every day, as I teach my children the Bible and bring them up to be soldiers of Christ, I am choosing to trust Jesus. I’m trusting that he is all that he said he is when he walked the earth.

But how can I trust him? There’s no greater risk than risking your eternal future, and so how has Jesus earned my trust?

Let me show you:

On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, ‘Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: “The Son of Man must be delivered over to the hands of sinners, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.”’ Then they remembered his words. Luke 20:1-8.

Friends, the tomb was empty.

Head Above Parapet

I’m reading through Jeremiah at the moment. Sigh. It’s so tragic, not to mention long. Recently at church we looked at Ezekiel together, and one thing I’ve learnt from Jeremiah and Ezekiel is this: the Lord hates idolatry. Sometimes I find myself turning to idols – comfort eating/retail therapy/thinking my husband can solve all of my problems – and I remind myself that those idols won’t satisfy me. They’re not good for me. And this is true – God uses it as a reason to turn from idols when he speaks to his people: ‘Where are the gods you made for yourselves? Let them come if they can save you when you are in trouble!’ Jeremiah 2:28.

But the first reason I shouldn’t worship idols is not actually to do with me and what I will or won’t get out of it. The first reason is that the LORD is the only true and living God, and he hates idolatry. He will not share his glory with another. Just read what he says to his people in Ezekiel 7v3-4:

The end is now upon you, 
and I will unleash my anger against you.
I will judge you according to your conduct 
and repay you for all your detestable practices.
I will not look on you with pity; 
I will not spare you.
I will surely repay you for your conduct 
and for the detestable practices among you.

It’s sobering stuff, isn’t it? Idolatry makes God angry, because he alone deserves all the glory:

But the Lord is the true God; 
he is the living God, the eternal King.
When he is angry, the earth trembles; 
the nations cannot endure his wrath…
He who is the Portion of Jacob is not like [idols],
for he is the Maker of all things… Jeremiah 10:10;16

So when I find myself trusting in other things, I need to repent and ask the Lord to give me a pure heart that worships him alone.

Sometimes, though, an idol is so ubiquitous and normal in our society that we might not even notice it. These are the dangerous ones, because if they’re even normal within the church, we’re much more likely to keep on trusting in them, and therefore not fully trusting in the Lord.

One example of a popular god in our society has caught my attention recently. This god is ruthless and cruel. It promises much: power, success, money, opportunity, legacy, freedom, but of course it cannot deliver. It will not satisfy. But also if you don’t live up to its high demands, this god will label you useless, stupid and an all-round failure. And even as its most devout followers begin to see the cracks and the disappointments in this religion, they are pushing their children harder in its rituals and practices. Perhaps they just need to work a little harder at it? Then they’ll really see results. They’ll have absolute security; they’ll be truly satisfied; they’ll really feel significant.

Have you guessed what it is yet? I hope so. This is the Western god of education, or perhaps I should say Academic Success. Now before you throw your laptop down in disgust (don’t do that, you’ll only regret it), I know that education and success in it are good things. For what it’s worth, I did extremely well academically at school and I know I’ve benefitted from that. But our society has turned this good thing into a false god, and the current generation of teenagers is being worked harder and put under more pressure than any generation before it. Youth groups suffer (i.e. discipleship takes a back seat) because teenagers can’t spare the time away from homework and revision. The local church ships its teenagers off to an independent school miles away while the school on its doorstep remains oblivious to the gospel message. Young people leave university, crippled with debt and still not knowing who they are or what to do with their lives. And all because we, not just our neighbours but our churches too, believe that salvation comes from being the top of the class.

Can I just reiterate that although I know I’m putting this strongly, I do believe that education itself is a good thing. If it adds weight to my argument, I did used to be a teacher and I loved it! And although I know this is a very contentious issue, I do believe we are free to send our children to whichever school seems right. I do also think that we need to examine and question our motives, particularly because the worship of Academic Success is all around us, inviting us in. Education might be a silver bullet, but it is not a saviour.

In a week’s time I will find out what school my daughter will be going to in September. Every year this gets in the newspapers, with headlines about ‘postcode lottery’ and parents almost having breakdowns with the stress of getting their kids into the ‘only good school in the area.’ As a mum, it’s really hard not to get swept along with the hysteria. Pangs of jealousy when you meet someone whose child got into the school yours didn’t get into. Lying in bed at night wondering whether she will be irrevocably damaged by a sub-standard primary school.

I could go on and on about this. If you know me personally, I’ve probably talked to you about it. Maybe I’ll write another post (or ten) about it in the future, but for now let me just encourage you that above all, your child needs Jesus. My daughter needs to know that the Lord made her – that’s who she is. The Lord loves her – that’s where her security lies. The Lord can forgive her sins – that’s her salvation.

The Lord loves your child, and his plans are perfect. This is true if you can afford the best prep school in the country; it’s true if your child has a scholarship to that prep school; it’s true if you home educate; it’s true if your child’s school is ‘bog standard.’ It’s true if your child’s school is the absolute worst performing primary school in the UK.

I love this from 1 Samuel: Do not turn away after useless idols. They can do you no good, nor can they rescue you, because they are useless (1 Samuel 12:21). In case we didn’t hear it the first time, he tells us again that the idols we make for ourselves are useless! Only the Lord is God.

So how do we do turn away from idols? As Tim Keller says in Counterfeit Gods, ‘idols must be displaced.’ We turn from idols by worshipping the Lord:

But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, 
whose confidence is in him.
They will be like a tree planted by the water 
that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes; 
its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought 
and never fails to bear fruit.’ Jeremiah 17:7-8

Look Out!

Birthday balloons from our church family

What is church like? Recently in our Sunday service, we used some verses from Romans 12 to help us confess our sins:

Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honour one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervour, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practise hospitality. (Romans 12: 9-13)

This is what God wants our church family to look like. So it seemed appropriate that we should use these verses to say sorry to God and repent of the ways we’re not like this at all. Two things stood out to me the most: verse 10, ‘Be devoted to one another in love. Honour one another above yourselves.’ Since becoming a mum, I’m sort of learning how to do this better inside my home. I am devoted to my children, and most of the time I think I do put their needs above my own. As parents we make sacrifices for our children – it’s part of the package. But a lot of the time, I’m so busy thinking about what my children are up to now and what shopping I need to get and I must remember to pick up that prescription and I need to remind Mike to fix that lamp and wow is that the time and I need a cuppa… that I don’t have the time or the capacity to look outside of my immediate family and see who else is out there. Or do I?

When I read that verse, can I just focus on the needs of my husband and children? Honouring them above myself is enough to be getting on with, surely? Well that brings me on to the other verse that stood out to me: verse 13, ‘Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practise hospitality.’ Is anyone in my church family in need? Of course. In fact, the more I get to know them the more I understand their needs.

God uses the church to bless us in so many ways, and I learnt a new one recently. As we carry each other’s burdens and share in each other’s sorrows, it sometimes helps to put our own problems into perspective. A friend in my church is trying to come off strong painkillers because they make her very tired, but as she began reducing her dose, the pain was too much so she had to revert to the high dose. She has to choose between pain and tiredness, and so she chooses tiredness. We are praying for healing for her, but in the meantime she is facing the possibility that she’ll have to take these drugs for the rest of her life. As I prayed for her and shared in her sorrows, I was humbled. I hate being tired – it gives me a knot in the pit of my stomach and I feel so sorry for myself. But why am I tired? It’s because I have three beautiful children, who are bloomin’ hard work all day and who often wake me up in the night. What a lovely reason to feel like a zombie! And one day I expect my children will stop waking me in the night and I’ll be trying to drag them out of bed in the morning, and I won’t have to change their nappies anymore, and they might even do a bit of cleaning and cooking for me. So as I thought about my friend’s predicament, it did make me thankful that my tiredness is probably temporary, and is a bi-product of the blessing of being a mother. However, if I hadn’t listened to her and prayed for her, I would never have realised any of this. I’d be feeling just as sorry for myself, and I wouldn’t be supporting my friend at all.

I hope you have a church family that is loving and supportive, I really do. Because if we’re all putting each other first, then nobody will be neglected:

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 2:3-4.

Imagine what church would look like if we really lived this out! If I could forget myself and look to others, then I would be imitating Christ. And what about my children? If all they see is me putting them first and ignoring everyone else, they’ll happily carry on thinking that the world revolves around them (an attitude they were born with). But how wonderful it would be if they saw their parents putting others first: if we said ‘no’ to certain treats so that we could give money to some friends who need it more; if we invited a lonely pensioner to join us on our family day out. This would show our children that we’re following a Saviour and Lord who didn’t look to his own needs, but who threw down his rights and looked up to Calgary.

Of course, sometimes we will feel like we’re so swamped that we can’t possibly listen to someone sharing their troubles, let alone help anybody. But here are two suggestions if that’s the case:

Could we do less at home in order to have the time and energy to serve the church family better? We all have different capacities, so some of us can bake our daily bread, make our children’s clothes, host a Film Night once a fortnight for the youth group and feed a different elderly person each night of the week. But some of us can’t, and so sometimes I need to accept that yes, while it might be nice if I could reupholster that chair, it’s better if I just stick a throw on it and go and visit my sick friend in hospital. Or maybe we need to get a shop-bought birthday cake this time so that I can help out a friend who’s just given birth.
Could the church family help you so that you can help them? It’s good if our church family knows that we’re not actually machines, and sometimes we are frazzled and need HELP! Perhaps someone could hold your baby for you on a Sunday morning so that you can keep tabs on your toddler and be less exhausted by the end of the service. Maybe you need to organise a babysitter once a week so that you can go for a walk and a chat with your husband, and then feel more able to counsel a friend. Little things that help you might enable you to help others.

I need to focus more on how I can honour my church family, rather than all of the reasons I’m too busy/tired/preoccupied to do so. As a family, we (the Brookses) are in a great position to bless people in the church. For example, we could have someone round after church for lunch, since another mouth to feed probably won’t make much difference. Or I could siphon off some dinner and pop it round to an elderly lady’s flat so she doesn’t have to cook for herself tonight. We could commit to pray as a family each Monday morning for someone at church who’s lost their job. The kids could make cards to send to the church’s mission partners in Rwanda. I probably can’t do all of these things, but I can pray that God would give me opportunities and help me to rejoice in them. I don’t want to be self-centred and ungrateful; I want to lead my children on the path to self-forgetfulness and contentment.

God to the Rescue

Pharaoh masks – they always want to be the villain.

Your children might be breaking up for Easter today, or maybe, like my daughter, next Friday. I’ve been thinking about how I could teach the children leading up to Easter, a bit like I did at advent when my brilliant friends gave me their Pre-School Bible Overview Advent Calendar.

I haven’t ironed out all the creases yet (I’m speaking metaphorically of course, I don’t actually iron), but I thought I’d post this now so that you might be inspired to come up with something yourself, or maybe even pinch and tweak mine (the metaphors are coming thick and strong now).

I bought some Bible sticker books by Miles Kelly (My Bible Sticker Activity) from thebookpeople.co.uk, and they’re really good so I’ll use those as an activity each day. But if you don’t have the same sticker books, I’m sure you can Google craft activities or just print off a colouring sheet for the relevant Bible story. Or maybe you have a Bible activity book with a suitable page that hasn’t yet been filled in – I hope so!

Here goes, please find my little teaching outline below. BPSB is the Big Picture Story Bible by David Helm; BB is the Beginner’s Bible (from the Good Book Co I think?) and JSB is the Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones. Sorry if there are bits missing or it’s unclear – I have another week to work on it but wanted to post this today in case your children are off next week.

Each day we will hang up a plastic egg (we have loads left over from a church egg hunt) with the day’s message written on it (using an address label probably, nothing fancy) in order to keep track of what we’ve learnt, and to make it a bit festive.

Theme: God to the Rescue

Day	Message	Story / Lesson	Activity (from Miles Kelly My Bible Sticker Activity books)
Monday 14^th	God rescued Noah from the flood	BPSB p. 58-65 / God punished the world and he saved Noah + family. (You might need to give background here, i.e. start from the beginning (creation and fall) on the days leading up to it)	Noah’s Ark p.22-23
Tuesday 15^th	The Passover: God rescued his people from death	BPSB p. 114-129/ God’s people killed a lamb so that the lamb would die instead of their sons. God rescued his people from death by giving them ‘the great sign.’ (Again you may need to give a bit of context)	Moses and the Princess p.20-21
Wed 16^th	The Red Sea:God rescued his people from Egypt.	BB p. 111-115/ God rescued his people from the Egyptians by parting the Red Sea.	Moses and the Princess p. 22
Thurs 17^th	David/Goliath: God rescued his people from their enemies.	BB p. 173-180 or JSB/ God rescued the Israelite army from the Philistines by sending David to defeat Goliath.	David and Goliath p.20-23
Friday 18^th	Jesus came to raise the dead	Lazarus BPSB p. 338-352/Jesus came to rescue people from death	Colouring sheet (or Jesus and the Fishermen p. 8)
Saturday 19^th	The Cross: God rescues his people from punishment.	p. 368-p. 373 (or just p. 373) Jesus died the death we deserve for sinning against God.	The First Easter p. 18-20
Sunday 20^th	TheResurrection: God rescues his people from death.	JSB: God’s wonderful surprise. God has rescued us from death by raising Jesus from the dead. Because he rose from the dead, we will too if we trust in him.	The First Easter p. 21
Monday21st	New Life: We can be rescued from sin and death by believing in Jesus.	BPSB p. 414-423 (Pentecost)/ When we put our trust in Jesus, our old self dies and our new life begins, with God’s Holy Spirit living in us. (This is clearly a tricky concept for pre-schoolers, but it’s worth a go!)	The First Easter p. 22-23

A slightly ridiculous time-sensitive post

If you’re new to this blog, please don’t take this post as representative of the whole! Usually my posts have more of a point and are easier to understand – I hope.

The clocks went forward last night. This usually means that you lose an hour’s sleep, because if you usually get up at 9am on a Sunday morning, you have to get up at 8am (which has now become 9am). I remember this being an issue when I was younger – I would spend the next week feeling tired, thinking ‘I want my hour back!’

However, we’ve noticed something since having children, which has taken a few years to grasp but I think we’re there now. When the clocks go forward, we actually don’t lose an hour any more. We might even gain one. Let me explain:

Our children are our alarm clock. They usually ‘go off’ between 6am and 7am. Let’s call that 6.30. This morning, they didn’t wake up an hour earlier just because the clocks changed. They didn’t know the clocks had changed. So they woke up at the same time, which is now 7.30am. So if anything, it feels like we’ve been given a lie in! And better still, even when we put them to bed tonight at 7pm, which will only feel like 6pm, they will probably wake around 7am or even later, because that’s the time they’re used to waking up. (Have I lost you yet? Probably – sorry).

So I suppose one thing to take away from this is that in Autumn when the clocks go back and everyone else we know gains an hour’s sleep but we feel we’ve been cheated out of an hour’s sleep, we can remember that in the Spring, the opposite happens and we sort of gain an hour when everyone else is losing one.

Yes, having children does make everything topsy-turvy – and sometimes it’s for the better!

Learning to say “Thank You”

Meltdown

Happy Mother’s Day everyone! I wrote this post a week ago and I’m just getting around to posting it. It occurred to me that perhaps it’s wildly inappropriate to be writing these things on Mother’s Day – but then again I thought maybe the opposite is true? I hope you don’t have a meltdown today, but I’m sure there’s no guarantee. If you’re not a mum and you read this, maybe it will inspire you to give a mum you know a cuddle today!

I had a meltdown this week. By meltdown I mean a grown-up tantrum, unless when I write grown-up you think of rational, reasonable and proportionate, in which case it was just a tantrum.

And I just thought that I should tell you about it – lest you think that I’ve got it all together. Some people tell me I’m always calm. I can be screaming on the inside, but for some reason people will say to me things like, ‘How are you not stressed?’ My family (parents; brother; husband) find this all very amusing, because they know I’m like a wild donkey really in the emotions department. Anyway, I’d hate for you to think that, because I write this blog, I’m fine every day. And even when I tell people I’ve had a meltdown, I will say it in a calm (or even entertaining) way, which detracts from the reality of the emotional rubbish heap I found myself in on Wednesday evening.

I think it’s normal to do this sometimes – to find a day really hard and to decide to sit and have a cry. Or worse, experience the thunderstorm on the inside but not quite know how to express it. Maybe something obvious triggers it – a toddler tantrum followed by the washing machine leaking and then rounded off with banging your head on the kitchen cupboard (I HATE banging my head. It’s my least favourite thing to do). In a way these times are simpler, because then when your husband comes home (or your mum walks in) and finds you in a heap on the floor, you can explain yourself.

Other times it’s less obvious. Could it be cumulative tiredness or stress? Hormones? Doubts trickling in about God’s goodness? Worries about money occupying your thoughts and reducing your capacity and patience?

This time it wasn’t really anything obvious. I wanted my husband to be home, and he was a bit late. I suddenly felt really, really sick of looking after my children, all the while watching them and feeling incredibly guilty for having such selfish thoughts: ‘I’ve been breastfeeding this baby for eight-and-a-half months and I’d like a day off!’ ‘God has sustained this life for eight-and-a-half months and all I can do is whine about it!’ Etc.

I’m no expert, but I assume that if I felt like this every day, I would probably be spiralling into a depression and should ask someone for some serious help. But once in a while, is it normal for a mum to feel trapped and weary and a bit like she needs to scream into a pillow? I dare say it is.

Now it’s probably the appropriate moment to present the solution to my emotional problems, in order to encourage any mums out there who can relate to what I’m saying. But actually I don’t have the solution, and because I don’t think there is an easy fix, I’m not going to try giving you one.

My husband, like many men, is a fixer. This is a good quality, and I’m not knocking it. But it’s a burden for him when there’s something he can’t fix. That’s why it’s hard for him when I’m in labour! And it’s hard for him when I’m just feeling fed up of my 24/7/365 job. He can encourage me to go to bed early, but that won’t necessarily stop me being tired (especially if the baby wakes in the night). He can remind me of God’s kindness and all there is to be thankful for. Now that is a good one, but it won’t necessarily cheer me right up instantly. So sometimes, I just need a hug. It’s a cliché, but sometimes you do just need a shoulder to cry on, and for someone to tell you that it’s not really surprising that you quite fancy a holiday in the Maldives.

But when I’m feeling down, I need to preach to myself, rather than listen to myself. Below I’ve listed a few things that spring to mind, in no particular order because this is not the place for a polished piece:

Is God surprised by my tears? I assume not, otherwise why would he say that ‘he will wipe every tear from [our] eyes’? (Rev 21.4)
If life is hard, then that doesn’t necessarily mean I’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way. I can learn to change my expectations – life is not a bed of roses. CS Lewis wrote: ‘If you think of this world as a place intended simply for our happiness, you find it quite intolerable: think of it as a place of training and correction and it’s not so bad.’ So I can thank God, even in the tears, that he’s teaching me something, even when I can’t fathom what that is at the moment. Then I can go to bed – tomorrow is a new day.
My church family is there for me, so I need to be honest about how things are going. Anything else is lying. And they can’t help me at all if they think I’m absolutely fine.
Guilt and shame are a thing of the past, because I am in Christ. Yes I should say sorry for wishing I were far away from my beautiful children. No I may not feel ashamed and guilty. ‘Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died – more than that, who was raised to life – is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.’ Romans 8:33-34.
I need to pray that if God doesn’t want to change my situation, that he would change me instead. I trust he can do this, because he’s been doing it for about thirteen years now. And sometimes, when I’m not looking, he does graciously change my situation too. Thanks be to God.
My emotions don’t define me, so there’s no need to panic. God is still God when I’ve locked myself in the bathroom. The gospel is still true when I don’t know how I’m going to get through the day.
Sometimes, like Elijah in 1 Kings 19:3-6, what I actually need is to sleep, eat, then sleep some more.

The God of Small Things

The climax of God’s glorious creation – plus some trees and a lake.

Have you read ‘The God of Small Things’ by Arundhati Roy? It’s both excellent and horrifying. I highly recommend it unless you are in any way sensitive to violence, or are hormonal in any way. I for one wish I’d never read it, but not because of anything to do with the quality of it. But I’ve just borrowed the title for this blog post because sometimes I wonder, is our God actually the God of Small Things?

I’ve already mentioned that we recently had our church’s weekend away. We were staying in a big house in the countryside, and the weather was amazing. Amazing for England in March, i.e. sunny and breezy and a bit warm. For one of the talks we sat outside in the sunshine (because our Pastor is fun!). There we were, in the grounds of this house – trees, lakes, fields as far as the eye could see. These things make your heart sing, don’t they? God is awesome – in the actual sense of the word. (Northern English people don’t say ‘awesome’ when they mean ‘pretty good’). A friend of mine has just been to the Isle of Lewis (Scottish Island, really far away) and he was telling me how the beauty of God’s creation is crying out to you about God’s glory all the time when you’re there. And that’s a biblical view, isn’t it? Romans 1 says ‘For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities… have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made…’ (See also Psalm 19)

But do you know what shows us God’s glory more than a mountain? The crowded bus stop near my flat. The homeless man who sits outside my Doctor’s surgery. My husband’s bed-bound grandfather.

‘So God created mankind in his own image,
in the image of God he created them;
male and female he created them.’ Genesis 1:27.

The trouble with the city is, it’s full. It takes half an hour to drive the three miles to my friend’s house, because there are other people in the way. Where we live, you can rent a spacious 1 bedroom flat for £350 per week – because there are too many people and not enough space. It’s hard to get your child into nursery, because the nursery is full of other people’s children. The city is crammed, bulging and bursting at the seams, with people like you and me. And that’s the glory of the city. This is not a post about the city, though – maybe I’ll write one some day but while Tim Keller is around there seems little point in me trying to say anything worthwhile about the city.

Every person you’ve ever seen is made in God’s image. And because of that, we have a responsibility to treat them with dignity and to value them above other things God has created. That’s why the Bible says it’s OK to eat meat, but not to kill a person (Acts 10:9-13; Gen 9:6).

So as parents, what can we take away from this? Often our role seems insignificant compared to other people we know. You might have friends who deal with large sums of money each day, or who run successful businesses, or who create beautiful music or art or food. You might have friends whose daily challenges include prescribing people the right medication, or rescuing people from domestic violence, or communicating the gospel to prisoners or gangsters or politicians. I have friends who do these things. And what do I do? I get my children dressed. I help them with jigsaws. I grill fish fingers. I hang the washing out.

Some friends of ours had their first baby this week. The father, a Doctor himself, texted me to ask if I knew what to do about the baby’s chapped lips. I didn’t really know, but I tried to reassure him that it would probably be OK. My husband and I were reminiscing about those first few days and weeks, in which your world shrinks. Suddenly everything is about this little life, and how to sustain it. ‘She’s pulling a face, is she OK?’ ‘He can’t get his wind up!’ ‘Is she meant to be cross-eyed?’ These things are all terribly important to you. But do you ever wonder whether they’re important to God? Can God really care if this child has dry skin or not? Does God want me to care about that?

There’s one child born every minute in the UK. Can God really care about each one of those children? Or in other words,

‘When I consider your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,
what is mankind that you are mindful of them,
human beings that you care for them?’ (Psalm 8:3-4)

God is so big, and the world is so magnificent, so am I just losing track of what really matters? As I pray about my daughter enjoying nursery more, or my son having tantrums less, or my baby suffering less with teething, is God really bothered? The psalm goes on:

‘You have made them a little lower than the angels,
and crowned them with glory and honour.
You made them rulers over the works of your hand;
You put everything under their feet…’ (5-6)

God does care, because he’s chosen to make people in his image. Your children matter to him, because he’s made them to be rulers over his magnificent creation. God has made them, and they’re amazing. They’re corrupt, oh yes, but they’re glorious. In fact, the corruption is so much worse because of how glorious they are. No wonder it’s so hard to bring them up right.

I heard a brilliant talk last year on Psalm 23 (‘The Lord is my Shepherd’). The preacher used the example of Aron Ralston who got trapped down a ravine and had to cut his arm off to escape (made famous by the film ‘127 Hours’). He was asking us if ever have ‘canyon moments’, where we feel completely stuck and helpless. Maybe it’s an illness, or financial problems, or addictions. And then he said something like, ‘Or maybe you’re just facing an afternoon with a colicky baby…’ I was so relieved when he said that because, as I told him afterwards, I was sitting there thinking ‘Oh, I had a canyon moment the other day in Marks and Spencer’s.’ I have had serious problems and frightening times in my life of course, but usually the day-to-day struggles I have seem a bit unimpressive. They involve the minutia of my children’s hearts. And, worse still, my own heart! And I can end up wondering whether I’ve lost all perspective. Sometimes I do lose perspective of course, but if my day has been difficult because I’ve spent it with three willful, beautiful, cruel, generous, sinful, glorious children, then that’s OK! God knows it’s hard, and his glory is there in the middle of the mess. I don’t need to go to the Isle of Lewis to see God’s glory in creation, because my flat is full of it.

And how can I respond to this God who cares when my discipline method fails again, or my daughter surprises me with her kindness, or my baby crawls across the room for the first time?

‘LORD, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth!’ (Psalm 8, v 9).

Dickens on Kids