tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41324291808948172742024-03-14T03:15:09.722+00:00Full HandsEstherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.comBlogger148125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-82321396124885750672023-10-24T11:40:00.001+01:002023-10-24T11:40:33.633+01:00My Heaven Groans<p><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I wake with an ache</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And wish I could find immediate relief</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of the heaviness of wearing a human body</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">These are my heaven groans</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I feel a gap in my soul</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That I cannot explain</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Because I have all I should need</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What I asked for</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What others still pray for</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">These are my heaven groans</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I want what I know I cannot and should not have</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And conquer my desire with pragmatism</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And realism</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And gratitude for what I already have</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Then have to find the momentum </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To begin the same cycle days later</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">These are my heaven groans</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I constantly imagine a state of perfection</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That I have never achieved </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Yet feel compelled to achieve</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And chastise myself daily for failing to achieve</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">These are my heaven groans</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I can never accept </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That death is a real and irreversible thing</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And feel every subsequent loss</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With the added weight of each previous one</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">These are my heaven groans</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I catch glimpses of beauty</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That make something deep inside me somersault</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As if I’ve just witnessed paradise</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But know I cannot hold it</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Explain it</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Or keep it </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">These are my heaven groans</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I have moments of human connection</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That make me feel whole</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And light a spark in me that I’d forgotten about</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But know that those moments come and go</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And cannot be artificially replicated</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But are worth turning up for over and over</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In the hope they might happen again</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">These are my heaven groans</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I hear words of truth</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That resonate with something in my spirit</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Which was previously unseen</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Unidentified</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But came alive when it was given a name</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">These are my heaven groans</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I wonder why I am always searching</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For something I’ve never known</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As if a whisper of eternity</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Was implanted in me from birth</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Compelling me forward to a prize beyond measure </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And sweet fulfilment of every part of me</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That I will never experience here on earth</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">These are my heaven groans</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For my heaven home</span></p>Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-67825111109938351112023-05-20T19:22:00.000+01:002023-05-20T19:22:05.016+01:00The 142nd Day<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">The first 141 days of 2012 were grey and oppressive</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As we sat in hospital rooms watching you </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Hovering between life and death</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Between heaven and earth</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The line between the two never felt more transparent</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We cried for you, prayed for you and implored God and doctors on your behalf</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We carried you to the different buildings </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And wards that held so much hope</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We said yes to every idea that might fix you</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When your legs no longer worked </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We carried you from bed to bathroom </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We brought you anything we could think of that would bring you joy</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When your arms no longer worked we fed you </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We followed your instructions </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You told us which colours to use in your pictures </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And where to move your game piece on the board</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When your eyesight failed you</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We read books and messages of hope to you</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And listened to you giggle as you heard the dialogue of your favourite movies </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Picturing the characters in your mind</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And finding joy</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In the darkness </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When you could no longer eat</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We fed you by tubes </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And felt the sweet privilege of nurturing a newborn</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When every simple act of human interaction</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Becomes an honour</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Serving the uniqueness and fragility of another</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Asking nothing in return</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We would have breathed for you if we could</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We even tried a temporary resurrection of our own</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As if humans could attempt what only God can do</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We allowed medicine to strip your body of its life source by killing off your bone marrow</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And bringing in new life</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Transferred from your brother’s bones</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Through tubes and machines</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Into yours</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Replacing your very DNA</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Trying to recreate you</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was one of many miracles we saw in those 141 days</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But when the end came</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And we knew we had to stop asking to keep you</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And ask instead that you would be freed from the prison that your broken body had become</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We watched the thin veil that had held you on earth for so long </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tear away</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And you went on before us</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To a place we couldn’t go with you</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We were picked up and carried back to our family home</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Knowing it would never again be your home</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Knowing your family would no longer be the ones to hold you</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Knowing you no longer needed us to do all those things for you</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And as my eyes were able to see beyond the one miracle we had exhausted ourselves for</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I looked up.</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The sky has never been as blue as that 142nd day</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One colour in a thousand shades of brilliance and depth</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As if the whole of heaven was celebrating the homecoming of our blue-eyed boy</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bathing the earth in colour and wonder and brilliant light</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Through the broken veil </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In the greatest celebration of life I’ve ever seen</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Death had had its moment</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of separating us from you</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And you from your suffering </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But now in heaven and on earth </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We could celebrate your true resurrection into your new and perfect body</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Thankyou for everything, my beautiful boy </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">1 Corinthians 15:35-58</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45RyyHnyfX4mPSp5a59Xq6OZmtjmGqRC9E68I0O9ksBi3YsvbpxKqqQuQ1qUJuvbJ_jBYdtorh8kn90LPFGCtAoxsdlMgcvOa_KbjeONFwj8xNBnrbw9diDnfXt81dWMsmGobef67_h2-iPYnNUTdG_o-me6_oqHR7Tyi-pXgjUWazsAh2UXHLasT/s720/6D178F45-2762-4C7A-831B-67B44ED31DFC.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="545" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45RyyHnyfX4mPSp5a59Xq6OZmtjmGqRC9E68I0O9ksBi3YsvbpxKqqQuQ1qUJuvbJ_jBYdtorh8kn90LPFGCtAoxsdlMgcvOa_KbjeONFwj8xNBnrbw9diDnfXt81dWMsmGobef67_h2-iPYnNUTdG_o-me6_oqHR7Tyi-pXgjUWazsAh2UXHLasT/w484-h640/6D178F45-2762-4C7A-831B-67B44ED31DFC.jpeg" width="484" /></a></div><br />Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-54369525814683610012022-09-15T23:18:00.001+01:002022-09-15T23:18:27.777+01:00This Time of Year <span id="docs-internal-guid-e9950def-7fff-8460-3a44-90f615948efc"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I have this weird things with dates and events. They stick in my head and take up room whether I want them to or not. If there’s something significant - good or bad - that happens one year, then that date will still be in my head for the year after and my subconscious will automatically gear me up for it whether there’s something there or not. </span></span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I usually don’t have to look at a calendar to experience this. Something on an unconscious level must be tuned into the changing smells of different seasons, or the shifting angles of light throughout the year. My emotions and memories start going places before I’ve had chance to realise what’s going on.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I realised this last year in September when my thoughts and feelings were going haywire and began to ask what had previously happened in mid-Septembers to make me feel this way.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Um, it turned out to be a LOT. </span></span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">It should’ve been a great time of year for our family as it’s when we celebrated our double birthday. The twins were born on September 16th during a very hot autumn. That wasn’t the easiest of times though. As well as the difficult pregnancy and the whole birthing-two-babies thing, their first week of life was complicated by their separation and some considerable anxiety because one of them wasn’t feeding properly and giving concern about his breathing. He was whisked away to the special care unit on a different floor for several days while I was left with the sole responsibility of the other twin on a very busy ward (did you know that September birth rates are higher than any other months?). The overwhelm of not being able to stretch myself far enough to be present for both of them, with the impending knowledge that once they were both okay and able to come home I would then have to care for two newborns and a toddler, was quite a lot for a 24-year-old to handle.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">We got through the whirlwind of those first few years together but then came another series of Septembers that seemed to start fine and then suddenly throw a gut-winding punch out of the blue.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">In the first year of Daniel’s illness we had convinced ourselves that he was getting better as his outward symptoms seemed to have lessened, only to find out around his seventh birthday that the steroids had been masking the growing shadows that showed up on his brain scans. We were told at that point that there would be a long arduous journey ahead. The following September his health was so bad that the day after his eighth birthday he had his worst seizure yet and we needed to call an ambulance to Morecambe prom while we tried to keep him breathing. It was the same week that we were told he would need to start chemotherapy immediately and we knew that his return to full health would never be an option.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">A couple of years later it was the week when Richard was whisked into surgery to have tumours removed from his spine. Almost immediately we got the diagnosis that it was indeed fast-moving cancer that had been causing his severe back pain and that he needed to start a course of chemotherapy and radiotherapy, turning the rhythm of our family life upside down again.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Then a few years later the sucker punch came in the form of our plans for moving house. We had been poised ready to head in one direction once we had an offer on our house, and as soon as that offer came, a series of events happened that meant that within a week the plan had completely changed and we were heading somewhere unexpected instead.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">And then in 2020 - the Year of the Unexpected Everything - mid-September excelled all the other months when my dad died of an instant heart attack on the night of the seventeenth. We definitely didn’t see that one coming.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Last year as my mum and I talked & identified all of these life-changing, earth-shattering moments that have followed each other in a month that should be about fresh starts and new routines, it made sense of why we now enter September with a sense of unease. It’s hard to shake something that’s been imprinted deeper than logic. The pattern wasn’t broken that year either, as I got my first bout of Covid right then which wrecked Joel’s plans for his 18th birthday and led to me having to let go of roles and responsibilities I could no longer carry because of the long term effect it had on my health. It was another month that totally altered the trajectory of where I thought life was headed.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">So what’s the point of summing up all of this? Mainly because it’s therapeutic to stop and understand what’s actually happened. My sense of unease and emotional imbalance hasn’t come as much of a shock to me this year and that means I’ve been able to handle it much better. I’ve given myself a break and had a good cry with safe people when I’ve needed to. I’ve reminded myself of how far I’ve come and how each of those incredibly difficult pieces of bad news didn’t finish me off, even if they did herald the start of significant losses each time.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">And I wanted to write it down in case anyone else has recognised something similar in their own lives when the calendar rolls around and despite applying logic, your feelings won’t let you settle. Peace once disturbed can be hard to get back, and our brilliant brains, always ready to learn and protect us, often kickstart our defence mechanisms whether we ask them to or not. If you don’t know why it’s happening, the feeling of despondency, panic or paralysis (I find it reeeeally hard to make future plans at this point of the year) can be worse because it doesn’t seem to have a source. </span></span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">One of my dad’s favourite sayings was, “We don’t know what the future holds, but we know Who holds the future.” It seems like a very trite thing to say but in the shock of everything we had to deal with as a result of his death, that phrase shone like a beacon in the middle of everything else .</span></span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Sometimes one line of truth is all we need to anchor us and ride the waves of emotion that come to us because we are human. I’m holding onto this until the end of September and then I’ll hold onto another truth for the month of October (because there’s no reason it should be any less predictable), and keep going like that because there’s more of God’s truths to hold onto than months any of us will be around for anyway.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I hope that’s helped somebody x</span></span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-38891989719234957242022-05-21T08:49:00.001+01:002022-05-21T08:57:05.868+01:00The Lucky Ones<span style="font-family: georgia;">Shortly after losing our son, Richard and I realised that it had left an impact on us that we hadn’t expected. Whenever we would see another family out and about with a child that had obvious medical or developmental needs, we would look away from them and towards each other and whisper, “It’s the lucky ones.” </span><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"> It was such an unexpected pang that it took me a while to figure it out. What most people yearn for is health - medically and developmentally - for their kids. For most of Daniel’s illness, our question was, ‘how and when can we get him back to normal?’ We hoped that each investigation would give us answers about the root of his illness, and that each procedure would result in him being fixed. I even held off organising an official family photo during the two and a half years when we were a family of seven, because I wanted to wait until his eye wasn’t wonky anymore and his steroid-induced puffy cheeks had settled down. Oh how I regret that now.
</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvcqVjd5tbFZta3bxuZUnH2DzhX-N-LnsZ7JmsE0HNeErGxnpweKSlWNiBRfL5XX6SZ1pTM7ZOEzeVdmQo_PG_N560m1HAMw72zpfZWewK3m8am44ftV_b9AusUcxWFlJUxT9DgcfXTh0PJSYFfXQo4ehX5ZhFUKGEobNyZdIqYK9i3WAgjf8qSfOA/s2592/Esther%20iphone%202011%20788.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1936" data-original-width="2592" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvcqVjd5tbFZta3bxuZUnH2DzhX-N-LnsZ7JmsE0HNeErGxnpweKSlWNiBRfL5XX6SZ1pTM7ZOEzeVdmQo_PG_N560m1HAMw72zpfZWewK3m8am44ftV_b9AusUcxWFlJUxT9DgcfXTh0PJSYFfXQo4ehX5ZhFUKGEobNyZdIqYK9i3WAgjf8qSfOA/s400/Esther%20iphone%202011%20788.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">
By the time we’d been struggling for two years with his condition, he was regularly having seizures, could no longer walk or use his hands properly, and his blood levels were so unpredictable that our focus was no longer his rehabilitation but his survival. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"> In retrospect, his life was like an arc. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">When a baby boy is new, he cannot do anything for himself and you don’t expect him to either. This little life doesn’t exist to participate in the responsibilities of the household or the wider society he’s born into. Of course, there is the hope of this interaction in the future - that he will have a full, productive and reciprocal life - but in the meantime there is only one thing you expect from a baby and that is the joy of human connection. As a parent of a newborn you have to learn to enjoy the interactions as something you can do to express your love and care of a baby, by feeding, cleaning, dressing, soothing and watching out for him. There is no expectation of anything in return, although that eventual reward after six weeks or so when they can first look you in the eye and smile in genuine recognition of you is one of the most epic experiences ever.</span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnnROrM1nC-SMh3u8tD4TaR4qfpH60uTVfnh8wKdlGuyZKIa8j70cZmdVzuANETHU8r-1KO2La6d5X1lNphX06Jp8r4pMJYSlX-3acBuaoFvp-BIt4q0dIluPJhwl0DU8MZpJo4xkercTJ0Doq8caLR83t_Zraq5vs7akMoNNzN6lYoIG311zej6C1/s1280/DSCF0094.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnnROrM1nC-SMh3u8tD4TaR4qfpH60uTVfnh8wKdlGuyZKIa8j70cZmdVzuANETHU8r-1KO2La6d5X1lNphX06Jp8r4pMJYSlX-3acBuaoFvp-BIt4q0dIluPJhwl0DU8MZpJo4xkercTJ0Doq8caLR83t_Zraq5vs7akMoNNzN6lYoIG311zej6C1/s400/DSCF0094.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">
We watched our boy go from no interactions - in fact we had to wait longer because him and his twin brother were born three weeks early so the smiles were even more delayed - to gradually learning to do so many things. In the first six years of his life we saw him learn to interact, to grab, to move, to talk, to walk, to form sentences, to handle cutlery, to run, to use the bathroom, to draw, to sing, to write, to be independent of us, to go to nursery, to go to school, to set the table, to read, to write stories, and so many more things. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">And then during the ages of seven and eight, we watched him gradually lose the ability to do so many of those things.
</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7T-ufNu4a2BN9Y1zzhe4vls76t-uaUqZjjaaN_2OJMgupPxRfeeYI2Stc2ezzh_F-hifLBGmAC7tsRQDgMTh3VxUi3sXFB-5OMoTcTbvqS4YWHuzcM7aPdyyLlxzazFa93CLttWusXwHzZNVrg9F0jg11eUNPvzGzVWPXRAIbMQPmQEssMA0yq0fN/s3648/October%202007%20117.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="3648" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7T-ufNu4a2BN9Y1zzhe4vls76t-uaUqZjjaaN_2OJMgupPxRfeeYI2Stc2ezzh_F-hifLBGmAC7tsRQDgMTh3VxUi3sXFB-5OMoTcTbvqS4YWHuzcM7aPdyyLlxzazFa93CLttWusXwHzZNVrg9F0jg11eUNPvzGzVWPXRAIbMQPmQEssMA0yq0fN/s400/October%202007%20117.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">
In the last few months, taking care of him was like having a newborn baby again. Except it was so much more rewarding than before because by then we knew him even more. We knew his quirks and his passions and his cheeky sense of humour. We were so grateful that although so many brain functions stopped working, they didn’t include his memory, personality or ability to communicate with us. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">We had the talks that we needed to have with each other and with the medical staff. If he never walked again, and had epilepsy for the rest of his life, and couldn’t use the bathroom independently, or wouldn’t be able to drive a car or have children or the other many unknown factors that still seemed years away, we would do whatever we needed to do to adapt our lifestyle so that we could meet his needs for the rest of forever. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Because we honestly got to the point where just getting to be with him was enough. We let go of all the expectations parents usually have for their child’s future and learnt to just be with him. Anything we got to do for him felt like a privilege, from spoon feeding him to following his instructions on what colour crayons he wanted us to use in his colouring books on his behalf. Whatever he needed, emotionally and physically, we would find a way of providing that. Our goal was this: to be his safe place. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">It might be the purest kind of love at all, because it’s completely unconditional. Even when he was on steroids to reduce inflammation, or on morphine after the pain of surgery, and the chemical imbalances in his body resulted in extreme mood swings and irrational outbursts, it didn’t diminish that love. That stuff may have exhausted our patience, stolen some joy, messed with our peace and produced reactions from us that weren’t always gentle or kind, but it probably only deepened our love because there were no expectations on his behaviour at all - just sympathy for what he was going through and deep respect for all the time he didn’t spend complaining about it. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">It had a knock-on effect on the other relationships around him too. Watching my husband learn to patiently walk through problems he couldn’t fix and see a greater tenderness for our sick child and his siblings increased my love and admiration for him too. He grew in his respect for me as he got a greater understanding of what it looked like to be a primary caregiver around the clock without another role to escape to. We loved our other kids with the same kind of patience and freedom from expectations that we’d learnt through caring for their brother. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">As cliched as it sounds, we valued the little things so much more because our lives had so many more of them in that season. When you can’t possibly plan for the future because there are too many unknown factors, you have to get all your hope and joy out of the day that’s in front of you instead. When a kid can’t possibly clean up after himself because he can’t leave the bed, but he notices someone clearing his food tray away and says thank you to them, that becomes a moment of heart-bursting pride. When you ask what he wants to do today and the only things he can manage are cuddles with you and listening to the audio of a movie because his eyes are too tired to stay open, you soak up that experience (and the little giggles that erupt every few minutes at the funny parts) because you’re not actually sure how many more of those days you’re going to get.</span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9EnJoHV0gPI1aUFKkxwmS3vWQ6EQ-ZkHACqje23H0TKKBf2C6xgRfMkYCv8h8eApqJygsABNV7lxs7PWesvfc-6YZqmMLsF47WkKhzHaup6T8ba2uz07Suj00oKPdzZzufrCacYbCsQhsEQpTXNhcSQe5taDcoYZhg30Qza_7PePGWYWuHqChTra2/s1371/Esther%20iphone%202011%201046.JPG" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1371" data-original-width="1371" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9EnJoHV0gPI1aUFKkxwmS3vWQ6EQ-ZkHACqje23H0TKKBf2C6xgRfMkYCv8h8eApqJygsABNV7lxs7PWesvfc-6YZqmMLsF47WkKhzHaup6T8ba2uz07Suj00oKPdzZzufrCacYbCsQhsEQpTXNhcSQe5taDcoYZhg30Qza_7PePGWYWuHqChTra2/s400/Esther%20iphone%202011%201046.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">
So as difficult as it is to have a family member who needs round the clock care, constant supervision, help with mobility and personal bodily functions, and many complicated medical interventions, it is also a very special thing to experience. I believe that God created us to be most fulfilled when we get to give love in its purest form. Seeing another person as God sees them, as wonderful, precious and full of value*, and serving them wholeheartedly**, may be the most divine actions we can do. Pressing pause on so many other things while taking the time to be alongside someone as they perform the most foundational actions that give and sustain life is an honour. It grounds you. It tunes you in to your own needs and feelings and slows you down to a gentle pace. It’s a special kind of duty that leads to a special kind of contentment. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">So much so that when we lost the object of that care and attention, we missed it so much. I was so grateful that our other children were still young enough to need us physically so we still had an outlet for that practical love. I remember the first night back at home after months in the hospital when Daniel no longer needed us because he was safe forever in the arms of God. I was wide awake all night because the adrenaline of the machine beeps and the clock watching and the hyper vigilance of the previous week still hadn’t left my system. So I was beyond grateful when my two year old suddenly started vomiting at midnight for no apparent reason, because then I knew what to do with all that nervous energy. I had a reason to hold her all through the night and comfort her and clean her and make her feel better. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Less than two years later, when it was my husband who lost the use of his legs and was unable to care for himself due to the tumours in his spine, he didn’t object when I stepped up to do that for him too. This big bear of a man, who had always dreaded being at the mercy of another person or being unable to be the one to fix problems for everyone else, was able to remember the feeling of being able to serve the most basic needs of a loved one. He let me have the honour of caring for him too. He recognised that it was a privilege for me, not a belittlement of him. He allowed me to have those moments because he knew how precious they would be later on when he was no longer around, and how it would add to the closeness of our relationship. In my mind, that’s a greater form of dignity than fighting for independence.
</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVFpCmpJ9Jz2sCRxk7HLRl66OADfZbzvv_OhvQlWNt1nfg7f-Ie1FClFZ0kMDPYuq7vOD2fc9Q7xJT0XFqsK5CsEgMy-FeQaCS3X_DKNPTCupUQgmjfr61SII_Qzy711aGsQ7-RuyJ8IXZO0DgY9gk8ZUeC8ygDVBkBJfhiHahNI72W0ehxOI3JhMu/s536/10372076_10152375631216539_1619949688984083022_n.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="536" data-original-width="536" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVFpCmpJ9Jz2sCRxk7HLRl66OADfZbzvv_OhvQlWNt1nfg7f-Ie1FClFZ0kMDPYuq7vOD2fc9Q7xJT0XFqsK5CsEgMy-FeQaCS3X_DKNPTCupUQgmjfr61SII_Qzy711aGsQ7-RuyJ8IXZO0DgY9gk8ZUeC8ygDVBkBJfhiHahNI72W0ehxOI3JhMu/s400/10372076_10152375631216539_1619949688984083022_n.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">
That brings me up to my life all these years later. Those lessons I learnt about serving someone at the most basic level have stayed with me and I’ve felt that whenever I’ve been able to connect with people right at their foundations, it’s when I’ve felt closest to God. I’m so grateful I’ve had lots of opportunities to meet people at their point of grief. I’ve had fantastic opportunities to minister with people in many different places when I share my story. I get to hear their stories of what has made them and broken them and healed them, and each one strengthens my connection with God and with each other. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Last year I began working as a support worker for people with complex needs. I have absolutely landed on my feet in a fantastic work environment with other staff that I really get along with, and hours that work really well with the rest of my responsibilities. As soon as I started, I realised that those interactive muscles of humanity were being set in motion again. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Every day when I’m at work I get to be alongside people who need support in the most foundational aspects of life. On those days I get to be the the first face they see when they wake up and the last face they see at night time. I get to make their personal hygiene routines fun by putting on music and making the ordinary motions of the day into an interactive game. I get to take them out to the park, to the beach, to the zoo, to the restaurant, and be the difference between them engaging in these activities or just staying at home. I get to read their moods, even when they have no verbal forms of communication, and dance around like a loon or give them the right amount of gentle reassurance or distract them away from a moment of tension, whichever one will turn a frown into a smile and make them feel safe again. I really think it might be one of the most fulfilling jobs in the whole wide world, and I’m so pleased that I get to do it. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">I am one of the lucky ones again. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i>*Psalm 139:13-14, Isaiah 43:4 & Philippians 2:3
**Matthew 25:34-40 & Mark 10:44</i></span></div>Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-87798575646147392232020-12-23T10:06:00.002+00:002020-12-23T10:06:29.145+00:00'Tis the Season to be Brave<p> <span style="font-family: verdana;">Last year we pottered along at Christmas, doing things the way we usually did. For my household, that's waking up together, opening stockings, then some presents, having cinnamon rolls for breakfast, going to church, having Christmas dinner at either my parents or my in-laws, then swapping for the afternoon and opening the relevant presents, and finally ending up at my brother's house in the evening with all my siblings for more presents and games till very late. This is why I never watch TV on Christmas Day - with five locations to be at and thirty people to see, it doesn't even feature.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">There was a moment last year though that was different to any we'd had before. We were at my brother's house at the end of the day and we'd swapped most of the presents and had all our "Oooo," and "Oh, wow, thankyou!" moments as we'd each opened our gifts. Then my sister and brother-in-law, who'd waited till last, started handing out theirs. The little kids got some fun toys. The adults got some vouchers for photo shoots. But the middle kids - the five high school and college aged cousins - got something different. They each had a frame with a different graphic and bible verse alongside it. They were really fantastically designed and a great gift anyway, but then Dave and Naomi came alongside each kid and started to speak over them to explain why they'd got it. The room fell silent as they told the first kid about how they'd prayed over them and what they felt like God was saying about them right now and about their future, and how the contents of their frame summed this up. They did this for each of the five kids, and by the end there were many tears shed in the room as we all looked at our kids/grandkids/nephews and nieces with new eyes, hearing what had just been spoken over them. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPr6jSCgB6TCzzQsr727KB3j3qs7tCD6Px6AUue_5h4_ucZ5DbRwmqikI8CFskJGdH-ggX8MiLOI7uVwn6wQsZHFXs_OQlb_GEw7TS1bWqKpGF0da8fvzCQv0a8WnMG2HATNPk2jWiUUo/s2048/image1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPr6jSCgB6TCzzQsr727KB3j3qs7tCD6Px6AUue_5h4_ucZ5DbRwmqikI8CFskJGdH-ggX8MiLOI7uVwn6wQsZHFXs_OQlb_GEw7TS1bWqKpGF0da8fvzCQv0a8WnMG2HATNPk2jWiUUo/w640-h480/image1.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I don't know how everyone in the room felt in that moment - at first, some may have been embarrassed at such a light moment taking such a serious turn, and may have felt awkward or confused, wondering what was going on - but I think it turned out to be the best moment of Christmas Day for most of us. I know my kids really appreciated it, and have kept their frames in pride of place this year, throughout bedroom swaps and even a move to university halls.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">It got me thinking after that about traditions and families and how easy it is to slip into doing the same thing all the time because you presume that if you break the mould and do something different, it might not go down well. From playing games through to stopping proceeding to pray over each other, each family has things they wouldn't have considered doing because it just wasn't their thing. But all traditions started somewhere. At some point, someone had to be bold enough to just go for it and see what happens - to risk some temporary awkwardness to do something that was significant to them.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO0Lq7AqlWPDETnuGPj4OkCNa6xFOo9yydedZKSqN4gHgw5J9QAstA3fHkU6VHXdVxSad-QjDyQ2uCG2gHSRBVUc2xVMBA8lrjCbX1_kddA1YmlpLLtFfsi2qaC4ss7W05nbQqN8FpgFw/s2048/image0.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO0Lq7AqlWPDETnuGPj4OkCNa6xFOo9yydedZKSqN4gHgw5J9QAstA3fHkU6VHXdVxSad-QjDyQ2uCG2gHSRBVUc2xVMBA8lrjCbX1_kddA1YmlpLLtFfsi2qaC4ss7W05nbQqN8FpgFw/w480-h640/image0.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">It might sound easy for me to say this because I'm from an extended family of Christians, where doing 'churchy stuff' is seen as normal. I do know though, that our own family has certainly changed and developed habits over the years that we wouldn't have considered a decade or more ago. On Boxing Day, when my dad's side of the family gather every year, I'm sure my memories as a kid are of us eating a huge dinner, opening presents and watching TV, and that was it. Then at some point we must've introduced singing together, and now we can't imagine our Boxing Days without it. We even have lyric sheets that we hand out to share. We also began introducing games, which meant there was no time for TV, and in order to facilitate our ever-growing numbers, we swapped the sit down roast dinner for a huge bring-and-share buffet which shared the load more equally between us.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Then there was a particularly rough year - maybe it was when one of us was critically ill, or my cousin needed a kidney transplant, or there had been a marriage breakdown, or one of the other many events that have shaken us over the years - and my Grandma just decided to share a bible verse and a few words with us. She got up and nervously asked for our attention, shared her thoughts and then prayed for us all as a family. It wasn't what we normally did, and we all froze and listened intently. And we really, really appreciated it, probably all the more because we felt what a brave thing it was to do. Those few shaky words turned out to be really powerful, and we encouraged her to do it again the next year. Now, like the Queen's speech, it's something we all expect to hear every Christmas, and we all relax into it and really enjoy it. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">This year, we all have no choice but to do things differently. People's Christmas routines all over the country will be disrupted and we won't be able to slide into the same comfy traditions as we normally do. So maybe this Christmas will be a great opportunity for all of us to do something we wouldn't normally do. In letting go of some of the usual ingredients, maybe there will be room to try something else that hasn't been done before. Maybe this Christmas or New Year will be our shot to break old habits and throw something unexpected into the mix to see how it's received. That seems to be the whole theme of 2020 anyway, right? </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Whatever you do, and whoever you end up with, I hope you have a fantastic time and end up loving one of the craziest Christmas seasons of our lives xx</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p>Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-77255345449138716732020-06-21T09:27:00.001+01:002020-06-21T09:38:13.354+01:00Fathers, Family and Future<font face="verdana">In the last three weeks, two of my great uncles died. They were 94 and 87 - extraordinarily great ages, and both had deteriorating health so it wasn't unexpected. The proximity of their deaths to one another was quite startling though, and it has marked the end of an era in our family. They were the last of seven siblings to pass away. </font><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div><font face="verdana">Their own father died before any of them hit teenage years. One sister had already passed away in childhood, and the remaining sister and five brothers had to work out their place in the world without him. I didn't get to meet my grandad, the youngest of them, as he also died when my father and his siblings were young. The other four brothers then, my great uncles, came to represent to me what he would've been like. </font></div><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRLfIfmSqhe5d6YwOEPG8-X3cw9IpJTX1qPS896q9Ag6-O9yxlzKJJUkuU6pYG83W2-xZD9oVXS9clE51TS-2c2D5rGpkJ01WdA2zy4cS3iUpWy6f3xmOBDMbdrB4PXvGfhgurGnn4INw/s4032/image0.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRLfIfmSqhe5d6YwOEPG8-X3cw9IpJTX1qPS896q9Ag6-O9yxlzKJJUkuU6pYG83W2-xZD9oVXS9clE51TS-2c2D5rGpkJ01WdA2zy4cS3iUpWy6f3xmOBDMbdrB4PXvGfhgurGnn4INw/s320/image0.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><font face="verdana"><br /></font><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div><font face="verdana">They were hard working, family centred men who spent most of their lives farming and ministering at their local churches. Dependable, solid, with cheeky senses of humour - pillars of the community type people. On the farms they worked on and the churches they served in, they created places that were safe and open, that welcomed and encouraged younger people to feel seen and equipped to do something valuable with their lives.</font></div><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div><font face="verdana">Here they are at some point in the 1960s with their wives, mother and sister, before my grandad died. Uncle George and Uncle John are the two who most recently passed.</font></div><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8fpkefQyZqxmkAfqXAPNkHCDlej0FE6caUorGgqh9Laxx_M9m3_v7T46dp7bo2b1fELNFuhF0Pefct7bpx-1foXkqX4u5aA2qOeHY43HqYTrTkkKDB9a9Dp1WPHHAw1D2GFld2c24ANE/s3671/image1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2755" data-original-width="3671" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8fpkefQyZqxmkAfqXAPNkHCDlej0FE6caUorGgqh9Laxx_M9m3_v7T46dp7bo2b1fELNFuhF0Pefct7bpx-1foXkqX4u5aA2qOeHY43HqYTrTkkKDB9a9Dp1WPHHAw1D2GFld2c24ANE/s320/image1.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div><font face="verdana">These pictures are from a book that the oldest brother Bill wrote in 2004. I'm so glad we have this record of our family history. As I revisited it this week to remind myself of their story, I came across the names of two other men, long gone and whom I know nothing else about.</font></div><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div><font face="verdana">These were Richard Atkinson and Will Hodgson and they're important to me because they set my family on a path over a century ago that is still having an impact today. Richard Atkinson was was a minister up in Sedbergh in the mid-19th century and was instrumental in a revival movement up there (when many people become Christians all at once). This incuded a couple called William & Elizabeth Dawson, whose daughter Isabella was my great grandmother. Will Hodgson simply worked alongside my great-grandfather on a farm when he was a teenager and his behaviour and faith had such an impact on James Parkinson that he began to attend the Methodist Church and became a Christian.</font></div><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div><font face="verdana">If these men hadn't been ministering in the way they did more than a century ago, my great grandparents may not have chosen to walk in the Christian faith. If they hadn't, James and Isabella wouldn't have been at the Fylde Christian Convention* where they met in 1920. Even if they had still somehow found each other and had children, they wouldn't have brought them up in the wider church environment that became their foundation, and that generation wouldn't have had the same outlook on family and faith. The next generation (22 survived into adulthood) were all raised in church and so their early social years revolved around church and most of them met their future partners there. By my calculations, they went on to parent 55 children, and so far there are something like 35 great-grandchildren in my own kids' generation - numbers start to get hazy at this point. </font></div><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div><font face="verdana">Whether you believe in God or not, there is no doubt that for all these family members, they have been given the best potential foundation for life by the choices that were made by the generations before. In the midst of our wider story, there have been many rebellious teenage years, some children who have been born unexpectedly, marriages that have broken down, some who have chosen not to make Christianity the centre of their life - there has been freedom to choose the same path or a different one from the generation before. There have also been an extraordinary amount of preachers and leaders, missionaries who have travelled the world to make it a better place, people who have chosen to step-parent and adopt children into the family, business owners, charity workers and community builders. I feel that my family is a people of door-openers, always seeking ways to encourage and include other people, creating community where others can thrive at the same time as leading our own households.</font></div><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div><font face="verdana">Biologically, spiritually and relationally, these men pictured above were fathers. That choice to invest in church and family has had wide-spreading impact. Creating safe spaces for people to flourish in is something we can all work towards. It doesn't matter if we are in the fourth generation of a solid faith-filled family, or if we are the ones starting a new legacy afresh. The story of my family probably isn't that common - it's pretty unusual for one family to get so large in just four generations, and for almost all of them to still live locally and still be actively invested in the same faith as their great-grandparents. But it does give hope that the relationships we are invested in today can have unlimited potential for the future. I wonder how many people rejected Richard Atkinson and Will Hodgson when they were spreading the message God had put on their heart. I wonder how tired my great grandma, and then my own grandma, became of getting six young children to church every Sunday morning by themselves. There were probably many times they thought all their effort was going to come to nothing.</font></div><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div><font face="verdana">We have no idea how we are changing the lives of people who haven't even been born yet, with the way we are living our lives and the message we are communicating to one another. When we get the opportunity to father and mother and befriend other people, we should take it. Let's be community builders and door openers for other people, because it is so worth it.</font></div><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div><font face="verdana">We won't know the full impact of our own story while we only see things from our own perspective but I'm looking forward to the same heavenly "Well done" that Uncle John, Uncle George and all the rest of the family that have passed so far have received.</font></div><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div style="text-align: center;"><font face="verdana"><i><b>Let us not grow weary in doing good, </b></i></font></div><div style="text-align: center;"><font face="verdana"><i><b>for at the proper time we will reap a harvest </b></i></font></div><div style="text-align: center;"><font face="verdana"><i><b>if we do not give up.</b></i></font></div><div style="text-align: center;"><font face="verdana"><i>Galatians 6v9</i></font></div><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div><font face="verdana">*The Fylde Convention took place at Inskip Baptist Church which is a really special place for our family because it is the final resting place for many of them, including my son and husband. It was only when I revisited the book this week that I realised that this was also the place where our family's story began.</font></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-21308882023432899912020-05-24T15:50:00.001+01:002020-05-24T15:58:18.095+01:00Six Years<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We were walking in the park today. This is our lockdown normal, to do big walks together on a Wednesday and a Sunday, and we can all chose on the other days. You would've hated lockdown, by the way. It would've been like living with a caged animal. Fortunately for this chapter, the kids have become more like me in the last few years and are all handling the introversion really well. Sorry about that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I have moments where I look at our lives and give myself permission, just for a few minutes, to imagine what it would be like for you if you suddenly stepped back into it. It gives me a buzz to imagine you looking at your four kids and how big they are and how much they've changed since you last saw them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I was watching the two oldest ones in their trackies and t-shirts with their hands in their pockets, heads together discussing something and laughing, thinking how crazy it is that they are making their own decisions about the next chapters of their lives right now. Of all the stages of their childhood, this has been the weirdest one for me because I can't get in the heads of teenage boys and figure out what makes them tick. Working out the line between how much to still guide and how much to let go of is way more complicated than when they were younger. I'm pretty sure if you were still here there would be huge clashes of will between you and them, but I'm also sure they would have so much more life skills right now because you were so active all the time and so determined to find practical solutions for things. You would definitely have taken them more places and they would've experienced way more stuff. You were so good at opening up the world for people and helping them experience more than they knew was possible. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I was thinking about our twelve year old who is so confident and friendly and emotionally mature and how you would be bursting with pride at how well he is facing every challenge life throws at him. He's so much fun to be around, with the best sense of humour and a fantastic instinct for how other people are feeling. </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He's at a prime age for adventure and wanting to experience new things - you two would be having a blast putting some of his ideas into reality. You'd be telling him every day to keep making great choices and not to be like you but to stay on track and not get persuaded by anyone to do stupid things. And he'd be listening too. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And if you knew your daughter now, you would learn a lot about yourself. She would mirror back to you your compulsiveness, creativity and what it's like living alongside a whirlwind. You'd love it. She wouldn't have you a pedestal any more, mind you - it's easier to be the perfect parent when she only remembers the good stuff and you haven't been the one trying to harness her energy in the right direction for six years - but I think she'd still have you wrapped around her little finger. And you'd back me up when her brothers complained about her singing because you'd love the sound she brings into our house and how much beauty she radiates in the middle of the chaos she's created around her. Maybe you could tidy up after each other's unfinished projects.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And looking at Barkley makes me laugh because of all the times you asked for a dog and told me about puppies you'd seen at the farms where you worked, and even pretended you'd brought one home with you. I kept dashing your dreams of a bulldog that sat in your van next to you every day for work, because I said I had enough responsibilities to think about already, and you were always doing spontaneous day trips and changing our plans at the last minute and talking about us moving to another country, so what would we do with a dog in the kind of life you wanted to lead? In the end, getting a puppy was both an acknowledgement that the pace of my new life was unrecognisable from the old one, and a huge bribe to distract the kids from the life I uprooted them from when we moved. So really, it was you or the dog. I could never had had both.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It's not easy to think about all of that, but it does make me take a big breath in and think about how far we've come. We're doing okay. It's not always fair of me to imagine a world where you are still here, because in my head that world is near perfect and I know in reality it wouldn't be. I'm sure things would be better if you were still here, but you're not.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So after I've had my little indulgence of seeing the kids through your eyes, which makes me treasure the moment and see them with a new perspective, I tuck that thought away again. I think of the twelve, and ten, and six, and four years you had with them and how much of yourself you invested into them. Those are apparently the most important years anyway, and you absolutely bossed it, filling their emotional tanks up to overflowing. I couldn't have asked for a better start for them. And I also think about how without the 39 years you did have, they wouldn't even be here. Imagine if you'd never turned your life around. Imagine if you'd never trusted your future to God and we'd never met and got married. Or imagine if you weren't so determined to make up for lost time after your dark years - we might have made sensible decisions like waiting before having children, or stopping after the first three like we almost did. Those are the kind of shoulda woulda couldas that make me smile instead of cry.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And I think of where you are now. That's the best thought of all. While it seems unjust that you're missing so much of your children's lives and who they've become, I know that there's something even more incredible that you're experiencing. Our human brains cannot yet comprehend it, because we can't imagine anything greater than the gift of people we love. But I have absolute confidence that when we pass from this life into the next one, our breath is taken away at the unfolding of wonders we could never have imagined. I think it will be like waking up from a dream where what has just passed seems fuzzy and smaller and less painful and less wondrous than it seemed at the time and our minds will comprehend that everything is different than we thought it was. We will know completeness and joy and perfection that will both make us forget what has passed and finally make sense of it all at the same time. And so I can't regret that you're not here, because in some ways you are experiencing life, and our children's life, and my life, more completely than you would be if you were here. Honestly, I can't wait to be there too. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">1 Corinthians 13v12</span></div>
Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-49056178421371350592020-05-07T15:54:00.003+01:002020-05-07T19:54:56.326+01:00D is for Disrupted<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">It is rare that every one of us in the world is going through crisis at the same time. Usually if some people are having their worlds turned upside down, they are staring uncomprehendingly out of the window at other people who are still living a normal life like nothing happened. But right now we are all facing disruption. Not one of us is unaffected by the global impacts of Corona virus.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-0361a419-7fff-8d42-0e4e-872b5b07de33" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">As it has been pointed out though, even if we are all in the same storm, we are not all in the same boat. There are many different extremes already. Some are having to queue at the shops for longer and finding there is still no flour or pasta; others have had their world broken by grief at the loss of one or more members of their family. Some have no fear that their low income will still keep coming and are actually saving money by being at home; some business owners are looking at their home and belongings and wondering how much longer they and their employees will be able to keep paying their mortgages. Some people’s mental health is plummeting as they feel trapped, uncertain and unable to use their normal coping mechanisms; others are thriving with the much-needed pause this crisis has given them, and are able to take stock of what really matters and spend more time connecting with the ones they love.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Disruption means different things to different people. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">We mustn’t underestimate the power of disruption in our lives. We can rationalise it, explain things to ourselves, understand why things had to happen the way that they did, and remind ourselves that ultimately everything is going to be okay, but our emotions and our subconscious will often react in ways we cannot initially control. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">The biggest disruption in our house has been the cancellation of exams, meaning that the educational journey for all Year 11s and 13s came to an abrupt halt. So for two of my children who were building up to their final months in high school and in college, they had two days notice that their courses were all over. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Logically this should have been fine. It was about to come to an end anyway, right? They both knew they weren’t staying in those places forever. They had both already planned what they were going to do next. But the abruptness of this disruption affected us beyond logic. It felt like an extremely unfair blow had been dealt and some vital life experiences had just been ripped away. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Those first 48 hours were an absolute shock. Whatever I did, from constantly checking news updates, to getting all the freshly washed school uniform out of the machine, to opening the fridge and realising how much extra food we were going to need for lunches, was another lurch towards a totally unexpected new future. On the last morning when my alarm went off, I rolled over and grabbed my phone to check the trains were running on time as I always did, and I suddenly felt winded as I thought, “This is the last day you’re ever going to have to do this.” </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Let’s be clear: we were counting down towards the day when my 16yo didn’t need to leave the house every morning at 7:20 to get the two trains which may or may not get him to school on time an hour and a half later. I couldn’t wait to be done with the expense and hassle of those daily journeys. But it was part of who we have been in this season. The last two and a half years have been hallmarked by early morning train journeys, and the effort we put into making sure he got to school every day had all been for a purpose: to get him to successfully pass his GCSEs. I know school is about more than that, but that was the goal that kept us on track. Then *poof* the goal has gone. And your brain, your focus, your routine </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">doesn’t know what to do with that</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">When I think about goals, from successfully passing exams through to hoping that treatment will be the cure for someone’s illness, I think about all the disruptions we have to face in order to achieve that goal. Getting up in time to leave the house at 7:20 every morning is a long series of disrupted sleep in order to get the best education available to you. Leaving work for a few hours or days or weeks to go and get chemotherapy and dealing with its after effects is disrupting every area of your life with the goal of getting better. Choosing to disrupt your evenings to do church stuff is laying down your personal preference of that day in order to build something greater.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">While we have the focus of the goal, all these minor disruptions are worth it. We find peace, energy, self-discipline and even joy as we willingly choose to let go of one thing in pursuit of something better. It gives meaning to every choice we make. We don’t realise the hundreds of subconscious feelings we have overridden in order to make all of this possible. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">This explains why when those huge disruptions come, not the ones that change a little bit of our daily routine, but the ones that actually mean we can no longer achieve the goal we were focusing on, our emotions can feel like they are combusting in on themselves. When our goals die, part of us dies with it because we invested so much into it. Our mindset, our lifestyle and our investments have circled around something that no longer exists.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Where do all those things go now? Where is the centre of our focus? What do we do with all that energy we’d produced for and received from that goal? At the best our journey has ground to a halt in the middle of nowhere, at the worst all that energy has exploded into a devastating impact, like a train against a wall. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">I am not a sciency person at all but I am told that energy cannot just disappear. It has to go somewhere. And so it does - and often the place it goes to is back into ourselves. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">That nervous sensation in your body, that restless mind, the swirling thoughts, the activity that means you hop from one thing to another - that’s all the energy you were evenly distributing to the meaningful activities in your day until you were interrupted. It charges round your mind and your body in erratic waves and stops you from settling on one thought or activity at a time. I’ve read that at points of crisis, your brain literally redistributes its capacity to some areas instead of others, meaning your nerves - the fight or flight instinct - are aroused and on high alert and the long-term processing parts that love to dream ahead, focus on the future and come up with long term strategies, have all their power syphoned off to other areas. This explains an inability to sleep (because your defences are on high) even though you feel absolutely exhausted (because your brain is processing thoughts at about ten times the normal speed).</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Is it any wonder that disruption makes us feel like we’ve totally lost control?</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">The good news is that in about three days after the news in our house, we were able to channel the energy into other things. We celebrated the gift of extra time, and put our energy into finishing coursework, doing jobs around the house, and finding a new routine. We talked a lot about what we felt we’d missed out on, how we felt, and what surprised us the most. I suspect compared to most people’s situations, we bounced back pretty quickly in this situation, and we’re doing more than okay now.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">But I know for some people it is taking much longer than three days to recover from this disruption. And it has not always been my experience to bounce back so quickly. There are some disruptions that go far deeper than finishing school earlier than planned or not seeing friends for a while. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">There are some disruptions that change the course of your life so dramatically that we do not even recognise our lives from that point onwards. Our brains have no ability to cope with the many many changes thrust on it all at once, so it does the best thing it can do in that time, and that is to shut down parts of it for longer periods of time. I think this is the medical definition of shock, and it manifests itself in so many different forms that we wouldn’t always call it that. We can stop functioning in many ways that used to come easily to us, and so we feel like we’ve not just lost our job, or our business, or our family member, or the project we were invested in, but we’ve also lost huge parts of ourselves. Short term memory, concentration, enthusiasm, communication, rationalisation, forward thinking - the list can be endless. Onlookers don’t understand why we can’t just do these seemingly unrelated things in the same way we used to, and neither do we. It’s part of the isolation that comes from living in Plan D*. We feel distant from the people around us, and from the person we used to be.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">But friend, I want to remind you that the energy doesn’t just disappear. It’s always around, in some form or other, and all that needs to happen is to rediscover it. If you had creative ideas once and now you feel completely uninspired, it doesn’t mean that you are now uncreative. In fact, it may mean you’ve been putting all your creative energies into self-protection strategies without realising it. Some of the most creative people in the world are those who can anticipate negative circumstances so vividly that they subconsciously channel all their energy into imagining the worst outcomes and finding ways to protect themselves from them. Some of us that used to be perpetually happy have faced disappointments that mean we now get busy finding things that frustrate us and putting all our focus on those things instead, because we misguidedly think that it’s easier to be in control that way. I went for a long time keeping people at arm’s length not because I lacked compassion for them but because all my energy was going into self-preservation instead. I thought I found other people exhausting, but it was actually the sustenance of keeping my guard up that was draining me. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">So please take the time to appreciate just how big an impact that disruption can have on your mental and emotional state. You don’t need to ignore it or get over it or beat it into submission. Instead, explore it, name it, figure out exactly what impact it has on every part of you. And when you’ve done that for a few hours or days or weeks, allow yourself to explore what comes after it. Which parts of you still need to heal? Which parts of you are crying out to be reactivated after a break from using them? What thoughts are still huge in your mind, and do you want to take them forward with you or do you want to go through the process of changing them into thoughts that are going to serve you better? </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">If you get impatient with the process, go back to the train analogy. Whether it slowed to a halt or dramatically crashed, you found yourself in a place you weren’t intending as your destination. You may have felt like your whole life was on that train, if it represented your career or your relationship or something else of high value to you, but the train wasn’t your actual destination. If that train is now irreparable, it’s no longer taking you anywhere. So you have to walk away from it to find out where you are, what you need next, and what you’re going to find to replace it so you can keep going. However, walking is a lot slower and more painful than sitting on a train, so you’re going to have to put up with some discomfort for a while. But there is more. The destination still exists. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">D is for Destination. It’s up to you to figure out what that is (for me I’ve defined that as fulfilling God’s purposes for my life) and what direction, no matter how slowly, you are moving in to get there. You’re not done yet, you just need time.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Be glad, people of Zion,</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">for he has given you the autumn rains</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"> because he is faithful.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">He sends you abundant showers,</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"> both autumn and spring rains, as before.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">The threshing floors will be filled with grain;</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"> the vats will overflow with new wine and oil.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">“I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Joel 2v23-25</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">* Plan D is how I’ve described life when you feel like it’s gone really far off the course you thought it was going - it’s not even Plan B or C, but much more complicated than that. This blog explores the different emotions and processes that go alongside that.</span></div>
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Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-40846920456858568882020-01-01T14:04:00.000+00:002020-01-01T14:05:48.656+00:00Bible In One Year<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Last January I was chatting to someone who had had a really rough year. We were chatting about the tough situations she had faced, many of which were still not resolved, but at the end of the conversation, her face lit up. “There is one thing that I’m really proud of though,” she said, as she got out her phone to show me. “I managed to read the whole bible and never once missed a day, even with all that going on.” She showed me her bible app, with an unbroken streak of 365 days. As she told me about how much it had helped her cope with everything else that had happened, and how it had kept her perspective healthy, I felt inspired. She had every excuse to have not even tried that with the year she’d had, but it became one of her highlights. </span></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-c725441e-7fff-f35f-4bfe-72a3d5732ec4" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When I got home from church that afternoon, I thought “I want that to be me this time next year.” I couldn’t forget the joy in her face as she’d told me about it, and I realised it had been a long time since I’d read the bible from start to finish in one straight run. I’d tried a few times in the past, but had only successfully done it three times, and the last of those was over fifteen years ago. Usually, I studied the bible book by book, so I’ve probably covered the whole bible a couple more times that way, but it means that it’s been years since I read some of the books now. </span></span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It was already halfway through January, but while the inspiration was there, I threw myself into it, reading half of Genesis that afternoon. For the rest of the year I have played catch up but in a weird way that has helped me - starting from scratch means aiming for perfection, which is easily lost. Catching up and varying the amount I read each day somehow fitted better with my approach to things.</span></span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Here was my method this time: doing old and new testament alongside each other (for the sake of variety), roughly reading the books in chronological order rather than in the set canon (for the sake of continuity), and reading it freestyle, with no notes or commentaries alongside it (for the sake of simplicity).</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBeeRRQP20isnT4E8eT8PydkQxKHdFeq35ZT96Bcvge0WgMaUi1O-bqZ7XKF6gBAQYd-lfuJY28yJGrgYlyZAOVZH2f2wfbfhspeWjrAKS6-c7dgvym2pSUlwA-fQrEstDTYPoxqc0bQ/s1600/IMG_1662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBeeRRQP20isnT4E8eT8PydkQxKHdFeq35ZT96Bcvge0WgMaUi1O-bqZ7XKF6gBAQYd-lfuJY28yJGrgYlyZAOVZH2f2wfbfhspeWjrAKS6-c7dgvym2pSUlwA-fQrEstDTYPoxqc0bQ/s400/IMG_1662.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I love variety, and so it needed to be different to my current usual approach to bible reading. Since beginning bible journaling three years ago, I have been going slow and steady with individual books of the bible, using commentaries, a journal to write down thoughts and observations, and then adding lettering and colour to the pages to meditate on specific verses that meant the most to me as I studied it. This method means each book of the bible has taken me weeks or months to finish. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRQSw_1bRNxgMYbAPtyB56xoemuKTVJMXtaOvziE0btZ-dnPzOb-QnATZZUhItuSb8vNVHKQY_or0dRGoEhWatcINPdwY_ervx3VnJCDKyQ_R0vF60m6NqwY1E55EVPVPwjuTXG7WEJEc/s1600/IMG_0350.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRQSw_1bRNxgMYbAPtyB56xoemuKTVJMXtaOvziE0btZ-dnPzOb-QnATZZUhItuSb8vNVHKQY_or0dRGoEhWatcINPdwY_ervx3VnJCDKyQ_R0vF60m6NqwY1E55EVPVPwjuTXG7WEJEc/s400/IMG_0350.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So to get through it in a year, I got a spare bible off the shelf. It was a free one I’d been given at a conference (which actually had quite a few printing mistakes in it!) I knew it wasn’t one I’d come back to over and over again, so it didn’t matter what it looked like at the end of the process. </span></span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I began a messy bible journaling process, where I just wrote what stood out to me as I read it. With a variety of different biros over the year, I underlined, circled and scrawled alongside the text. With highlighters that bled through, I used a system to help me remember what to focus on as I went:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Green: God’s voice, for instruction, encouragement and promises</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Pink: God’s voice for warning or consequences</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Blue: whenever the Holy Spirit was mentioned</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Purple: Human reactions and choices, good and bad</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Orange: Cross-referencing (where one part of the bible is also mentioned somewhere else)</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Yellow: Miscellaneous - anything else that has grabbed my attention that doesn’t fit into the other categories.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFD5PuMQM0Up83O2Y_os0mBDPEpDRqnSKYy2ZdrTBen6yxsJ9thFsMJHzWW7SbH9whq9m1oYw6tiYfX-mvh7BjeLT15RKdl8zJFw4iomYoeiMBZdEBp6TQ_K1OLZ1bnnUWe3kfZKVV98/s1600/IMG_1665.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFD5PuMQM0Up83O2Y_os0mBDPEpDRqnSKYy2ZdrTBen6yxsJ9thFsMJHzWW7SbH9whq9m1oYw6tiYfX-mvh7BjeLT15RKdl8zJFw4iomYoeiMBZdEBp6TQ_K1OLZ1bnnUWe3kfZKVV98/s400/IMG_1665.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I found that having particular questions in my head as I made my way through, like “What does the voice of God sound like?”, “What does the Holy Spirit do?” and “How do people pray?” helped me to keep looking for certain things as I made my way through.</span></span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There are so many ways to read through the bible in a year now, including the YouVersion app that my friend used, or listening to it on an audio app. I know my own concentration ability, and I don’t seem to remember what I’ve just read or heard without a pen in my hand. When I interact with words by underlining or adding colour, it seems to connect with different parts of my brain, and makes the information sink in. It really worked for me.</span></span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Last time I read through the bible, I used a slightly different method: after every chapter I tried to sum up what I’d read in about two lines. It was a great way to make me think about what I was reading instead of blanking out.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There were many points this time when I didn’t think I’d be able to do it in a year. I thought a few times that maybe I’d be better aiming to do it over 18 months or two years. That would’ve been fine - the point is to do it after all, rather than not doing it - but the thing that kept me going was imagining myself in the final week of December, and the satisfaction of being on the home stretch, knowing that I’d pushed myself to do it.</span></span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And here it is - the final moments of Revelation! I am SO glad I’ve done it. I’ve learnt so much and felt like it’s spoken into my life even doing it at speed. Sometimes I found on a Sunday in church I was worshipping all the more because of the fresh thoughts about God that were in my head from what I’d read that week. So if you’re thinking of reading through the whole bible this year, I hope this image will help you to keep going, just like the conversation with my friend did for me.</span></span></div>
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<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-140724042661676612019-11-29T00:40:00.003+00:002019-11-29T00:42:12.678+00:00A True Love Story<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once upon a time there was a fantastic kingdom run by a king and queen. They looked after this kingdom every day, tending to its produce, helping its people and serving one another. The castle where they lived was near the source of the river, and this river brought life to the rest of the kingdom. Fields were irrigated by its streams, and every household had easy access to its water for washing, drinking and cooking. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">One day a man was riding in the forest to the north of the kingdom when he came across a pool of water. He stopped to refresh himself and then realised that there was someone else nearby. He spotted a fair maiden sat by the pool, looking at him. She seemed very distressed. </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“What can I do for you?” he asked in concern.</span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I am so lonely,’ the maiden answered. “I need someone to help me but I’m all alone.”</span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The man’s heart went out to her. He came alongside her and offered his help. </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">She began to tell him of the many woes that had happened in her life. She had come under great attack and was now living in fear of another. She was abandoned by all and now lived in this small woodcutter’s cottage by this pool. </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The man’s heart was large and he was determined to do something for this woman who needed it. He pledged to himself that he would find a way to help her.</span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The next day the man came back to the pool and found the woman still there. She had food and she shared it with him. They talked again, for such a long time. She told him of foes who had destroyed her happiness, of family who had betrayed her, and of dragons whose dominion she lived under.</span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The more the man listened, the more he dreamed. He imagined himself finding her foes and serving them justice. He saw himself finding her family and demanding back what was rightfully hers. And his hand twitched on the hilt of his sword as he fantasised about slaying the dragon who was causing her so much distress.</span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Soon, visiting the maiden became the focus of his daily activities. Together they would sit by the pool and they would talk about her obstacles, and his valour. She would share the food she had with him, and they would drink water from the pool.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">His heart yearned so strongly for her that he felt as though a fever had overtaken him. Nothing else in life brought him pleasure anymore. As he rode through the rest of the kingdom, it seemed less delightful than it had once had done before. The grass seemed less green, the flowers less colourful, the people less friendly. He was no longer interested in his duties as he had found a loftier purpose in his life. </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Being with her reminded him of when he was younger, when vanquishing enemies had been his chief purpose, and how he had loved the thrill of chasing down dragons. He wondered why he had allowed other responsibilities to distract him away from this, and his heart yearned to return to the pool every day as quickly as he could. </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Always she would greet him with delight. She would feed him richer and more exotic foods as the days passed. They would talk and tell stories about her trials and his bravery. He would describe in great detail about how he would slay her dragon so she could be free. They lay by the pool and went on a thousand journeys together in their imagination.</span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Eventually one day she gave him her most precious possession. She reached in and gave him her heart. He took it willingly, and wanted in exchange to give he his own. </span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But when he went to take his heart to give to her, he found that it could not be removed. He tried and tried with all his might, even when he feared it may be scratched and bruised beyond repair, but it could not be given. It remained steadfastly whole and unyielding. </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He went back to his home that night and he was sad. He could not understand why he could not give the maiden the one thing he had wanted to. As he climbed the steps to the castle, and into his royal chambers, he was listless and distracted. As he got into bed, as he did every night, he saw that once again the queen was asleep before he arrived. He removed his crown, lay down beside her and dreamt of the beautiful maiden.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The next day the king and queen attended to their royal duties. He was distracted and sad; she was tired and busy. She showed him the growing list of needs within the kingdom. He accepted the responsibilities as he knew he must but secretly he was growing to despise them. They brought him no joy. As they went their separate ways to fulfill their royal tasks, he began to count down the hours until he could return to the clearing in the woods, and the water in the pool. Never had the problems of the kingdom seemed so arduous, the landscape so dull, the people so dissatisfactory. </span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">On things went that way, day after day. He would spend more time by the pool and less time in the kingdom. He tried over and over to remove his heart but it would not relinquish. Instead, they played lazily with hers. They fed on the rich food that appeared every day at the woodcutter’s cottage, and they stared into the green pool as they created a future for themselves elsewhere. Each night he would come home to the castle, and fall into bed beside the exhausted queen.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">One morning, he rose from his bed and prepared for the day. He steeled himself to receive the list of kingly responsibilities from his queen, but found her in their chamber empty handed. She was doubled over in the bed.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“What’s the matter?” he asked with concern.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Through gasps of pain, she raised her head.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I can’t do it anymore,” she told him. “It hurts too much.”</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In answer to his silent confusion, she turned and she showed him her heart. With a start, he realised it was covered in scratches and bruises.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“It’s been hurting for so long,” she said, “and I don’t understand why.”</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He was indignant with rage and vowed to find out who was responsible for this.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“But dear,” she said to him with tears in her eyes. “It cannot be someone else. My heart belongs to you.”</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He stumbled back in horror, as he recalled the attempts he had made over the past months to dislodge what was in the core of his being. He looked down at the heart within his own chest, unblemished, strong and somehow bigger than it had once seemed to be. </span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I need you to tell me what has happened,” said the queen.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And, undone by the sight of her pain, he told her the truth about the pool, the maiden and the dragon he had committed to slaying for her. As he spoke, the heart within his chest flooded with a pain so great he thought he wouldn’t be able to stand it.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He stood in order to leave the room. </span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Where are you going?” asked the queen.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“To her,” he said. “It’s over for me here now that you know the truth. She needs me, and I have promised to rescue her. I cannot break my vow.” </span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The queen rose and stood alongside him.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I need you,” she whispered, “and you are already promised to me.”</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And she began to recount her own tale. She reminded him that once upon a time, she was a princess trapped in her own struggles. She had watched a brave prince who fought real dragons and warded away foes and proved himself brave and true. He had come to her offering everything he had, and in return she had seen his wounds, his fears and his weaknesses and she had reached out to heal him. Together they had faced battles, defeated enemies and built a beautiful kingdom where other people could flourish and find life.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">She opened the curtains so he could see the extent of their kingdom from the tower.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">For the first time he saw how the river was running so low that people had to walk much further to collect water for their households. He saw that fields of crops were withering from drought, and that the grass had turned brown. </span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He thought of the clearing in the woods with its lush green grass and the increasingly green pool of water. </span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“How can I stay,” he asked, “when the kingdom is failing around me?”</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The queen crossed the chamber and brought him to the window on the other side. High up on the hill behind the castle, the king saw that the source of the river, once flowing freely, was blocked. The water was no longer streaming in the direction it should have been, and as he looked again, he realised why. It was his duty to maintain the land belonging to the castle, especially the source of the river. In his passion for the lonely maiden, he had neglected his royal duties and the land was beginning to starve. </span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I need you,” she whispered again, “and your kingdom needs you.”</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“How can I carry on here?” he cried. “I have ruined everything and I am not fit to be king. I am the greatest fool that ever lived.”</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He tore off his crown and fell to the ground in remorse.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The queen picked up the crown and brought it to his prostrate body.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You are not a fool,” she said, “you are a king. You are not a knight in shining armour, you are the husband of the queen. You are a vanquisher of foes, a provider for the kingdom, a protector of the people, and a slayer of dragons. This crown belongs to you, if you choose to remain.”</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As she spoke, he felt the heart within his chest grow so large he thought it would burst.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“But how can you ever love me now?” he wondered aloud. </span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Because I have received the gift of forgiveness,” she told him, “and I am choosing to give that gift to you.”</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And as he looked as the queen, her beauty seemed so glorious, so powerful, and so overwhelming, it was as if he saw her truly for the first time in his life. He saw her strong arms that had been carrying water for the people, her fingernails that had dug deep to help bring in the produce of the land and her radiant face that was lined where her smile had brought joy to all those who looked up to her. The memory of the pool, the woodcutter’s cottage and the fantasies that had filled his mind for months paled as he took in the woman stood by his side.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">That day, their reunion was complete. As he confessed every imperfection without restraint and received her forgiveness, he watched as the bruising on her heart faded and the scratches softened in their harshness. He set about that very day on clearing the debris from the river source and on rebuilding the banks of the river. </span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Over the next few months he stood alongside his queen as they served the people together and they saw the land grow green and flourish again. Wholeness returned to the kingdom and the queen’s scarred heart grew stronger and larger day by day. </span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
</span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In time, she bore the king a son and there was great celebration in the land at the arrival of this prince who would know the power of love and forgiveness all the days of his life.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And by the pool in the clearing in the forest, the maiden waited longingly for the man who would never return to her. Early each morning before she rose from the cottage, the woodcutter would come and put out new food ready for her to eat that day. And as he passed by the abandoned heart, he would carefully clean it and tenderly return it to the door of the cottage, waiting and hoping for the day when it might once again become his.</span></span></div>
Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-28089771160122735942019-07-18T13:48:00.001+01:002019-07-18T13:49:21.108+01:00D is for Different<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Today is my fortieth birthday. It might just be me, but when I was a kid, I never once thought about what it would be like to be this age. I could imagine being in my twenties, and all the milestones of life you think you’re probably going to achieve by the time you’re thirty, but after that it all feels like some distant fog that won’t really matter because you’ll be really old by then.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The first time I thought about turning forty was on my thirtieth birthday. We had hired a hall so we could have a party and I was setting up tables and things and looking at my brood of crazy boys running around, trying to make sure they didn’t lead the youngest one out into the car park. I remember a very distinctive flash of the future suddenly passing through my thoughts, and I held onto it for a moment. I imagined what it would be like to do this again in ten years time.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I started at the thought that my oldest boy would almost be an adult by then. What on earth would it be like to be a mother to an actual man? It seemed so far off and unimaginable. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I thought about having two almost sixteen-year-olds, probably towering over me by then, with deep voices and all the different things that would occupy their minds as teenagers, so different to the disagreement those twin five-year-old boys were having right then over a plastic car.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And my baby, darting through everyone’s ankles faster than we could watch him, would be an eleven-year-old, the last one to leave primary school and about to start a new season at high school with his older brothers. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I wondered about the church we were in the second year of leading, and imagined a room full of faces I'd not yet met that we had impacted and drawn together - hopefully it would need to be a much bigger hall by then because there would be so many. Maybe Richard would have organised it as a surprise (even though so far he’d never been successful at keeping anything a secret from me) and there would be speeches by him and maybe from some of those towering teenage boys if they weren’t too self-conscious at that stage, and I would sit awkwardly with everyone looking at me, but it would also be lovely because of all the investment it represented from the past decade.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And that picture of the future passed from my mind, and I carried on chatting with people and making sure everything was ready.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">That picture has come back to my mind quite a few times in the last five years. It’s been one of the many elements of my life that I’ve had to sit with and examine and ask questions about why it mattered to me, then accept that it’s not going to happen, and let it go so I could find a new picture instead. I’m so glad that I’ve had fantastic resources that have helped me take these steps each time I’m faced with the challenge of discontentment. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Obviously, the three hugest elements of that picture are ones I’ve been dealing with for ages now. It’s been an almost ongoing process of letting go of that future that wouldn’t have one of those fifteen-year-old boys, my husband, and that specific body of people called Home Church in it. There’s been loads of scenarios I’ve had to unravel and rebuild in my mind, and this is just one.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The good news is, that for every expectation you let go of, you get to replace it with a positive actual reality. So, THAT </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">isn’t</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> going to happen, but THIS </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">is</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> happening, and that’s great too. It’s just different, and that’s okay. It was going to be different anyway - no-one can actually picture a scene in ten years time accurately! It’s just </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">more</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> different than I thought.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So here’s my new fortieth birthday reality:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I’m not having a party that someone else has organised, with lots of mingling time to sit around and make conversation, with speeches at the end where everyone is looking at me for my emotional reaction. The introvert in me sometimes doesn’t enjoy those kind of gatherings. I’m having a games day instead, where people will know what to do because there’s rules for the social interaction, and lots of choices of different things to do, and hopefully no one will feel awkward or left out because people can play games together if they know each other or not. And I’ve written a treasure hunt around the local area for anyone who wants to do it, because I like treasure hunts and other people might do too. I think I only pictured that other party for my fortieth because I thought that’s what people normally do for big birthdays.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Some of the people at that party ten years ago were people I already liked, but I had no idea just how much I would grow to love them over the next ten years. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My beautiful sister-in-law Beth was about to marry into our family the following month, and I couldn’t have imagined then some of the adventures we would go on together and the unexpected dramas we would carry each other through. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I remember chatting for a long time to my sister’s boyfriend about his family’s story, getting to know him more at that party, and thinking how amazingly encouraging and insightful he was. I didn’t know for certain (although I hoped!), that he would become my brother-in-law, and I certainly didn’t know he would become one of the people who would end up knowing me best, and one of my closest friends and greatest champions in the whole world.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I also didn’t know at the time how many complex and toxic situations were going on the lives of some of the people in that room, and how we were going to see God do extraordinary works to expose, release, turn around, and heal things that at some points we thought were impossible to fix. The new reality is far better than what was lurking under the surface ten years ago. They can’t be talked about on here but my faith and my relationships are better today than they were back then because of the miracles I got to see.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Today's reality is that I am part of a fantastic, friendly, thriving church that has fun as one of its core ingredients. It’s got a different name and location than the one I was in ten years ago, but it’s every bit as amazing as the church I envisioned being part of.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And of course, I had no idea back then that the reason I’d thrown up my breakfast that morning was nothing to do with nerves for the party that afternoon. Nerves like that don’t last for the next few mornings in a row. That turned out to be the hormonal effects of the new life growing inside me, someone I definitely didn’t imagine standing next to me on my fortieth birthday: my nine-year-old daughter. Of all the things in that picture, that’s the one thing I’m most glad is different to the way I imagined life to be right now.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">D is for different. And different is okay.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>The Lord gives and the Lord takes away: blessed be the name of the Lord</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Job 1v21</i></span></span></div>
Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-86773222483889662532018-12-31T11:49:00.003+00:002018-12-31T11:56:46.325+00:00D is for Darkness<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Last year we moved house in December. It was a pretty cold and snowy December, which made it awesome for the first morning when we woke up to snow in our garden for the first time ever. But for me that exciting moment was short-lived as the rest of the month, then the next month, and the next one, AND the one after that was full of more cold, ice and snow.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I’m not great with low temperatures anyway (I feel like it gets into all my muscles and makes me ache) but the other thing that really got to me was the darkness. I loved our new house but it felt for those first few months like we were in darkness for most of the time. The older boys were leaving for their train while it was still pitch black outside and arriving back as the sun went down again. I was struggling so much with fatigue that many daylight hours were spent asleep so I missed lots of light.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It was more than that though, it was a frame of mind. I had pinned a lot of hopes onto the move and I knew the whole process of undoing our old life and starting a new one would be tough. I couldn’t have imagined though that because of other events that were thrown into the mix in the months before we left, my mental health would spiral downwards so much. I really wanted it to feel like an exciting fresh start and I was so disappointed that so much of the grief and confusion of the last chapter couldn’t just have been bagged up and thrown away like the other possessions we chose not to bring with us. It felt like it had taken root deep inside of me and I wondered if there was anything I could do to change it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There were times in the middle of the night, and first thing in the morning as the alarm went off, that my mind would begin to sink downwards like it was hurtling towards a vortex of nothingness. It kept happening before I even had chance to work out what I was thinking. It was just a dark negative picture of who I was and how my life would always be and it felt like falling without ending into a big hole of nothingness. As that happened, every single negative thought I had about my past, present and future would rush into my head all at once. The friendship that had broken up years ago, the paperwork I was behind with, the ideas for the future that would now never come to pass. These things felt like massive, overwhelming giants that I alone had to face and something was telling me I’d invited them all in by not being enough in the first place. This carried on for weeks and it felt crippling. During the day I would do all I could to escape these thoughts by hiding in books or boxsets or documentaries. But as soon as it was dark they would come back again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Several months into this, I had a stupidly simple tiny revelation. I’d woken up panicking about something I hadn’t done but later that day had found the time to sit and work through. I can’t even remember what it was but it had weighed on me for ages and suddenly one afternoon it was completed and I realised it hadn’t been a big deal at all. This little voice inside me said, “You shouldn’t give yourself permission to think about this stuff when it’s dark outside.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I began to notice that all my downward spiralling happened when it was dark. My thoughts felt big and uncontrollable in the middle of the night when I was drifting in and out of sleep and could do nothing to change them. But in the light of day, nothing seemed as big or ominous. When I stopped buffering all my feelings with escapism and gave myself small pockets of the day to sit and think deeply about whatever was weighing on me, it looked completely different. I used different words to describe it and could usually find a way to solve whatever the issue was.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As soon as I felt those feelings in the dark, and my mind began to panic about something, I would make myself a promise and say, “You’re right, that needs dealing with. I’ll make some time tomorrow.” Trying to tell my frantic emotions not to worry about it at all wouldn’t have worked. But reassuring them that I would let myself think about it properly tomorrow, but only when it was light outside, gave my broken survival instinct a different pocket to fill. I saved my emotional buffering for the darkness (audiobooks were my favourite off-switch for my brain) then tried to use less of those crutches during the day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It was a slow gradual process but I have seen massive improvements. Those feelings of spiralling into darkness happen very infrequently now and when they do, I am able to hit pause faster. A few hours later, I can usually pinpoint where that feeling came from and look at it with fresh perspective. A bad moment can now be a bad moment instead of a permanent prophecy about my future. Doing this in the light minimises the problem and keeps it in proportion.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I have been studying the gospel of John all year (that says a lot about how many other things I’ve been using to distract myself in the meantime!) and right from the very beginning, the book is talking about light. People were walking in darkness, not seeing things properly, and into the world came light. Even though many people didn’t recognise it, Jesus is the light. He came to reveal things to people that they didn’t know. He came to show us the truth about how things really are - not what we have been told, or how we feel, or even what our experience has taught us, but what the real actual truth is. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When you have experienced the full weight of darkness and you begin to see light again, you want to chase after that with everything you have. No amount of weariness can stop you. I cannot find words to describe what these last few months have been like as I’ve seen the same areas of my life which I had written off become illuminated with new colours. It’s not something I could have done myself. It has only come from walking in the light. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">D is for definition: the true understanding of what something actually is. No guesswork or presumption, trying to fill in unknown gaps with wrong conclusions. It’s getting closer to something and seeing every aspect of it, gaining a deeper understanding and interpreting it correctly. The more I fill my mind with real truth, the more my feelings follow. </span></div>
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<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-8316639543660291952018-05-01T13:45:00.001+01:002018-12-31T12:01:23.349+00:00D is for Despondency <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Despondency: "depression of spirits from loss of courage or hope; dejection."</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Despondency is a killer. It kills dreams and ideas, leaves unrealised potential unrealised, and holds you back from doing things you used to love. It's the part of depression that stops you fighting back. You don't have the energy or the will, so you let it win because it has stolen your ability to do anything else. It's why it's such a shocker - you can't imagine it until you're in it. From the outside it looks ridiculous for those who are not experiencing it. 'Why don't you get out of the cycle? Go do something else? Stop looking at what you can't do and get on with what you can?'</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Last year despondency got its claws into me real deep. A combination of things happened all at once that together felt cataclysmic. I put down lots of responsibilities because I felt like it was the right thing to do, but it left me feeling bereft of purpose and feeling like so many of those things had been left incomplete (which in a negative mindset equals failure - admitting to yourself you're never going to finish the things you've invested a lot of yourself into). A lot of relationships changed last year. Some were gradual and necessary, just a gentle withdrawal of closeness in readiness for the next season. But there were some that were blown apart in the space of a few days and left me reeling. It felt like it was happening in every sphere of life and not just in one area or for one reason. Things shifted around me in ways I could never have predicted, and because my core group of church was one of those big changes, I wasn't sure who or what to grab hold of. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Then I found myself beautifully bundled up and dropped safely into a new space by the end of the year, which has been amazing, but with a complete lack of oomph inside of me. No willingness to do anything at all. Weary of investing into people, weary of beginning anything that might make me happy. Silently resisting any offering from God or anyone else that might require an ounce of energy or commitment from me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Even retreating to my constant place of refuge - the bible - felt too much. I had always held that sacred space dear and although it has never been my only space to retreat to (I spend far too long in other spaces that help me escape from the reality of my own world), it has always been my default position in every season so far. This time, I didn't want to hear anything God had to say to me. I was so disappointed in what He had allowed to happen, and the repayment I felt I'd received from my life's investments so far, that I quietly avoided being in any situation where I might have to have that conversation with Him. I was embarrassed to be feeling that way, but not ready yet to move on from it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">No man's land.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">After a few months of this, with the house move and Christmas in-between, I couldn't bear the thought of the new year being like the old year. But neither could I do any of the things I used to do. I didn't want to listen to a podcast or study a commentary or even draw in my journaling bible which I'd come to love so much. My brain was too tired to think about anything. I could only find enjoyment in passive activities that required zero attention or thought from me. I was secretly glad that because we got a puppy at Christmas we were required to stay in most of the time as he hadn't had all his injections yet. My places of refuge became TV, the internet, audio books (I didn't even have the mental energy to fully focus on words on the page) and the occasional board game so long as everyone was in a good mood and I didn't have to parent everyone through it. And many many too-long naps, at any time of the day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But alongside this, I did begin to open my bible again. I had no plan for it, not even a pencil in my hand to mark anything I might see. Honestly, my main motivation was the children. I have always wanted them to see that reading God's Word is part of my every day life in the hope they will one day choose to make it a normal part of theirs too. My other fear was that without it, I may spiral even further downwards, and I didn't know where we'd all end up if I did. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So I plonked it open at Genesis and began reading. Reading is actually too involved a word for it. I skimmed over the contents of each page, sometimes registering what it was saying, sometimes not, like a stroppy child obeying a parent with as least enthusiasm as possible. I didn't really expect to get anything out of it, but I reasoned that at least if it was open I stood more chance of allowing it to help me out than if it was entirely shut. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And that's all I did for the next few weeks. I didn't set myself goals of much or how often to do it, I just picked it up in the middle of whatever else the kids were doing in the lounge, and I did it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And unsurprisingly, because God is far more gracious that I am, it began to work. I began to thaw in the inside. Sometimes I would stop and pause and think about what I'd just read. I began to look forward to reading it a little bit. I walked alongside all these other characters in the bible who had had their world turned upside down and faced their own shares of disappointment. I noticed again how long it was between God promising something and people seeing the fulfilment of that promise. It was a really long time, but He always fulfilled it. I remembered stories I had forgotten and saw people make stupid decisions and have bad attitudes like my own bad attitude, but God worked in their life anyway. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">By the time I got to Judges, curiosity got the better of me. I began lingering over the stories and talking to God about them, saying "What the heck? Why did they behave that way? Why did you allow that to happen? What was the plan here God?" and soon I had my laptop out, watching sermon series on Judges and taking notes in my journal and filling my bible with colour and different fonts again because my happy place became my happy place again. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It's an amazing experience when you feel like parts of you that have died off begin to come back to life. The contrast is huge and feels like a small victory in the middle of a battlefield of defeat. Even with all the other slain parts of yourself still motionless, you have some movement, proving to you that it's not all over. From those singular areas, other things around them have begun to grow. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My solution for the last half of 2017 was to</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> let go of everything and put it all in one big box labelled "POINTLESS". Don't think, don't feel, and don't try again.Wasn't worth it. Humanly, that seemed the only other response to the one I'd already tried, which was giving it everything you've got.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But I know that somewhere above that</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> there is another way, where things do not crush me with the pressure of their incompleteness, but neither do they lose their value. Where purpose is neither something I gorge myself on or starve myself of. Where the outcome doesn't result in smug pride or self-loathing. The process can just be enjoyed and the outcome does not rest on our shoulders. I feel like there's some stuff to shrug off if you go that way because it doesn't belong there and I don't yet know what that is. But I have decided that I do want to go that way, and that's a big improvement. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">D is for Daring to hope again.</span><br />
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<br />Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-28031305743066815012018-02-23T14:48:00.003+00:002018-02-23T14:49:59.145+00:00Facing Up To Plan D<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I am doing something today that I have been resisting for a
ridiculously long time now. For ages I have felt like I need to be writing more
stuff down and sending it into the world but I haven’t wanted to. When I share
things that are happening inside me, I want it to be positive and hopeful and
for it to make sense to me and the people who might want to read it. I want it
to be a bit pretty and polished and to leave people feeling better about life
and not worse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So because I’ve been in a fairly bad place internally for
the last couple of years, I have been waiting for this stage to pass so that I
could write about it with wisdom and hope and all the answers of how I got out
of that place into something better. And I’ve waited and waited and all the
time I’ve felt this strong sense that I was supposed to be writing anyway. I
kept reading things and listening to messages that were prompting me to get the
words out and my response this whole time has been, “Okay, yes, I definitely
will, once things start to make sense again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I’ve put myself in a kind of silent stalemate with God. I
haven’t wanted to be obedient to Him until He started showing me answers. I’ve
been waiting for the next breakthrough or a new perspective or….something, I
don’t know what. For things to get easier I suppose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But they haven’t got easier. They have got way more
complicated and I have significantly less answers now than I would’ve had if
I’d written this stuff two years ago. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Guess what? My stubborn sulking with God hasn’t got me anywhere.
That shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone: He is consistent, I am not. He is
faithful, I am fickle. He sees the beginning from the end, I see only what’s in
front of my face and have willingly forgotten so many things that He has
already said and done. He is infinitely patient, my patience has now run out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So I’m doing it. I am going to write from the place that I
am in right now instead of the place I wish I was. I will go back over my
dozens of half-written posts from the last couple of years and I will try to
finish and publish them. As I wrote about two posts ago, I will let go of what I want
everyone to think of me and just write about the honesty of the season I’ve
been in. Am in. Hopefully won’t be in forever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">To accompany this I’ve changed the look and the title of
this blog. The last header was from six years ago, before the losses, and I
haven’t known what to do with it since. I’ve just used a generic one from
blogspot (maybe some day I’ll work how to do a better one but I didn’t want to
use that as an excuse anymore for not moving forward).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The title for now is about living in Plan D. This is about I
have been feeling in the last few months. After Scooby died, through our devastation we had to reconfigure and work out what we were going to do now that
we had lost what we’d spent the previous two years fighting for. It felt like
Plan B to us but so many amazing things came into our life in that season too.
We could see some sense in what had happened. After loosing Richard, life changed
again and it felt like so many of those plans and new hopes had been lost forever. The
only way forward was to rethink the future differently and work out Plan C on
my own. In this last year, it has felt like so many of these decisions have
come to nothing and multiple doors have been closed and I have to rethink the
future yet again. So this would be Plan D. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The thing is with Plan D is that it’s harder to walk forward
into. Plan B stings like heck but there is still determination and energy there
– usually it just needs channelling from whatever you were fighting for before
and into something else instead. Plan C can be quite a shocker as you begin to
question lots of things that seemed so clear before. It winds you in the
stomach and slows you down and seriously dents your optimism and your
confidence. You approach everything with more caution and hold back from big
decisions unless you have a lot of support or very few options. You begin to
feel like a different person and miss so many aspects of your character that
seem to have dulled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Plan D though is an absolute killer. You don’t really want
to get back up at all. You actually can’t remember what the Plan A version of
yourself felt like. You can’t see anything clearly as it’s all through a veil
of what should have been instead. You daren’t invest in anything because you
begin to convince yourself that it’s all going to turn to dust. You can’t seem
to get energy from the things you used to, and everything feels like too much
effort. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Plan D stands for Disappointment, Disillusionment,
Depression and Doubt. It doesn’t feel like a plan at all, just a big hole you
stumbled into and can’t find a way out of.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">You see why I didn’t want to write about it? I don’t want to
be that person. Even less, I don’t want to inflict these feelings or thoughts
onto anyone else.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">However, even though I haven’t been consistent or faithful
in the last few years, God has, and He has kept creating lots of opportunities for me to go
and speak in many different places. I feel like it’s been a crazy experience
of faith. Some weeks I have felt like I’ve been in a pit and have failed in
almost everything else I attempted to do, and have wanted to cancel the next
speaking appointment, listening to voices in my head that tell me I’m actually a fraud. But when I’ve turned
up anyway, and spoken about whatever place I’m currently in, God has been using
it in ways I don’t understand. I’m sure that a lot of people who listen wonder
what on earth I’m on about, but for others in the room they are hearing someone
else put into words things that they have been wrestling with too. God
seems to use this to do a deep work in people, confounding the voice of apparent wisdom
that tells me to be quiet and using the foolishness of my over-active emotions
instead. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">You see how daft it is then that I didn’t want to give Him
the permission to do the same thing on this page? Like every other aspect of
Plan D, I can’t where it’s going or how God will use it, but if it’s all I’ve
got right now then it’s what I need to offer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Finally: my description of Plan D above is crude and
negative and narrow-minded. It’s how I see it, still smarting from the blows
that have been dealt to me. I know though that there is so much more to it than
I currently see. Plan D in God’s hands can stand for a whole bunch of other
things. Depth. Deliverance. Devotion. Discernment. Destiny. I may have changed
a lot in the past few years but He hasn’t. That’s what I’ll keep writing about.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiep5yVhyphenhyphenYVX7r_7IiJhPgCQIVzM5OTD95G07wwixBLukYZLSKsQVQws70NwTftHTZe2nz6u9hu9Va3s6p46hNnE2qJUGnblR1IBKpO6WybOSBbiHn2nxtJhFUaIHZPPsEsXsD9TVIvZQ/s1600/IMG_1786.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiep5yVhyphenhyphenYVX7r_7IiJhPgCQIVzM5OTD95G07wwixBLukYZLSKsQVQws70NwTftHTZe2nz6u9hu9Va3s6p46hNnE2qJUGnblR1IBKpO6WybOSBbiHn2nxtJhFUaIHZPPsEsXsD9TVIvZQ/s640/IMG_1786.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-38396385871798082452018-02-17T11:44:00.000+00:002018-02-23T12:22:37.800+00:00Lost Harmony<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>I remember discovering the joy of learning to sing harmony<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Realising that I was no longer constrained to the notes that
were written<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>But instead could dance around them<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Finding new heights and new depths and new sounds in the
music<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>The pitch of the song no longer mattered <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>How high the tune reached or how low<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>All I had to do was find the complementing note<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>And no song was out of my reach<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Without it my voice had wavered uncertainly in solo<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Questioning its strength and its ability to hit the right place<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>And making me want to step away from the spotlight and hide
my attempts<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>For it was quieter than the inner voice that told me I
couldn’t<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>But to sing with another<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Who carried the melody strong and undoubting<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Meant that I was free to try<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Endless possibilities opened<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>The freedom to try and fail and succeed and succeed and
succeed<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Reaching for a note and quickly adapting <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Split second opportunities to choose differently and to find
the right one<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>As another voice carried the weight of the song<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Nobody saw where I faltered<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>They only heard when I rose and seized the moment to blend<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>To lift<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>To complement<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>To enhance<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>I could grasp my place in a song in seconds<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>I didn’t know where it was going but it didn’t matter<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>I knew in each moment what to do<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Where to slide into the space that needed my note<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>No limits, no fears, only new possibilities<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>And it made the melody sound all the better<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>It increased its impact<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>It sounded firmer and it drew people to its magic<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Making a rich strong song<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>A confident song<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>That brought joy and comfort and direction to people who
heard it<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>It was my place of truest happiness<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>And now you have gone <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>And I have lost my melody<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Left with wavering notes that no longer fit or trust
themselves to keep singing</i></span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhynSQKc0gpymCrhIPzUc3FzVOl4__6W9U5fHhfQPeT5FQhc35WP8Xu1_5LX315xQJEGZ1d1y4MT9gMiFCHiqHogktKEJNm3-zczcY74V8_zhY7WlSDGeuuawEU5rxcqIzz2a9hELw_6gY/s1600/sheet-music-ft.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="750" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhynSQKc0gpymCrhIPzUc3FzVOl4__6W9U5fHhfQPeT5FQhc35WP8Xu1_5LX315xQJEGZ1d1y4MT9gMiFCHiqHogktKEJNm3-zczcY74V8_zhY7WlSDGeuuawEU5rxcqIzz2a9hELw_6gY/s640/sheet-music-ft.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-12441265535576935952018-02-05T13:17:00.002+00:002018-02-05T13:17:34.767+00:00Leaving Home (Part Two)<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Why do I find it so hard to write on this blog? Because I
have a real issue with <i>Pride</i> and <i>Reputation</i>. I want to always be able to say
the right thing, the right way. I don’t just want to put words on a page, I
want to be able to capture as perfectly as possible the thoughts I’m thinking
and the way I’m feeling, and, most importantly, to capture the purpose and
principles behind whatever is going on at the time. So if I can’t make head nor
tail of what’s going on, or find words to describe the process of what’s
happening in my life, I can’t write about it. Because if I just waffled on a
page then it wouldn’t be saying the right thing in the right way and it would
come back to my central issue – people won’t like what I’ve just written and this
will affect my <i>Pride</i> and my <i>Reputation</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In this last couple of years I have written dozens of posts
that never got finished because I’ve been in such a crazy state of flux, not
being sure of so many things, and constantly doubting myself and my feelings.
When life is in emergency mode, there is an unshakable confidence in what needs
to happen, when and how, and there is little room for self-doubt. But in this
long season, that seems to me like it will never end, there just seems to be
more change, grief that keeps morphing into new forms but never actually going
away, opportunities that present themselves then slip out of my fingers before
I had chance to grasp them, and a huge monumental lack of confidence in, well,
everything. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Tiredness is a really big thing. It has become my body’s
self-defence mode for everything. Too much to think about it? Sleep. Difficult
decision to make? Sleep. Worried about how to reply in the right way to the
message I’ve just received? Sleep. It is really unnerving to be tired all the
time. It makes it difficult to plan things because I can’t measure things in
time availability anymore, it’s all to do with energy instead. I cannot predict
in advance how much energy I will have on a certain day, so I have to make
decisions with caution, always considering what my back-up plan will be. How
far will I be able to drive in one stint? If I know I’m out all evening, will I
be able to nap in the afternoon beforehand? How early will I have to set my
alarm in the morning to be able to do all the things I’m too tired to complete
tonight? And the biggest one: if you’re always planning everything expecting to
be tired, is that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">why</i> you’re tired
and is it all in your head you big wuss?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Making huge decisions about the future in the middle of this
tiredness has been very difficult. As a family, our previous decisions were
always made with optimism: expecting that life was going to get easier, that we
just needed to push past whatever stage we were in, and things would soon get their
own momentum and gloriously take off into something wonderful. Everything was
worth the hard slog of the present because the future held such incredible
potential. Oh, I loved making decisions that way! It generated its own natural
energy and helped me to do things way beyond my natural capacity. But now I
have to make decisions that are always limited by my current status. If I put
us in a place beyond my capability, there is no one but me who can find the
hidden strength and resource to make things work. So I have to think small and
slow instead of large and unrealistic. I have to think like a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">normal person </i>after years of being
married to limitless possibilities. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So these two versions of me – the present and the past –
have been at war while trying to work out where to go next. Do I go to a church
where the leadership is already covered by a large team of people and just rest
and be part of the body or do I go back into church leadership and use my
experience to be involved in planning and building new things? Do I go
somewhere really familiar where people have known me a long time or do I go
somewhere new where the area is unknown and meet a whole bunch of new people?
Do I play it safe and risk letting the pioneering part of my personality die,
or do I hope that this current season of exhaustion will disappear once I get
back on the saddle again?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For over a year, those two sides of the coin were
represented by two different churches and I didn’t know which one I should be a
part of. Let’s call the first one – the familiar one – Church A, and the one
that felt like a wildcard option Church B. I had to make the decision before I
moved as it would completely determine where I bought the new house. For me,
church is my community and now I have teenagers I need it to be as easy as
possible for them to access everything going on without depending on my
availability to get them where they need to be. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As I said in my last post, I would have loved some kind of
heavenly visitation that showed me what to do. Just as I thought I was
beginning to come out of the fog of indecision, the closure of Home Church made
my exhaustion and optimism for the future even worse. But I knew that if I
didn’t take a risk and go for the option that the old me would’ve taken, I would
always have berated myself for playing it safe. So I chose Church B, and hoped
that once the weight of indecision was gone, I would begin to feel peace about
it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Unfortunately the opposite happened. My anxiety increased
and my health got worse. I went to friends I’d known for a long time and asked
them to pray for this fear that was trying to hold me back, and found that even
though I was struggling to hear from God, He seemed to use them to ask me
questions and bring me insights at just the right time. But it wasn’t
confirming the decision I’d made, just the opposite. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then within a week, two things happened. Firstly, I got an
offer on my house in Morecambe, and on the same day, every house that I’d been
watching on Right Move near Church B came off the market. I couldn’t get an
appointment in that area or the next one over to see a four-bedroomed house
that fit my criteria and my budget. And that week, some incredible houses
appeared on the market near Church A that were perfect. Secondly, circumstances
changed massively at Church B. Situations that I’d been waiting to see resolved
all year took an unexpected turn, and it was absolutely clear that it was no
longer the right place for me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Here’s the thing though – I was so mad about it. If that had
happened a few months earlier, I would have been so glad that I’d had such a
definitive answer to the prayers I’d been praying. But I felt like I was
receiving the answer too late. I had told the kids that’s where we were going,
I had allowed myself to get emotionally attached to it, and – oh my pride! – I
now had to make a u-turn on a decision I’d just made public. I had to go back
on my word, I had to let people down, and all of this would have an effect on
(of course the most important thing in the whole world): my <i>Pride</i> and my <i>Reputation</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Now the great weight of leaving one church in crisis earlier
this year was doubled. How had I somehow managed to do it again? How, when my
intention was to build up and help, did I feel like everything I touched at the
moment was doomed to crumble? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And so the unravelling of the mind has gone on and on. Once
emotions begin to spiral like this, there is no stopping them. I have been on a
mental journey into everything I’ve ever done in the past that hasn’t worked
out the way I thought it would. My memories have skipped over the positive and
alighted on every project I started and didn’t finish, on every person I have
disappointed in some way, on all the opportunities I didn’t take, on every
mistake and selfish moment, on good intentions that were riddled with excuses
and weren’t brought to completion. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And this of course is crippling. There is no excitement to
start something new, only anxiety about all the things that are likely to go
wrong. Every opportunity to start something new seems like standing at the
bottom of a mountain before climbing it, staring up into a large cloud
wondering at what point the exhaustion will stop me and if I’ll be
irretrievably stuck when it does. From sewing projects to phone calls to blog
posts to decorating – all these small things – it’s just easier not to start them at all than to find the strength to push through the self-doubt that will come
shortly after beginning them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And all this is happening surrounded by a backdrop that is
absolutely incredible. I have the house. I found the most perfect home for us,
a house that felt like it was mine from the moment I walked into it. It has the
right amount of space for us – enough that we can spread out in it, without it
feeling overwhelming to maintain. We have our own garden, for the first time
that the kids can remember, and we are within walking distance of shops, school
and the train station, and we are so close to church. And it is full of light.
Even though it has been winter in the few weeks that we’ve lived in it so far,
every time the sun comes from behind the clouds, the house is flooded with
light, and that is so good for my soul.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am still in awe that I managed to do it, to pack up and
disassemble the whole house after ten years of living in one place, and to get
it all here and to put it all together
again. I had to fight through the worst anxiety and until moving day itself, I
couldn’t actually accept it was really happening. I kept expecting something
else to come and snatch it away from me unexpectedly. I felt in shock (but the
good kind thankfully) for the first few days, staring at each room as if I was
in a dream. And I am part of a church that is passionate and vibrant, full of
energy and optimism, with people who have known me a long time and love me
well. I know I am positioned well for what I need next – an inner rebuilding
and a fresh perspective. I just have to wait now for what is surrounding me on
the outside to begin seeping into the broken wasteland that is on inside and
bringing life and growth back again. I don’t know how long that will take and I
don’t know how long I can keep putting off living at base camp, but I do feel like writing this imperfect post and wounding my Pride and Reputation just a little bit more may have got me a teensy bit further on. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-2788625212634637182017-10-24T13:53:00.000+01:002017-10-24T13:53:05.457+01:00Leaving Home (Part One)<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I have waited far too long to write about what’s been
happening in my life for the last year, and now it’s time for a mammoth write
up. I’ve been living for a year in a really odd state of limbo and wasn’t sure
what information to communicate to everyone around me. Internally and
externally there has been lots of upheaval and lots of things that have been
waiting for a resolution. As soon as I thought I knew what was happening next,
something else would change and I’d hit the pause button again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For a full year I’ve known that I was about to embark on a
new chapter of my life but didn’t know where or what it was supposed to look
like. I’ve done a lot of guessing, a lot of praying and I feel like I’ve had
lots of false starts down different paths.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I’ll back up a few years: since Richard died, I had no doubt
that living in Morecambe and helping to lead Home Church was the right thing
for me to be doing. The move here and the vision for the church had been the
dream for both of us, not just him, and things were going so well before he got
ill that I wanted to continue the excitement of where church was going. I just
love building church and even if I’ve had to do that in a diminished capacity
while things were difficult, and to lean on people around me harder when
dealing with grief, it’s what I’ve wanted to do. I have had amazing people
around me who have recognised that and given me as much space and/or
responsibility as I’ve needed at Home Church. My fantastic brother-in-law
stepped up to be the pastor and he is an incredibly gifted leader. I was able
to support him in that role and stay involved in the leadership, coordinating
teams in church, speaking in various other places too, and training for Free
Methodist leadership. There have been big obstacles to overcome, as in any
church, and especially one recovering from such a large loss. For each one
though, I felt resourced beyond my capacity and have counted it all as an
incredible opportunity to get to be part of helping people through this.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This time last year though, changes had begun to happen in
me. I can’t go into all the details as some of it is very personal, some of it
involves other people, and to be honest, it would be dull to read all the
emotional ups and downs and questions I’d been wrestling with for months. The
short version is: I felt like it was time to move on. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I have never been in a situation like this before. The
biggest decisions in my life have previously been made quickly and seemed so
obvious that there was very little wrestling involved. Getting married? Let’s
do it. Giving up full time work to live as volunteers? Let’s do it. Moving to
bible college? Let’s do it. Planting a church in Morecambe? Let’s do it.
Although there was a cost involved in those decisions, what was ahead seemed so
much more important than what we were leaving behind, so we just focused on
that and made it work, no matter how tough all those things were.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This time has been different though. It has been an
unsettling and a stirring to move from somewhere, without knowing why or what
I’m moving to. I fought it for a long time, tweaking everything in my life I
could think of in order to keep going where I was. The thought of leaving Home
Church behind was too difficult so I kept going, trying to fix the gaps and get
over what I was feeling. I was determined to stay unless God sent me an angelic
visitation or something equally dramatic to say otherwise. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I’m drifting – I said I wouldn’t go into all the details –
the result is that from September to December last year I had lots of tearful
conversations with different people, trying to work out what was going on, and
came to the conclusion it was time to move forward. In January I stepped down
from some of my leadership responsibilities at Home Church, and by Easter I had
let go of everything. People have been great – really encouraging and
supportive – and I got on with getting the house ready to sell and put on the
market. It’s been up for sale for a few months now and as a family we are all
geared up for moving on once the sale goes through.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I won’t yet go into what’s happening next for me though, because
there’s more about what I’m leaving behind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At the beginning of the summer things took another turn. My
incredible brother-in-law hit burnout and Home Church was put on hold for the
next few weeks. It’s not my story to tell, and there isn’t an easy way to
explain it anyway. There has been no big disaster or fall out or wrongdoing. It
might seem odd that a church stopped running because the pastor stepped out,
but there have been a combination of reasons that meant that lots of people
needed a break, and time to make decisions about where things were going. Over
the summer people have had some breathing space to stop and assess and pray
about what to do next. It’s been really weird for me because for the first
time, I am no longer on the leadership of the church as it goes through a
crisis. For the first time, I’ve just had to sit and wait to see what would be
decided.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">By the end of the summer, the decision was made for Home
Church to close. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This has had a massive effect on me. Although I had already
made the decision to move on, I had envisioned a much gentler transition away
from it, and a home to keep revisiting at times. My pride, my identity and my
story has been wrapped up for a long time with this family of people, and a
certain amount of optimism for the future depends on the perceived successes of
the past. I feel like I have fallen into a chasm of grief all over again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It’s been hard for me not to question and analyse and relive
all the different reasons for how things got to this place, but here are some
of the thoughts I have had:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Home Church has never been a big church. We have had a lot
of people involved in it in the ten years it has been going, but never at the
same time. People have come and gone so much that the numbers have remained fairly
consistent but the people have changed many times. In every season since we
have started, there have been challenges. There have been times when we spread
ourselves too thin in our attempts to provide services in the community, and
the team was too small to meet the many needs we encountered along the way.
There were many people affected by illness who needed to step back from the
responsibilities they wished they’d been able to fulfil. There were babies –
many, many babies! – and, rightly so, family priorities had to take president
over ministry ideals. We had people moving into the local area and people
moving out of it. We had people falling in love and moving overseas to start a
new life. We had massive projects started that got interrupted by unforeseeable
tragedies. We supported people struggling with mental health issues who we
tried to create safe and unrushed places for. We formed leadership teams and
reformed them each time new people arrived and other people left. We
disappointed people and let them down and sometimes people moved on because
they disagreed with decisions we made. Sometimes we went too quickly and
sometimes we went too slowly. Sometimes one issue hijacked everything for
several weeks or even months and it was difficult to keep things on course.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ultimately, it feels like we never quite got to a place of
stability, to build enough momentum to be a strong church. It always felt like
we were on the verge of something great, but even ten years on, it was like we
were just getting started. This was incredible because it always felt like a
pioneering church but also exhausting because we still needed the same amount
of peppy optimism and dogged determination in the tenth year as we did in the
first year. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The idea of Home Church was never to be one of those
churches where the same people turn up on a Sunday, week in and week out, and
go home unchanged. It was supposed to be a body of people who made an impact on
their community and resourced one another to go deeper and higher in their
faith. The question since we started has always been “How do we best build
God’s Kingdom in Morecambe?” If that’s by gathering and equipping one another
at Home Church then that’s what needed to happen. But if the answer is for
people to be part of other churches who are also doing that, then it’s better
to free people to go and join in on that instead of persisting in keeping a
dream going. The point of church is to build up and enable people, not to drain
them in order to keep a construct going. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can’t honestly answer the question of why we never managed
to gain enough momentum to become the kind of church we hoped for, but maybe
things will become clearer in the future. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As I have grieved over all of this, and raged at God over my
third loss in just a few years, there has been a concept that keeps coming back
to my mind. In Acts 27, Paul is on a ship on the way to Jerusalem and the crew
are shipwrecked due to a massive storm. As panic breaks out, Paul calls people
to order and says “I urge you to keep up your courage, because not one of you
will be lost; only the ship will be destroyed.” (v22) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had always seen Home Church as a home for people, hence
the name. My focus was for it to be a place of security and family, where
people could find stability and grow into who they were supposed to be. People
came to it for that reason, and experienced things they hadn’t found elsewhere.
My decision to move on has been agonising for that reason – I didn’t want to
leave people in a place of disappointment and instability by no longer being
there for them. I had finally come to terms with being allowed to leave, so
when this happened shortly after, I felt devastated. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So this picture of a ship has become really important to me.
What I have seen as a home, which has made it painful to me each time someone
has left, maybe God always ordained as a ship. Perhaps our whole purpose has
always been to meet people where they are, carry them to where they needed to
be next, and them let them go on to a new thing. In this way, it doesn’t matter
ultimately what happens to the ship – the important thing is that not one
person will be lost.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I still have work to do on my wounded pride – the dream I
wanted to see built hasn’t happened, and I have to let go of that, which is not
an easy process. But the most important thing is the future of the people who
have been part of Home Church, that not one of them is lost, but have been able
to move on to where they were supposed to be next. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So I’d really appreciate your prayers for all of us, for the
disappointment we are carrying and all the emotional processing that will be
needed to handle it well. Also for the future of all those involved in Home
Church, that it will be obvious which church each individual and family needs
to plug into, for the next part of their journey.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-4166954731964200712016-10-22T01:01:00.000+01:002016-10-22T01:12:38.372+01:00Why I Show(ed) Up Every Sunday<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I wanted to write a post to encourage parents with small children about church (as in, the Sunday meeting part of it). Getting your family there every week can be fairly nightmarish at this stage, and I know lots of people that really felt like it wasn't worth it while their kids were tiny, so they stopped going, with the hope things would be easier in the future. As someone who has grown up in church and is now bringing up kids in church, I thought I'd share my perspective on it, in the hope it might be helpful to someone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My memories of church with more than one small person are
not so great. Sunday mornings began with the struggle of getting multiple
people all out of the house as near to ‘on-time’ as was possible, in clean
half-smart clothes, leaving a trail of devastation in our wake, followed by
doing anything – ANYTHING – to keep small writhing bodies from creating the
least distraction possible while in the first part of the service. I would miss
almost all of what was going on because 90% of my attention was on keeping them
distracted from each other, whispering in their ears (turn by turn) about what
they should be doing now and what can wait till later, and the burning
sensations in my muscles as I vowed to keep standing up during the songs with
one or more children in my arms so they could see what engagement in worship
looked like. Then I would spend the majority of services in the crèche because
during that season we were only in churches that didn’t have enough spare
people to volunteer on the parents behalf, and as my family seemed to take up
more than their fair share of the numbers, it only seemed right that I carried
the responsibility myself. At the end of the service, depending on the physical
layout of the building, I rarely got to finish a conversation or a hot drink as
I tried to keep track of what all the children were doing. It became easier
just to stay tuned into them rather than risk offending people by my
distracted, eye-wandering conversations that I couldn’t keep track of.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As the kids got older, it didn’t get much easier. Whichever
church we were a part of, I felt like we were THAT family – the ones who
probably made it harder for everyone else. I had one child who struggled with
language and needed to be kinaestheticly engaged at all times, and whatever I
managed to find for him to fiddle with that would keep him fixed in one place
and able to listen was inevitably coveted by all the other children around him,
leading to more problems. I had one that was prone to emotional meltdowns and
so if something had thrown him off that morning, no amount of distractions or
warnings would prevent him from letting the world know how he felt. And I had
another one who lived in his own created world, and needed a lot less coercion
but would often let that alternative existence spill over in the form of random
arm movements or noises at inappropriate times. As fast as I could deal with
one issue, another one would be brewing. When I tried my best to lead Kids
Church, my kids (probably because they were so used to the sound of my voice)
were the ones I had to spend most time pulling back into whatever activity we
were supposed to be doing. I remember one time as I was telling a story to the
whole group, one of my kids would not stop contorting himself all over the
floor. I eventually left the rest of the kids in the hands of the other helpers
and marched him out of the room asking him what the heck he thought he was
doing, and he answered wide-eyed, as if my continual requests for him to sit up
on the mats like everyone else were totally ludicrous and said “I was doing my
exercises! Exercise is really good for you!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I remember crying in the corridor, exhausted with reason,
begging him just to do. what. he. was. asked. to. do. I just couldn’t work out
how come the other kids seemed to just get it when mine didn’t. I knew I was
doing all the right things – giving clear instructions, following through on
consequences, explaining the motivations behind certain behaviours – it was
just all really really tough. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In order for me and my children to be at church every week,
I have had to stretch myself really far, pour energy and creativity into
finding many ways to keep them engaged, ignore the voices in my head that tell
me people are judging my parenting skills and finding me lacking, and sacrifice
plenty of time, dignity and sleep to make it work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And this is why I have done it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Church is God’s Plan A for our lives. He created us to be in
community. He gave us gifts and personalities that are meant to be shared with
one another in order to have healthy and meaningful lives. It is our purpose
and our mission – to be part of His body. We cannot be the person we were
created to be on our own, but when we plant ourselves into this family of God, we
learn what our part is and how to do it well, and we lean on others who have
skills and provisions that we need. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Church is the hope of the world. It is THE vehicle God has
set in motion for other people to discover who He is. People don’t learn about
the love of God in isolation – they understand it fully by seeing it in
practice, and that has to be between people. When people find God, they become
part of His family, and that is who we are. We can only be part of it if we
show up and join in and interact with one another. Without being part of
church, we can’t live out about half of what is talked about in the New
Testament, as most of it is given as instructions on how to BE church. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There were some Sundays as a young parent that I felt like
church was going to be the death of me, but the long game is this: it gives me
life. I received encouragement when I felt like giving up. I was able to lean
on other people’s gifts – worship, hospitality, humour – to make me feel alive
again between the drudge of every day life. I was able to be with other parents
and learn from them and realise I also had wisdom and encouragement to give. It
gave me a focus when my responsibilities made me want to pull a duvet over my
head and stay there. I stuck relentlessly to what I’d committed to – turning up
on a Sunday morning, getting to connect group on a week day night, leaving the
kids in my husband’s hands one evening a week so I could go and do youth group
and feel human again. It gave my chaotic weeks structure, and gave me opportunities
to be not just in one role (that of mum) but also that of friend, organiser,
leader, listener, learner, and many more. It stopped me from losing myself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">For the children, I can see it bringing more each year as it
goes. It begins with a sense of community, that there is a wider family that
they belong to. They have learnt to trust other adults, and how to adapt to
people who act and sound different to the ones in their family. So far, it’s
been a pretty safe place to learn boundaries – how to respect people’s
differences, and how to verbalise if they feel uncomfortable in different
situations. They have developed friendships of many different age ranges. They
have got to see behind the scenes of the blessings and the disciplines that come
from serving. They have learnt the rhythm of when to listen and receive, and
when to bring their own ideas and contributions to the bigger picture. In our
most difficult months they have had homes opened to them for fun and
distraction in the middle of tragedy, observed meals and presents that have
been brought to our door from people who they’ve never met but are part of the
wider family they belong to, and they have sensed wave after wave of prayer and
support reminding them they are not alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And I can now see (although it may have taken me many years
to get to this point), how much our whole family blesses the rest of church by us
all being there. People who currently have no family often love being in the
hubbub of busy activity. My kids can light up their world for a month with one
hug, or picture, or a breathless story of something that happened in their
week. When we arrive early and stay late, sometimes my kids decide to put down
their books and help me instead, by moving chairs or hoovering or even cleaning
toilets, and they get the joy of knowing they are part of making all this
happen. Some of my kids are old enough to help on the media team, in the
worship band and with hospitality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A short while ago we had a week where somebody needed some
major help at the end of the service. A group of us spent a long time in one
room dealing with the situation and the usual post-service tasks were all
abandoned. After a long intense time I came out to check how all my children
were doing. One of them was waiting patiently on the other side of the door with a cup of tea and a cake for me because he noticed I’d missed the
refreshments at the end of the meeting. Another one had started stacking the
chairs away because he saw one of the adults doing it who was less familiar
with that job, and he was directing where they should go. Another had been on
media that morning and was busy packing away wires and the sound desk without
being asked. And when we brought extra kids home that afternoon so their
parents could find solutions to what was happening, my youngest looked after
them and distracted them so well that they barely noticed anything had gone
wrong that day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When I think of weeks like that, I am so overjoyed that my
capacity to bless other people was multiplied that week by my family. For too
long, I felt like me coming to church distracted, tired and unable to serve on
a team because my hands were full with children, was somehow subtracting from
the life of church (I now know that wasn’t even true at the time, and just my
lack of sleep and Fear Of What People Thought whispering to my guilt organ). It
made me realise that the big picture, long term game plan really does come to
pass. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And even more than blessing other people – my kids are
learning all the time what it means to take their place in the world. For years
my children have been able to experience the power of unconditional love,
seeing that whether they turn up and do something or nothing (or even bring
great disruption!), they are loved and welcomed and accepted. So now if they
choose to help out in any way, they know it’s not because they have to, but
because they are able to. When you can see your service and presence in the
life of other people making a difference, you get a sense of purpose and significance.
You realise that you have the power to change the atmosphere wherever you are,
and that who you are matters. Church for me in my teens was a place to discover
so much about myself – what I was good at, how to help people, how to overcome
my fears – who I am and what I was placed on this earth to do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Right now, in a one-parent family, I am more aware of my inadequacy than
ever before. I am so limited in how much of the world I can show to my kids,
and how many areas of life I am inexperienced in. But that’s totally fine. I am
surrounded by a family who are able to contribute the bits that I can’t. My job
is not to do it all, but to lay a solid foundation that can be built on. When
my children are sick of hearing my voice, they can go and listen to other people
(who are often telling them exactly the same thing) who use different phrases
and personal stories that click with the kids on another level. If my kids want
to branch out and try new things they have other people that can help with
that. If they don’t feel listened to, there’s more than one adult they trust
that they can open up to. When I can’t figure out at all what makes a teenage
boy tick, I can talk to people who used to be teenage boys and get insight that
make me realise things I hadn’t considered before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When I think of all this, and I look back on those
difficult, seemingly pointless Sunday morning struggles that I could’ve avoided
by just staying at home, I feel like God is telling me that He remembers them
all too. I wonder if He watched every one of them while they were unfolding and
kept whispering “Go on girl. Dig deeper, keep going. I promise you, it will be
worth it.” I feel now that every one of those weeks was setting a foundation
for my family that I had no idea would be so valuable right now. If I had to go
back and do it all again, I would do exactly the same thing, bruised shins, tears of frustration and all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">**********************************************************************************************<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">One last thing that might be helpful to somebody. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I didn’t want my children’s experience of church to be based
on outward behaviour to impress other people. I did my best to avoid using
“what will people think?” as a motive for how they should behave, and I also
tried to avoid physical punishment. I wonder if it might have been easier in
the short term if I did, but I wanted their view of church to be positive in
the long run. I was also aware, however, that my kids behaviour shouldn’t
dominate whatever was happening in the service. I know some people find it
really difficult to engage if there’s loads of noise and movement going on and
I wanted to keep all that to a minimum.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So the little mantra I eventually came up with for our family
was this (and we repeat it every week in the car as we arrive):<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">What are we going to church to do?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">To celebrate God.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And what will we not do?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Distract anyone else from celebrating God.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And that’s it. We have conversations around that, to explain
why and how we celebrate God, and that we can celebrate God any time anywhere
but it’s particularly special on a Sunday because we’re all taking time out to
come and do it together. And they know that “celebrating God” is a choice –
they can choose whether they do that or not, and I don’t force them to look
like they’re doing it if they’re not. But things like talking, messing around,
changing seats, chucking things around, etc, mean people will end up
concentrating on them and not what they came for – celebrating God. So if that
stuff carries on, there will be a consequence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">After many years of wondering whether I should be
harsher/softer/less paranoid/more in control, that’s the conclusion I’ve come
to, and I’m waiting to see what their eventual decision about church and God
will be. For now, church as a family is what we all do and I’m enjoying doing
it all together. I’m praying that they will continue to choose it in the future
when the decision is no longer mine, and hopefully they will come to love and appreciate
it as much as I do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-30803392905190292002016-05-09T22:46:00.001+01:002016-05-09T22:46:25.352+01:00Legacy<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today my Great Auntie Margaret died.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">She was in her 80s so she had a good run. She survived two
husbands, one who died fifty years ago and the other died much more recently.
Last time I spoke to her in depth (not long after her second husband died) she
was telling me how different it was, making decisions beyond caring for him,
and it struck her that she liked driving her car to a certain place to go for
walks, and that other people might like to do that too, so she decided to
invite other people to go for trips out with her on these walks. I love that
there she was in her 80s, thinking of new ways to connect with more people and
to bless them. It really inspired me. I hadn’t realised she’d been ill, so when
your last memory of someone is of them still being up and about and involved
with life, it’s a shock to hear they’ve just passed away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That was the first thought that struck me today.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The second thing was that here was a lady who had prayed for
me my whole life. My great-grandma had seven children and lost one daughter and
her husband in her early thirties, so she raised those five boys and one girl
into adulthood, and when they got married and had children of their own, she
prayed for them by name every day. Then when those children had children, she
prayed for them all too. She made a list so she wouldn’t forget anyone. So when
Grandma Parkinson, as she was known, passed away, her own children took up that
mantle and used that list to keep praying for every person in the family.
Auntie Margaret was one of those constant prayers – the surviving daughter. The
aunts and uncles would gather regularly to pray for my parents’ generation, my
generation and the children we went on to have too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sometimes I wonder how it was that God seems to have had His
hand over me from such an early age. Why I just got to know Him early on,
without complications, and why following Him mattered to me more than any other
motivation that I could’ve chosen. I honestly think that those prayers made
that difference in my life. I’ve still been free to make choices about
everything. Just because my name was on that list doesn’t mean I didn’t have a
choice about what I did with my life. For all of us on that list (and we are
now a huge family!) we have been free to do our own thing. Yet a very very high
proportion of us have gone on to want to choose to follow God and give our
lives over to the mission of the church. I don’t know if anyone’s done the
maths but it is staggeringly high for the amount of us there are (I think my
dad is one of twenty-three cousins, so I’ve lost track of the numbers after
that…).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The third thing that really struck me, and has been the
hardest thing to deal with today, is that she’s my grandma’s best friend. As
well as being sisters-in-law, their husbands were best friends, and those two
husbands died within a month of each other. Auntie Margaret lost her youngest
brother and her husband in just a few weeks. That was fifty years ago, and
that’s a long time to journey alongside one another through so much. My grandma
has six children (also five boys and a girl – it was eerie how history repeated
itself there) and Margaret has one son. My grandma never remarried and Margaret
started again with somebody new. They lived close to one another all this time
and as well as praying together, they did many other activities together too.
It has been an amazing blessing for me in my confusing journey to look at these
two women and see how despite their tragedies, they kept making good decisions,
with no excuses, that impacted the next generations that came after them. I
feel like they have treaded the ground with such dignity, good humour and
determination to serve others, that they have set out a path that is worthy of
following.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sometimes I feel like I have an unfair advantage when I come
from such an amazing heritage. It’s been easier for me to stick on the straight
and narrow path when I’ve had such great role models around me than for other
people who have come from dysfunctional and unstable families. Part of the
reason we moved away from family to go and plant a church in another town was
to try and bring that sense of stability and grounding to people who hadn’t had
a chance to experience it through their own family life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At the same time, we are all free to make our own decisions.
If we come from stability, we can choose to carry that on, or disregard it and
do our own thing. If we come from dysfunction, we can choose to find a new way
to live and begin to carve out a new road in the hope that future generations
will join us on it. I’d love to be able to go further back through history and
find out who it was in my family line that started making those decisions to
put God first and to make church central to the family. I’d love to show them
all the people in my generation and thank them for the decisions they made, and
how they have impacted us so many years later. I’d also love to think that in a
hundred years’ time, my every day, hum-drum, plodding down this road of making
right decisions even though I don’t feel like it, fairly boring household
management and teaching my kids the same thing over and over again,
church-focused life (even when people at church may hurt or disappoint me),
will still be impacting people several generations on from me who I never got
to meet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And my fourth thought, after feeling pretty emotional over
all those other thoughts today as I was doing my housework, was that early this morning that beautiful faithful lady got to see Jesus. There is nothing
else for her to contend with now. No sucky, horrible, rubbish deaths of the
people she knows, no living on without people she loved, no watching this crazy
world self-imploding in on itself, no more pain, and no more questions. For her
now, everything will make sense, and everything will be perfect, because she
gets to be with Him. As much as I hate death, and the pain left behind from it
here, I want that for her much more.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-91586659116794106302016-04-27T22:44:00.002+01:002016-04-27T22:52:44.380+01:00House Rules<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As soon as you have children old enough to do things by themselves, you need rules. The
intention of course, is always to keep rules to a minimum, but in practice,
because children are not born with common sense, you have to add a whole bunch
of more complex rules on top of the basic rules because of the way children and
adults interpret things differently.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I had hoped that as the children got older, the rules would
become less, but as I’ve asked them to help me out more, I’ve discovered that
there is more than a dozen ways of misinterpreting basic instructions. There is
a method in their madness. The more complex you can make an exercise, the less
likely it is that you will be asked to repeat the exercise. And when there is
an able-bodied adult in the house who is willing to repeat herself infinitely,
and actually seems to care about the stuff you are supposed to be doing but
don’t really care about, the slim chance that she will give up on her goal of
getting you to do the stuff is enough to make you keep trying the “Oh, I’m
sorry, I had no idea that’s what you meant” method until one day she may give
in (it hasn’t happened yet, but there is still hope).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So the rules have become more and more complex, and if I
were to actually write them out, the "Behave well at the table" rule, for example, would now look something like this:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“When you are sitting at the table, you must:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<span style="text-indent: -18pt;">- </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">Keep your chin over your plate/bowl so that the
food that misses your mouth doesn’t fall onto your shirt but instead back into
the plate/bowl (and oh goodness if you use the wrong word in your haste to say
this one, they stare at you as if you’re talking about something that’s not
even in the house and you’ve lost your mind, never mind a slightly different
shaped piece of tableware in front of them).</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">- Not touch anyone else. No poking, no cuddling,
no arm wrestling, no leaning, no kicking: just a blanket ban on touching of
any kind.</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">- Not speak with food in your mouth (unless you’re
a parent, because you have no control over when your kid is going to do
something spectacularly dangerous involving the water jug or a sharp implement
and sometimes you’ve just got to yell through the mouthful you’ve just taken in
order to avert disaster).</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">- Keep your mouth closed when you chew, or no one
will want to marry you ever.</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">- Not make weird random noises. There’s a lot of
us sat round the table and sometimes my head feels like it’s going to explode.
I can cope with the conversation, because my maternal instinct is strong enough
to want to listen to what you have to say, even if I would secretly rather be
sat upstairs reading a book with my meal, but I can’t do all the extra noises
too. It’s too much.</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">- Talk about real stuff. I get that in order for
us to connect I have to show an interest in the stuff you like, but I want to
hear about your friends, your feelings and the highlights of your day, not about
the most recent level</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">you got to on
Skylanders, or to hear the same three lines from SpongeBob repeated over and
over again because you all think it’s funny. I’ll do you a deal. While you’re
doing your jobs afterwards, I’ll listen to you rambling on about all that
stuff, so long as you’re actually working while doing it. Only then is it worth
it.</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">- Not ask if you can go and get yoghurts/fruit/ice
pops as dessert, until everyone else has finished, so you don’t distract people
who haven’t finished their meal yet. Everyone needs to be finished. Everyone.
Please don’t make me repeat this to you every meal time.</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">- Keep your plate flat. You know this because
whenever I see you tip your plate at the end of the meal, I ask you the same
question: “What is your plate for?” and you tell me that it’s for keeping food
on so the food doesn’t go on the table, then I ask you, “So what happens when
you tip your plate up when there’s crumbs or bits of food on it (even if you
can’t see the crumbs or bits of food because they’re really small)?” And you
tell me they fall off the plate, onto the table, meaning you’ve just destroyed
the purpose of having the plate in the first place, and you roll your eyes as
if I’m really unreasonable for making you repeat this every time you do it.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">That’s just mealtimes. On top of that, they have daily
chores to do, one of which is to sort out the modern day blessing that is the dishwasher.
The idea was simple. Show them what a neatly stacked dishwasher should look
like. Tell them where all the stuff goes away in the cupboard. Now do it the
way I do it. Voila.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Welcome to the additional rules of dishwasher duty:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />
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<span style="text-indent: -18pt;">- </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">You cannot put food in the dishwasher. A smear
of gravy or the remnant of sweet and sour sauce, yes, but peas, rice,
spaghetti, beans, porridge, breakfast cereal, and milk that has been left in
your bedroom so long that it now feels like rubber and is stuck to the bottom
of the cup – all these things need to be scraped into the bin. Not one time.
Every time. Even if I’m not watching.</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">- If the person before you has ignored this rule
and I was so bleary-eyed that I didn’t do a quality check before I switched the
dishwasher on last night, and the filters have all gummed up with the above
food items, and the plates and cups now all have heat-fixed smears of food
baked onto them, do not put them away in the cupboards. Stop. Look at them. Are
they clean? No. Then they need to be washed again, either by hand, or put back
into the dishwasher so I can take apart the filter and clean it, and get all
the food from the bottom of the dishwasher scraped out and into the bin, and we
will try it again. I know you’re anxious to get your pocket money by fulfilling
the job on your list today, but that actually is not the goal of emptying the
dishwasher. The real goal is so that we have clean, usable crockery in the
cupboard when we need them.</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">- You cannot use the same towel to mop up a spill
of juice and to dry the clean dishes. I have even made a stack of old towels
for you to use for spillages, and new ones for drying clean things. Please
please use the clever system.</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">- If something came from a drawer and now won’t
fit back into that drawer, here is the secret: </span><i style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">you may have to spend a few seconds moving things in the drawer so the
thing will fit</i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">. I know it seems like an absolute pain when you’d rather
just open the drawer and throw the thing in, but it’s a bigger pain when Mum
gets you back out of bed an hour later to rearrange the drawer for the thing, I
promise.</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">- Glass things can break.</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">- Porcelain things can break.</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">-You are not a ninja. The knives go straight back
into the knife block, via no other room, every time.</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">- You cannot read and stack the dishwasher
effectively at the same time. You’re speaking to an expert. If there was a way,
I would’ve found it. Put the book down and save it for later.</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">- Being in the same room as the dishwasher,
hovering around the dishwasher, thinking about the stuff in the dishwasher
while practicing karate moves or re-enacting movie scenes, or looking at the
dirty plates on the side while sighing and wishing you were doing something
else, is not actually doing the dishwasher. There is a reason your job is
taking you so long and is wasting so much of your time. It’s because you’re not
actually doing anything. You need to touch the stuff for it to move. It is at
the mercy of your hands.</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">If those two tasks alone make you
feel overwhelmed by the task of parenting, there is good news. I recently hit
upon a new method of communication (as the ‘use good table manners’ and ‘empty
and reload the dishwasher’ type lists we used to have on our wall have long
since been considered redundant). I warned them that I would not keep repeating
myself while they looked at me curiously as if they had never heard the
instruction before in their life. If something needed repeating, from now on,
it was they who would need to repeat it. </span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I introduced
them to good old fashioned </span><i style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', sans-serif;">lines</i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">. I made them sit at the table and write out
the same phrase ten, twenty or thirty times (depending on the severity of the misconduct).
And they hated it. They protested deeply. They moaned and complained and
finally got an insight into what it feels like to be a parent.</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And since then, things have got
decidedly better. Not perfect by any means (the occasional bedtime hauling
still needs to happen and I’ve managed to get early requests for dessert
quashed by a glare now instead of the line of questioning), but much better.</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And two days ago I caught a child
washing up pans in the sink without having been asked to do it. Just because
they saw there was a need and they decided to do it.</span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Ladies and gentlemen, there is
hope.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-48764203518945500662016-04-05T23:49:00.001+01:002016-04-06T07:59:03.855+01:00A Marriage Appreciation Post<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I’m unsure about posting this as it’s going to sound like a
great big pity party. I’ve started writing similar posts before and I end up
deleting them for that reason.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But two things have struck me recently. One was listening
back to a seminar I was doing a few weeks ago, where I shared my story. I was
struck at how, when I talked about my loss, it might have come over as pretty
matter of fact (though I know things generally sound different on a recording
than they do when you’re actually there). I think it was partly because I
wanted to move on to the points I was making, and also because I’m used to
telling the story by now, but I don’t ever want to give out the impression that
I am blasé about what has happened, or that losing your spouse is something that
you can get over within a year or so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The other thing is how easy it is to take those closest to
you for granted. I know I take my kids for granted every day, and inwardly
complain about the responsibility I have to carry. And I know that I did the
same with my husband. As an introvert married to an extrovert, I definitely
wished far too often that I could have more space and less conversation and I
know I missed loads of opportunities to appreciate him as I was busy looking
for “me-time”. I could have done with more reminders at the time of how amazing
marriage actually is, and that’s what the purpose of this post is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This post is not for everyone. It’s not for people who are
single – it will depress you. It’s not a judgement on those who had to end a marriage
for reasons I’ve never had to deal with. It’s for people who are married and
have kids still at home, and who are busy under the weight of family life and
sometimes lose perspective on what a blessing marriage really is. So if you’re
not in that category, you might not want to read this. If you are, I hope it
helps you to get a little more appreciation than you had before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I want you to really appreciate it if you have someone in
your life who was there right from the beginning of your babies’ life. From the
conception (always the fun bit), through whatever crazy symptoms were endured
through the pregnancies, through to the birth. No matter how much you clash
over parenting this life you’ve been given, the fact is that if you were both
there right from the beginning, the reason you fight is because you both care
as much as each other about this little life. You carried it together, saw it
into the world together, and were terrified together as you brought it home and
wondered what on earth you were going to do to with it to get it to flourish.
If you’ve been through tough times, from hospital admissions to fevers to close
calls with running into traffic, you have someone who remembers (even if you
have to remind them!) the rollercoaster of emotions you’ve been on together. This
person has invested as much time and emotion into this kid as you have, and so
you can trust their motives when it comes to making life decisions together,
even if you’re wanting different outcomes. They have seen what you’ve seen, and
walked the path with you (if you’ve been communicating with them well) and will
help you see and remember things about your kid that you may forget in times of
busyness or change.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I want you to appreciate the sense of team that comes from
being permanently attached to another person. As frightening as that attachment
may sometimes feel, there is also a reassurance of togetherness and identity.
Even if you carry the weight of every day decisions, you have someone you can
bounce some of them off on. When you’re not sure, you have someone (if you’ve
been communicating well) who knows you, your history, what emotional triggers
you struggle with, your financial situation, the likely responses of your
friends and family – all the things flying round your mind in those moments
when you have to decide on things, big or small, that are going to affect you.
Even if you don’t need to consult with them much because your life runs like
clockwork and you’ve divvied up the responsibilities to a tee, you still have
that person.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I want you to appreciate the value of arguing (yep, I said
that). To have someone who loves you and accepts you enough that you know you
can let your guard down and blow your top with, and still be understood – that
is a privilege. It might only happen once a year - and if it’s happening once a
day then something’s wrong - but if you can blow off steam and be brutally
honest about the negative thought patterns occupying your headspace, then this
is a good thing. Once you’ve voiced that stuff and seen what it looks like
outside of your head, your perspective on it can change drastically. Even
better, if that other person knows you inside out (if you’ve been communicating
well), they can also help you make sense of it. Of course, there may be an
initial period of accusation and upset, where more stuff is thrown back at you
because of what you said, but if you keep going long enough, with resolution,
closeness and understanding being the goal, you can actually become closer and
freer as a result of the argument. Unfortunately, this isn’t true when it comes
to your kids – blowing your top and using brutal honesty usually has the
opposite affect on your parent/child relationship. When it comes to your kids,
reactions need to be thought out, carefully worded and not driven by negative
emotion. That’s why parenting is so much better with two – you can filter
through one another, applying wisdom and grace that kids just haven’t got yet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I want you to appreciate what each of you do for one
another. You may have a dynamic where one of you is away for most of the time.
We went through a few seasons where one of us was away in hospital while the
other was at home, or when Richard was working two jobs and coming home to a
wreck of a house that needed emergency jobs doing for several hours every
night. Sometimes it feels all you’re doing is passing a baton to one another.
Praise God that you have someone to pass the baton to. Those seasons shouldn’t
make up your whole life, but when they’re there, you both know what you’re
working for. You’re holding up your side of the partnership to look after the
kids or earn the money or do the housework or invest in the project. They may
not appreciate every little thing, but if you can get past the
who’s-more-tired-than-who debate, then you have someone who is able to
occasionally say “Wow, you sorted out the car! Great!” or “Thanks for ironing
that shirt,” or “Could you pick this up for me on the way home from work?
Thanks!” It’s difficult for kids to see beyond just clothes in the drawer or
food on the table to recognise and appreciate the work that goes into making a
household run. Their simple chores can look like child slave labour to them
because they don’t see the stuff being done while they’re at school or in bed, or
wondering why you don’t have time to play their game or take them shopping.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I want you to appreciate that sometimes, even if it’s only
on a Sunday morning or when you’re going on holiday, there are two of you to
watch what’s going on in the house as people get ready. So that if you’re
calling down the stairs that it’s ten minutes to go, you have someone else
there to verify that you did actually say it. And someone who can count the
chorus of “okay!”s that come from the various rooms so that the one kid who’s
still wandering round with one shoe and jam around their face when it’s time to
go out of the door wouldn’t get missed when you’ve asked them all to get by the
door with everything they need. And maybe they might be passing by the kitchen
at the right time when the light’s been left on and someone’s spilled milk on
the side after you thought you’d left the place clean ready for your week’s
holiday away. Then as you go, you have someone to repeat your mental list out
loud to, so that the whirlwind inside your head of things to remember has
someone else to check it off too (even if secretly they are smiling and nodding
while thinking of their own mental list).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I want you to appreciate that no matter how often you argue
about physical intimacy, and wish they wanted you more, or that you could sink
into bed without feeling guilty about not wanting to do it after a long day,
that there is someone there who does want you, even if it’s not the exact way
you would like them to express it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I want you to appreciate that even if you don’t go out very
often on your own, that when you do, you don’t have to always leave the house
“babysitter-ready”. You can leave at whatever stage of chore time or bedtime
you want, knowing they already know the routine of the house and what needs to
be done (even if that comes in the form of a list on the wall), without judging
the state you’ve abandoned the house in. And if you’re out during the day and
coming home at bedtime, that you’re not having to pick up the kids from someone
else’s house on the way and starting the whole bed time routine at the time you
want to be arriving home and finally relaxing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I want you to appreciate someone who might wash up or hoover
or clear the table not because they’re motivated by pocket money but just
because they see there’s a need. They might pick something off the floor
instead of stepping over twelve times and they might make you a (decent) cup of
tea unprompted. And when you ask them to do something extra they won’t look at
you blankly and say “But it’s not my turn!”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I want you to appreciate that when you see those same traits in your spouse that drive you crazy exhibited in your child, you have someone right there who you can say to, "I don't get it!" and they can explain why your child is thinking the way they do. You can even turn the kid over to them for a couple of minutes or hours and say "They're all yours!" while they work that thing out together. And when you have a kid who has the same personality traits as you (shock horror!) and you find yourself locking horns because neither one of you is going to back down and you're in a negative spiral of conflict, you have someone who can step in once in a while. Just their presence can diffuse the situation. You have back up on your authority, and your child has someone who can perhaps say the same thing to them you've been saying, but using different words or techniques to get through to them. Your authority has greater weight because you're not alone, your child finds it easier to accept it because they feel like they've been heard and understood, and you've had time to cool off. Everybody wins.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I want you to appreciate there is someone out there who sees all your flaws. That's right. When you're married, you can't hide behind a shield of reputation. Someone has seen you at all parts of the day, through illness, tiredness and frustration. Sometimes they can predict before you can when you're about to crash and burn. They can point out that the issue you think everyone else has may actually be more to do with your perspective than their behaviour. They can help you (if you've been communicating well) to walk through those worst aspects of your personality and the character traits that have been dragging you down for years and bring them into the light. They may not do this well. They may point out flaws without having the ability to do anything about them, or bring emotions to the surface that you didn't know were there because their behaviour drives you crazy. But no longer can you deny those flaws. Once they're out there, you are able to do something about them. Your spouse may be the key to revealing them, but a friend, or working through resources, or therapy, or time with God may be the key to dealing through them. What your spouse is giving you is true self-awareness, which leads to authentic character, which means your marriage is making you more into the person you are supposed to be.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I want you to appreciate that if you’re feeling down and
overwhelmed, even if they may not say the right thing, or totally get what’s
going on in your head, you have someone to lean on. That you can squeeze a hand
or have a wordless hug and shed some tears without wondering if you’re placing
an emotional burden on them that may damage them, because they’re an adult too,
and they get that sometimes being an adult is a very scary thing, and really
none of us are 100% sure of what we’re actually doing. And appreciate that on a
bad day, that’s what your kids see – a loving supportive unit that makes them
feel secure and that they can draw from that unit too without fear of it
breaking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And I want you to appreciate that you have someone to share
life’s victories with. When a sick friend gets better, when a debt is paid,
when someone joins your church, when your is kid is in a show or does something
so kind and loving that your heart wants to burst with pride, when someone
compliments you, when an idea has paid off, when you see something hilarious –
you get to pick up your phone and send a text, or beam at each other over the
top of your kid’s head, to double your joy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This is marriage – it is awesome. Don’t get tired of it
because your spouse isn’t living up to the ideal you’ve set for them. Don’t
fall into the trap of looking round and picking attributes of other people and
comparing them to your partner. Don’t forget what it was like before you had
them in your life and all the situations you’ve come through together. Don’t
make your own happiness the focus of your decisions – work on building each
other up so that you become the best versions of each other. Don’t forget that
even when it feels like you have one more person to think about and give out to
when you feel exhausted, you also have one more person who is thinking about
you, and multiplying what you give back to you, and to the rest of the family
too.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-39509992834933308092016-03-08T18:16:00.001+00:002016-03-08T18:16:43.018+00:00How Do You Know Who To Be?<span style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Two years ago for International Women's Day I was asked to speak at a local college on what being a woman meant for me. Here it is in full, and as true today as it was then.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 13px;">Knowing how to define yourself as a woman in a 21st century first world country is probably a more baffling task now than it ever has been before. I’m incredibly grateful for all the women who have gone ahead of us and broken down boundaries that our predecessors lived with for centuries. We are now free to be more than we’ve ever been free to be before. Yet we still manage to find ways to hem ourselves in and be defined by the society around us.</span><br />
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Growing up in the 90s, I found I didn’t really fit in any of the boxes I saw my female counterparts putting themselves in. At school there was a lot of emphasis put on who you were ganging up with, and who you are ganging up against - defining yourself seemed to have a lot to do with tearing down other people and distancing yourself from them in ways that were so small and petty, there really didn’t seem like any point to them. </div>
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In relationships, there was a lot of girls willing to define themselves by their boyfriends - who they went out with, how well that boy did at tuning into their unspoken needs, and how much drama they brought to the daily life of everyone else who liked to talk about it. I couldn’t really see the point in trying to find my worth through trying to perfect myself to someone else’s image of who I should be, and so my relationships just weren’t as fervent and dramatic as other people’s. I got close to people who were headed the same direction as me in life; I kept my distance from people who were either trying to turn me into someone else, or to pin all their hopes and happiness for the future on me.</div>
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Neither did I try to find my value in my image. I don’t buy women’s magazines of any kind, because their prime objective is to make people think they need to be different in order to be better. The only time I allowed myself to look at them on a regular basis was when I spent a lot of time in hospital and I found myself picking them up regularly out of curiosity. Never have I been more unhappy with my figure, my complexion, my diet, my home and my relationships than when I was feeding myself with the trash that I came across in them. I soon realised why I was feeling that way and put them back down. </div>
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As a parent, the amount of opinions on how you should raise a child and people offering you ‘proof’ that any flaws in your child have come about only as a result of your lack of parenting skills is abundant. While I am extremely glad that there is more support around than ever, and resources available that means you have more options than just “I will parent exactly like my parents did’ or “I will parent exactly the opposite to how my parent did”, it still means that it’s easy to become overwhelmed by trying to perfect a role that it is utterly impossible to perform perfectly.</div>
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And the list goes on. Your career, your long term plan to achieve your hopes and dreams, your unresolved conflicts of the past, your creativity, your marriage - all these things are offered as foundations on which to build your life and define the person you will be for the rest of your life.</div>
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But this has never rung true with me. How can you find your identity in your job when you don’t know what will happen in the economy or what your future family will turn out to look like? How can you find your identity in your shape, diet or physical achievements when you never know what’s going to happen to your health in the future? How can you place all your value on somebody loving you, when you can never guarantee that person will always be there for you and will never let you down, and that even if they stick by you faithfully, eventually one day they will die? How can I build my expectations on my own self-worth and ability to get through anything, when I still struggle with the same bad habits I can’t kick, and I have no idea what mistakes I will make in the future, and can never guarantee that I won’t have problems with my own mental health?</div>
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No matter how hard we’ve looked on this earth, and I think in the last hundred years we’ve given it a darn good go, there isn’t anything we can put our trust in that is immovable, unshakeable, completely constant, will definitely bring us joy in all circumstances, and will never let us down.</div>
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And for me, the reason I’ve never wanted to put my faith in any of these things is because I’d already found my faith in something greater. </div>
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I didn’t need a man to make me feel loved or complete. I’d found that long before in my heavenly Father who already knew me inside out, yet loved me anyway. I’m grateful to have been blessed with a great husband to partner in some incredible adventure together, but our future right now is incredibly uncertain. His spine is full of tumours that are resistant to chemotherapy, and the doctors aren’t able to give us any reassurance about another way forward. But if he dies, I won’t be left unable to function and having lost my identity and purpose. I already had that before I met him, and it will continue long after, because my identity and purpose is found in God, not in a man.</div>
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I love my kids dearly, and they’ve stretched me and shaped me hugely, and taught me so much more about love - how to give it, how to receive it, and the depths to which it can go. But when we walked through one of our kids for two and a half years suffering under a debilitating disease, to the point where he couldn’t walk or use his hands anymore, and sat with him while he died at aged eight, we didn’t lose our desire to live, or lose our hope for his future. We knew his life had been mapped out at the beginning of time, and would continue on into eternity, because we know the God who created Him and is loving him better than we ever could, and that we will see him again in the future. I can continue to hold the future of all my children with an open hand, knowing my purpose is not in being their mother, it’s in being God’s child, and I just need to rest in Him and know that He’s got their future all covered.</div>
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When I found myself mother to five children, and it seemed that one of them was probably going to end up being disabled for life, and I thought I would be his full-time carer for decades, I found myself wrestling with all my previous hopes and dreams for the future. There were lots of dreams and ambitions in my heart that I thought I would get an opportunity to do while juggling motherhood, and then in even more depth when my kids were older. But as tough as it was, ultimately I was able to let all of those things go. Yes, because I love my kids, but more than that - I’ve grown up knowing that God has a plan for my life that was significant, that was perfectly shaped for me, and that it would give me ultimate satisfaction - more than the plans for my life that I came up with myself. There was a huge amount of freedom that came in letting go of all of that, and putting it in God’s hands, and He totally unexpectedly started fulfilling loads of those dreams in my life anyway, in a different and better way than I’d imagined them to be.</div>
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I don’t need to find my value in how I look and how well I’m keeping up with the changing views of society. I like having the freedom to choose what to wear and to be creative with my hair or my makeup, but that’s not because I’m trying to attain to some idea of beauty. It’s because God created me with a desire to be creative and to see beauty in the world around me. I’m not using it to try and create me in someone else’s image - I’m using it because it’s fun and because we’ve been given permission as women to do so. But my true beauty comes from knowing that I am loved and appreciated by God, and that He was willing to give up His own life for me to make sure it was possible for me to have a relationship with Him. So I don’t need to panic about my post-baby shape or my skin that still gets spots and that is showing lots of signs of stress right now, or that one day I will be old - I’m loved whatever shape I come in!</div>
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I’m really glad that women in the past have fought for change so that we live without the restrictions they grew up with. But let’s not replace the old restrictions with new ones. I don’t want to be tied to a constantly shifting, unforgiving, unattainable standard of womanhood offered up by society that will bring me misery; I want to be part of something bigger and more certain, that is greater than my ideas and desires for my life, but is actually part of something eternal. I don’t want to find my purpose and happiness in human roles and relationships - I want them to be the icing on the cake, knowing that the real way I can learn love and give love is through the One who created love.</div>
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Having faith in God is not about returning to past restrictions; it’s about being free to be the real you, fixing your eyes on someone whose acceptance of you is based on what He’s already done, not what you need to earn, and that He is alongside you through whatever life, society and circumstances throw at you. I am so glad to be the woman God created me to be, and to be blessed with what He’s given me - the good and the bad - knowing that there is even greater to come in the future.</div>
Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-7574252558839135542016-02-05T14:42:00.000+00:002016-04-05T23:53:47.506+01:00Bringing Our Mess<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I think if you asked me to tell you what I wasn't good at, you'd be there for hours. Some weeks I wonder how I am still managing to survive as a human. I am forgetful (not my fault) and undisciplined (my fault). I am rubbish at basic DIY and anything that requires coordination, which covers activities from cooking to sports to doing my daughter's hair. I have no inner clock, which makes me a poor time manager, and I am very indecisive - I can only make a firm decision at the last moment when it's too late to do anything else. I am a rubbish home manager - I read tons of books on it and have to have lists everywhere just to keep us from drowning in chaos. I have concentration issues so I have to listen with a pen in hand, or chant to myself as I'm doing a task so I don't forget what I'm doing. I have major headaches every now and then which take me out for days. Certain social situations overwhelm me and I probably confuse people by saying the wrong thing or zoning out too soon. And on and on and on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Here's what I'm good at - honesty and learning about God. Those two qualities combined means I really love to speak and write, because I get to study who is God, compare my own inadequacies, and put the two together which means people can see Him even more clearly in the contrast.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Some weekends when I am due to preach, I will make so many mistakes in every day life (the stuff other people seem to be able to handle without thinking about it) that I seriously question my ability to do anything at all. Then I use the only thing I've managed to do successfully that week - to write a sermon - and God does something amazing with it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This week I've spoken twice to groups I haven't preached to before, and both times I wrestled with the message because God wanted me to talk on grief, and if I'm honest, I still fight back a bit because I'm still gutted that's my testimony. I wish I could get up and talk about miracles instead. But that's not what I've been asked to do. So I spoke about how the bible says "Blessed are those who mourn", not "get over it and move on". Often the bible commands us to mourn, and in my experience, mourning and trusting in God (and finding joy in Him) don't have to be opposite things. Mourning is a really important process, from death to relationship breakdown to infertility to the end of a dream, because if we don't do it well, we get stuck for the rest of our lives. When we don't mourn, what we are doing is taking our loss and regret and anger, and we are putting it into a little box called "Do Not Touch" and we bury it deep down. We think we are doing God a favour by not letting it get in the way, but actually we are saying to Him that there's an area in our life that is off limits to Him, and He is not allowed to use it. We label it as bad and unnecessary to our story, when in reality He probably wants to do something amazing with it. He is not limited by "bad" or "good" experiences - He uses them all! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This stuff has become straightforward for me to speak about because I've wrestled with it deeply for the last year and a half. I have seen what God can do with it and it has made me more amazed at Him and more certain that my own strength will get me nowhere. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As a result of speaking these messages, I was able to meet some incredible people and hear their stories. These are people who are far better at handling every day life than I am - they probably have the organisation and social skills that I lack, and turn up to places on time. But they all, like me, have faced devastating situations that meant that they have had to mourn whether they wanted to or not. Some of the stories have taken my breath away. I wonder how I would've managed if I'd faced what they're facing. I wish I could tell you all their experiences but I don't want to break confidences on here.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Here's the thing - I can never get over how God takes my mess and my poorly coordinated life and He uses it for good. People shared with me how God had spoken to them as I brought my story, and that they felt important things had been unlocked right there and then. Some people weren't even supposed to be there that day but had come through unusual circumstances and heard me say things that spoke into painful situations they had been wrestling with for over a decade. My struggles and my story seemed to have broken through into areas that God wanted to open that day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">One guy's story I have to share though. He came up and grasped my hand and told me about his teenage son who had died more than twenty years ago by messing around with his friends at school. He said that he had spent the first few months after his son's death staring out of the window, unable to do anything, totally bankrupt before God (what a beautiful, painful phrase). He had poured himself out in this time and eventually been able to rise up and carry on. But for all the years since, he had looked back at that time with a burden of guilt and regret. He had wondered whether God would have wanted him to handle those first weeks differently and that had bothered him all that time since. When I was able to teach about mourning, he realised he had been seeing it wrongly for all that time, and that God used that time of brokenness just as much as He'd used all the positive activity since.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As he wrote in a letter to me later that day, "I thank you so much for retrospectively giving me permission to sit and aimlessly look out the back kitchen for those months.....Grieving for our beloved son, yes and feeling guilty for so doing - but now no longer - released from one more of life's shackles."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">That's why I'd rather be a mess in God's house than a competent coordinated person outside of it. All I have to do is bring what I have (good and bad) and give it to Him and He can use it to do all sorts of stuff I'd never imagined. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This is my continued challenge for this year - to stop looking at my inabilities and rejoice in what <b>IS</b> in my hand. I feel more certain than ever that I need to stop wishing I was someone I am not, and I just need to do what I can and lean in to Him for the rest.</span><br />
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<br />Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-11936446811773114752016-01-18T23:49:00.001+00:002016-04-05T23:52:58.469+01:00Reading List 2015<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So here it - my reading list of 2015. I'm sure I'm the only one who gets pleasure out of this and goodness knows I have a thousand other things to do other than write this out, but I'm going to do it anyway. There is something in me that loves marking my progress and my knowledge of the world - even fictional books contain so much information about history, personalities and places I've never been - and I want to stop and acknowledge the learning journey I've been on in the past year. I started doing this two years ago (for <a href="http://fullhands.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/reading-list-2014.html" target="_blank">2014</a> and <a href="http://fullhands.blogspot.co.uk/2014/01/resolutions-and-reading-lists.html" target="_blank">2013</a>) and it really spurs me on to be intentional about what I'm picking up and being interactive with.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">* = fiction</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">r = re-read</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>*One Day</i> by David Nicholls - I've seen the movie and wanted to experience the original. I really enjoyed it. It meanders through the different seasons of the lives of two people in a post-modern era and all the pitfalls and mistakes people can make. If it doesn't sound too arrogant, it made me thankful for my own straightforward relationship and purpose in life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>From Pigpen to Paradise</i> by Pam Young & Peggy Jones - You know how some people need extra motivation and clarity when it comes to dieting or relationships or parenting? Well my thing is home organisation. I need to keep focused and inspired to do it or the whole thing slides. I really liked this book from a couple of decades ago. It's really funny and realistic, about two sisters who developed a system to not let their home life overwhelm them anymore. It's really helped me this year and I would definitely recommend it (along with <i>Time Management for Manic Mums</i> by Allison Mitchell).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>How to be a Best Friend Forever </i>by Dr John Townsend - From one of the authors of the fantastic <i>Boundaries </i>series, this applies bible truths with psychology to explore the nature of friendship. I felt like it was something I needed to make sure I wasn't taking for granted, as m</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">y friends have carried me through the toughest times of my life. It helped alleviate the questions in my mind at that time and make some healthy relationship decisions.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">*<i>Elizabeth is Missing</i> by Emma Healey - This book was so very very sweet and gentle and powerful all at the same time. From the perspective of an elderly lady struggling with dementia, it mixed past historical events with a confusing modern world but it had a cleverly woven mystery to follow throughout it too. Definitely recommended reading for everyone as it gives insight that can help us empathise with people going through this difficult struggle.</span><br />
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<i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A Grief Observed</i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> by C.S.Lewis - Such a raw and honest account of how it felt to lose his wife, he released it anonymously at first. I wouldn't recommend this for any other time than when you're in a pit of grief (which is when I read it), and then it is the most powerful thing you could access. Without reservation he puts into words the hopelessness of loss and the drowning sensation it takes you through. This and Jerry Sittser's </span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A Grace Disguised</i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">, are really the only two books that connected with me on this level.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">*<i>Persuasion</i> (r) by Jane Austen - I'm sure I read it in my teens but I could only remember tiny snippets of it so it was like reading it for the first time really. Not my favourite Austen, but her writing rhythm is so good to slow down the brain and make you feel at peace, and the gentle humour and observations about human nature make me smile all the way through. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Blessing or Curse</i> by Derek Prince - This is not something I would normally have chosen but</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> last spring I was in a place of wondering what the next disaster over my life was going to be and I wanted to break free from that. I needed to know if there was anything, imagined or real, that had power over my thoughts and life. I felt dubious about it at first, but although </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Prince doesn't explain things in the same way I would - I think he overstates some things and presumes others - it's basically a biblical journey on how words and spiritual forces can affect your every day life. I began speed-reading it then went back and studied it in-depth when I saw how much scripture it investigates. It really brought me out of that place and I'm glad I pushed past my reservations to pick it up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">*<i>Shelter</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">*<i>Seconds Away</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">*</span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Found</i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> by Harlan Coben - A guilty pleasure read. I like Coben's books and keep picking them up as second-hand bargains, and I didn't realise <i>Shelter</i> was actually his foray into teen fiction. Thought I'd check it out anyway (you know, for the kids) then the first one ended on a cliffhanger so I HAD to buy the other two - at full price! Murder and intrigue with some historical mystery thrown in too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">*<i>The Froggit Chain</i> by Katharine Ann Angel - This is written by a friend of mine and is based locally. Took me a little while to grasp the characters and where the story was headed but by a quarter of a way in, you want to keep going and find out how on earth this situation is going to be resolved. The most striking thing about the book is the ordinariness of the characters. She has a fantastic way of sharing their thought process with you so you can empathise with these people who often live life unnoticed on the fringes of society.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>The Trellis and the Vine</i> by Colin Marshall and Tony Payne - A book about church structure and helping people find where they fit. The material isn't revolutionary but the crucial element of the book is that in order for the church (the vine) to grow organically, you have to build a structure (the trellis) upon which it can flourish. It's such a clear analogy that it really helps in decision making and establishing why you're doing what you're doing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>The Other Side of the Dales</i> by Gervais Phinn - Brilliant writing, about the early years in his job as a schools inspector. Like James Herriot, he has a wry insight to country life and it's a great easy read. I went to see him perform at The Dome in Morecambe a few years ago with my in-laws and he was great then too. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>*Gone Girl</i> by Gillian Flynn - Oh my word. I read this before I watched the movie and had no idea where it would go. Absolutely amazing psychological thriller with so many twists and turns that it was impossible to predict where it was going to end up. The kind of book that keeps you thinking about it long after you've finished. The movie is great too (faithful to the book) but please please read the book first. Dark but brilliant.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">*<i>Mary and Elizabeth</i> by Emily Purdy - Telling the stories of the Tudors through the eyes of the princesses who became queens. Not a bad read, but I can't read historical fiction now without comparing it to Philippa Gregory, and so it didn't really grab me much.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>The Kingdom of God </i>by Martyn Lloyd-Jones - A classic, based on his sermons on this topic. Good, powerful teaching with fantastic turns-of-phrase that makes you wish you could've heard him for real. We did a series on the Kingdom of God at church and this book helped to pull out some key points for us to focus on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Do It Tomorrow </i>by Mark Forster - Another time management book. Made for people who are working in an office setting really, so hard to apply to the various roles in my life, but some good insights into the psychology of procrastination and organisation. </span><br />
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<i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">*Swallows and Amazons </i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">(r) by Arthur Ransome - This book became very important to us halfway through this year (I'll have to share the story another time) and so I downloaded it for me and Isaac to read. Reminded me of summers in the Lake District and reading it when I was younger. I still don't understand all the boat terminology but it does make me want to go and camp out on an island.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Up the Creek....Without a Paddle </i>by Dave and Jenny Gilpin - These guys are brilliant speakers and church leaders who tell their story of moving from Australia to Britain to plant Hope City Church (which has now planted many other churches). This hilarious diary spans a couple of decades and talks about their emotional roller coaster of trial and error, seeing people come and go, projects rise and fall - it was everything I needed to read about this year as I was facing a very introspective season in my own journey of church planting. It alleviated many of my fears and self-doubts and helped me see things from a much more realistic perspective.</span><br />
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<i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Cheaper by the Dozen </i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">by Frank B. Gilbreth Jr. & Ernestine Gilbreth Carey - This is the original real life story (also a movie) that inspired the more modern movie that is one of my faves. Two of the siblings share their memories of their influential and eccentric father and their stoic mother and everything that made their household run smoothly (most of the time). A very sweet and funny account of large family life in early 20th century America.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">*<i>Innocent Traitor </i>by Alison Weir - She is one of the best history writers I've come across and this is the first novel of hers that I've read. All about the story of Lady Jane Grey, she paints a really clear picture of Tudor life and the precarious social and religious conflicts of the day. Probably my second favourite history writer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Turning Points </i>by Mark A. Noll - We used this book in our church history course at college and it's broken up into chunks that study key moments in church history, the circumstances leading up to it, and the ongoing impact of it today. Because of this, it's a good book to keep dipping into between reading other stuff, and contemplating the issues and choices that make Christianity what it is today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Very British Problems </i>by Rob Temple - Not sure it qualifies as proper reading as it's basically a Twitter feed compiled into a book, but I find these insights into social awkwardness hilarious and I identify with way too many of them. What some people call a coffee table book, I think of more as a by-the-loo kind of volume.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>*A Time to Kill </i>(r)<i> </i>by John Grisham - I shared last year my disappointment with his newer material, so I thought I'd see if I still felt the same about the original novels that I read as a teenager. This was his first novel, so it was definitely cheesy (as he admits himself) but whether it was nostalgia or not, I really enjoyed it. Think I might be tracking down copies of <i>The Pelican Brief </i>and <i>The Firm </i>for this year to see if they're the same!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">*<i>Sycamore Row</i> by John Grisham - So I had to pick up the follow up book that was released last year and had several of the same characters in it, and again, I really enjoyed it. Maybe it was because I was back in the flow, or maybe he was, but his descriptions of the small town South and the clues that keep you guessing definitely had me hooked this time.</span><br />
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<i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The Mitfords: Letters Between Six Sisters </i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">edited by Charlotte Mosley - I was watching a documentary not long ago that mentioned this family in passing and I thought they sounded interesting, so knowing nothing about them, I embarked on this collection of their letters. Wow. Written from the 1920s to the 2000s, between six sisters who grew up to be: a controversial novelist; a quiet gardener; the wife of the leader of the British fascist party; a personal friend of Hitler; a communist; and the Duchess of Devonshire. Politics, love affairs, a suicide attempt, imprisonment, royalty, miscarriage, cancer, celebrities - all these massive topics are experienced and discussed light-heartedly between grown up girls who never realised one day they would be published as a chronicle of 20th century life. Brilliantly edited. Kept me fascinated all summer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Audrey Hepburn: An Elegant Spirit </i>(r)<i> </i>by Sean Hepburn Ferrer - Every now and then this catches my eye on the bookcase and before I know it I've sat and read through the whole thing. I love this lady and this book is full of pictures and stories from her son. Made me go through all her movies again this summer - <i>Charade </i>is my favourite.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>The Plantagenets </i>by Derek Wilson - Of all the historical periods, this has been my favourite for a long time now and I keep coming back to different materials on it. This starts all the way back with Henry II so really it's the bulk of the monarchy up to the War of the Roses. A well-paced, interesting read.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Glorious Ruins </i>by Tullian Tchividjian - The tag line to this one is "How Suffering Sets You Free" and it looks at how the gospel embraces suffering rather than denying it. Brilliant handling of a subject that prevents many people from engaging with faith, if their understanding has been that God's love or existence can only be proved through positive circumstances. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>One Thousand Gifts </i>by Ann Voskamp - I love the content and the message of this book, but not the style (please don't hate me). It's a personal testimony of gratitude and how when we change our perspective, we see the glory of God and a thousand things to be thankful for every day. It is very powerful and has led many people to take up the challenge too. If you feel like you're in a very low place and struggling to see the good in your situation, this is great book for you. It's extremely wordy and poetic and that was my only issue with it - I prefer much more literal writing and I kept misunderstanding the situations she was describing because I'm an impatient reader and I was trying to get through it too fast. So learn that lesson, and take your time ;)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">*<i>Sing You Home</i> by Jodi Piccoult - Not for the fainthearted! A very meaty exploration of the psychology of music, sexuality, religion and infertility. Piccoult doing what she does best and placing you in a situation where you really don't know <i>what </i>you would do if you were there. The most interesting element to me was the approach of the characters who were representing religion and what their true motivations really were.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Dangerous Honesty </i>by Karin Cooke - Karin works with lots of people who have been affected by pornography, and through the organisation <i>Porn Scars</i> is intervening in many ways to try and change the understanding and the effects of pornography on modern life. She couldn't find a resource to help the women she kept meeting who struggled with pornography as it's generally perceived to be a male problem - so she wrote one! It's available on Amazon and a great resource for leaders, addicts and anyone working in support roles with people affected by pornography. Get it on your shelves so you're ready when you need it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">*<i>The Man in the Brown Suit </i>by Agatha Christie - My only Agatha book this year (and no Enid Blyton at all - I mustn't need the comfort blanket much anymore!). An early one, and a romance novel too, which wasn't her forte, but suitably twee and middle class to make it fun.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Serving Without Sinking </i>by John Hindley - The tagline is "How to serve Christ and keep your joy". A small book, full of wisdom. Halfway through it, I went back to the start so I could study it more in-depth. With non-complicated language, it digs down deep to the root of our motivation when it comes to serving, and how quickly we can become burnt out and weary because we're focusing on the wrong things. I want to buy lots of copies of this and share them out, because I think anyone serving in church should read it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Life Without Limits </i>by Nick Vujicic - If you haven't heard of this guy, go and look him up on YouTube and get blown away. Born without arms or legs, this guy has had to choose between self-pity and even suicide, or living his life to the fullest degree possible, and he's chosen the latter. I don't think there's a single person in any situation who wouldn't be inspired and challenged by him. He chooses not to focus on what he hasn't got, and to make the most of his abilities instead. It really is a life changing story.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Love Without Limits </i>by Nick Vujicic & Kanae Vujicic - This is the follow up story of how he met his wife and started a family. Very sweet and cheesy, but so heartwarming you can't help loving them both. I just love testimonies of how people couldn't see a way through and then God changed everything for them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>*The Last Sin Eater </i>by Francine Rivers - I had three attempts to get into this book I'd borrowed and I just couldn't engage with it. Then on the last try, I persisted a little longer and it finally grabbed me. Set in American mountains in the 1800s, it's one of those where you have to try and get your head around another culture, but once you're in, it is fascinating. A mystery story with deep spiritual reflections - I am starting to like Francine Rivers more and more.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>*The White Princess </i>by Philippa Gregory - Part of the Cousins War series, and tying together the threads from <i>The White Queen, The Red Queen </i>and <i>The Kingmaker's Daughter</i>, this was another brilliant novel, from the perspective of Elizabeth of York, daughter of Edward IV and wife of Henry VII. Gregory's magic is that she keeps the narrative consistent all the way through the series, yet with a different voice and attitude than the other protagonists who narrate each story. Every time I read one of her books, I think "That's my new favourite".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>Courageous Leadership </i>(r) by Bill Hybels - We have gone through this book a chapter a week in our Leaders Development Group this year, and it has been brilliant. Since reading it a few years ago, I could see how utilising the principles in this book really have made a difference to our church, and we have had some brilliant discussions about ourselves personally and the future of the church. For anyone anywhere in a position of influence (and I think that's most of us), this book is really valuable. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I haven't yet finished <i>Live Love Lead</i> so I'll put that in next year's review.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The books of the bible I've studied this year are Isaiah, Joshua and James.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And that is also my Be Present 366 for day eighteen - I am so glad to live in a time where all these resources are so freely available, not just because of the print but because they can be ordered, borrowed or downloaded in minutes thanks to this high tech world we live in. I can't imagine my life without books and I don't know who I'd be without them. I feel like new worlds are opened up to us every day when we open a book and allow it to stretch our minds.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4132429180894817274.post-48344752344148786242016-01-04T23:58:00.000+00:002016-04-05T23:51:22.442+01:00Grace Gifts<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Today my biggest boy is fourteen. It's the first time he's ever had to go to school on his birthday as it's usually at the end of the Christmas holidays, but I think he enjoyed it anyway. We started with a McDonalds breakfast, met up in town after school to buy new clothes and have a Costa, ate Chinese food for tea and finished with a head-to-head on his new game, The Rivals for Catan.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I got a much needed kick up the bum a few weeks ago when it came to this boy. In the last year I've been a bit too confident about this parenting teenagers thing and thought I would just take it all in my stride. I've focused very much on behaviour and responsibility and trying to turn them into men. What I haven't been focused on is the emotional change in me while watching them turn from boys to men. It's a weird thing when the boys you once threw around and wrestled can now look you in the eye without stretching their necks. It's weirder when I keep thinking there's a man in my house and realising it's just the voice of my eldest son. It's weird when they unexpectedly do things that seem really mature and grown up, like taking responsibility for making a meal, and then immediately after get into a an argument with their five-year-old sister about nothing just to see her reaction. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">These things don't make sense in my head and I feel like I'm having to jump from one mode to another as one moment I speak to them like adults and the other moment as if they're children. It requires way more flexibility and mental awareness than I want to devote to it most days, and this is why it's an important part of my "being present" challenge for this year. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When I do it wrong, I look into the past and I just want them to be children again, to be bundled in bed at a certain time, and be unaware of the grown up conversations around me, and not to be wrestling with the opinions of their peers as if they are on a par with their parents'. I tell myself if their dad was here they wouldn't use that tone of voice or giggle when I'm telling them off because I'd have back up all the time. Or I look too far ahead, and I think that because these boys are starting to look and sound and even smell (it's true) like men, that means they can shoulder the responsibility of an adult and do a thorough job of every task I set them, and understand where I'm at emotionally and be leant on when I need them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And of course, that leads to frustration and disappointment and them not being able to match up to my expectations because I'm not looking at how things are, I'm looking at how I wish they were. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">After a run of clashes (over stuff I don't even remember right now), we had a particularly huge one at the beginning of the Christmas holidays where I totally lost it with this biggest man-child for not reacting how I though he should react in a particular moment, and he got the brunt of my anger. We rushed off to wherever we were going next (because these things always happen when you're in a rush and have lots to think about and are determined to have a day of fun and so you feel like you've failed before you've even begun) and I spent the next few hours trying to fill my head with other things to cool down.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">That night we went to a carol service at another church and I was really blessed by the way it was put together and also by the kids' behaviour throughout. Then as the guy got up to speak, it was all about grace and receiving the good things God has for us. Suddenly my son was receiving a gift out of nowhere in the middle of the sermon, to demonstrate God's gifts. It was a voucher to drive a Ferrari - an experience most people wouldn't have in their lifetime. In the middle of watching him receive it, keeping the other kids occupied for the rest of the sermon, and trying to listen to the message myself, I was trying to manage my son's expectations. At first I was whispering "I'm not sure if it's real, we'll have to open it and see," and then it was "Dude, you're not even fourteen yet, I think they've made a mistake, this is probably a voucher for an adult - you might have to give it back at the end," etc. When the service finished we had a proper look, and there it was in the print - a junior experience for an under-16 to drive a Ferrari. It was real, and it was for him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I really felt God's conviction that night. I felt like I'd been looking for satisfaction in other areas of my life and trying to find crutches. I had at times tried to make my children into those crutches and that's not what they're there for. The word on my heart was grace. God's grace is enough for me, in everything I need. And therefore grace is what I need to be giving out to others, even when I don't feel they are being enough of what <i>I</i> think <i>I</i> need. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My man-child was given a costly packet of grace that night by someone who doesn't even know him, and I felt God gently prod me and say "That's what you need to be giving him more of too."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Shortly after this I was given a voucher too, by an anonymous person at church, for a massage at a local beauty spa. These two gifts have been some of my favourite from this Christmas season, not just for their extravagance, but for their timing and the smile God seemed to show as they were presented into our lives. I think He wants us both to chill a little more and enjoy this ride. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Estherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13497997500156873422noreply@blogger.com2