Changing the world one diaper at a time.

I know the plans I had

2011-09-21T06:33:00.003+01:00

I got a job.

Fifteen hours a week over three days, so I can always drop off and pick up the kids from school. Working at Family Matters Institute as an administrative assistant, I'll be with some fun and intelligent friends who are working to help families through training and the Dad Talk website. As an added bonus, I'll get to see Faith Dwight on a fairly regular basis.

So, never mind the hours of time to focus on getting a repertoire together for my market stall. Goodbye to all the sewing projects I had planned. The coat of paint for the house will have to wait a bit longer, and meals are going to become an exercise in simplicity. But I've never heard of a more perfect job, one that I was sought out to do, is term-time only, is in one of my fields of interest, and is with one fabulous group of folk.

If there was ever a time I felt Proverbs 16:9 to be true, it is now.

A tribute to mom

2011-09-15T22:14:00.007+01:00

My mother has the most gorgeous smile on the planet. It's a smile that can make everything better. It takes away fear, it inspires the best in me, it reminds me that I am loved.

I did a double-take when I saw this picture because in it I saw my mother's smile, and I was thankful that she passed on one of her greatest traits to me.

A new day

2011-09-13T20:40:00.002+01:00

It's been a year and three days since my last post.

I thought I was going to give the blog up altogether, but I just can't seem to let go completely. Part of my problem is what I like to refer to as Jo March syndrome. Like her, I should have been a great many things. And I'm still trying to narrow down my interests to a manageable mix of fun and mentally stimulating activities that perhaps may one day turn into a living.

My latest love is sewing. I've been making dresses, baby clothes, quilts, bags, stuffed animals, etc. I have also dabbled in gardening, baking, painting, decorating, starting a moms and tots group, and looking into finally finishing my degree (choices narrowed down to law, social work, midwifery and culinary arts). Like I said, a great many things.

Tomorrow marks the end of an era in my life. My baby girl is starting full-time education. Diapers are a thing of the past, and now so are mid-day play dates, lazy mid-week mornings, late afternoon snuggles on the sofa. I will no longer hear the phrase, "Is it time to pick up my stisters?" several times each day. In fact, I may never hear it again.

Tomorrow I will drop all three of my children off to school and start my new life as a...

If only I knew how to complete that sentence. I'm thinking perhaps it's time to start up the blog again as I figure it out.

Choosing sides

2010-09-10T21:23:00.004+01:00

A birth
A death
An operation
A departure

All happened across a massive expanse
That I cannot cross today
Or tomorrow or the next
Because money and time prohibit the journey

A relatively short voyage
Will allow me to briefly partake
In the lives I'm missing on that side
But the life on this side will beckon me home

Here I laugh and love and enjoy
Grieve and commune and live
And also pine for what I can for now
Only partake of in my imagination

Across the ocean
That is deceptively vast
Lies a world I long for
But here is bounty beyond measure

Forever torn
But still choosing here
Conscious that the other world
Holds the same fate

Battle of the Bulge

2010-09-05T21:30:00.002+01:00

I've had an ongoing battle with my weight since I hit puberty. I just love food. And wine. And I have this terrible habit of celebrating with food when I hit my weight-loss goals. Also of comforting myself with food. I knew I was a comfort eater the day my boxes arrived in England from America. The movers stacked all the boxes into the smallest room of our house, and you couldn't even walk in. The room was full floor to ceiling with boxes, a veritable mountain of boxes. Our freezer was in our back garden in a spider-infested, dimly-lit shed. I took a spoon outside, took out the Ben & Jerry's and stood there devouring the Caramel Chew Chew right from the tub until I felt strong enough to face the mountain.

I've realized this summer that not only am I sabotaging my dreams of the perfect body when I behave this way, I'm sabotaging my intimacy with God. Physical fitness and spiritual fitness cannot be separated, at least not in my world. When I choose food to give me comfort instead of letting the Comforter do his job, I become a bit fatter and a bit more deaf to God's voice, which has definitely happened this summer as I've lost all routine and all discipline!

But I took up arms again today. I went for a run, skipped my evening glass of wine, and am going to bed with my Bible instead of the trashy novel I finished last night. Let the battle begin. Again.

Hearing God

2010-08-27T08:53:00.004+01:00

I've been practicing listening to God lately, or at least trying to, and I am amazed at the subtlety and flow of his voice. Of particular note is when he told me Stacy was going to get pregnant last November when I was in DC. My friend Laurie was talking about her miracle baby, and I looked over at Stacy and just knew she was next. It wasn't a prophetic word as we might be used to. I had no intention of sharing it with anyone, and I don't really know why I got it, but when I got an e-mail a month later from Stacy asking me to ring her, I was pretty sure I knew what she was going to say. I've spent the last nine months praying for this little miracle, and yesterday I had the strangest feeling that I was missing the birth, but then I remembered she wasn't actually scheduled for her c-section for five more days, so I relaxed. But my husband came rushing into our room this morning to say baby Stav had arrived. Strange. I don't know what it's for, and maybe it is all a big coincidence and my hopes just happening to come true, but what it makes me feel is that God knows how much I miss my friends, and he's connecting me to them and reminding me that though the world is vast, he's holding us together.

Writers block

2010-08-26T19:39:00.002+01:00

I've got it bad.

I think part of the problem is that I've been a bit sad this year. I've been struggling with some friendships and some family stuff and some church stuff and have generally felt quite misunderstood, and I can't just put that out into cyberspace for any old person to read and feel slated. And since I don't do surface, I've been a bit stuck. But I stupidly challenged my friend to each write something "good" before his baby's due in five short days, and since he has smacked down, watch this space. I'm not one to bow out of a challenge.

Life with God

2010-01-23T16:22:00.003Z

I have just finished the incredible Life with God by Richard Foster. In it, Dr. Foster explains the life-transforming power of the Immanuel Principle, or the with-God life, as proclaimed in the Bible. He encourages the reader to delve into the story of God with the heart, with the mind, and in the context of the greater community of believers. The book is filled with practical instruction and application for reading the Bible, listening to God, lectio divina, and spiritual disciplines, all the while maintaining that Christianity cannot be about a list of rules and boxes to tick, but about the Divine-human relationship, which is different for each individual. His passion for God and God's written word, as well as for His church, is screaming from the pages, and it is contagious. Well worth a read. Here's a sample of its brilliance:

The with-God kind of life that we see in the Bible is the very life to which we are called. It is, in fact, exactly the life Jesus is referring to when he declares, "I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly" (John 10:10, KJV). It is a life of unhurried peace and power. It is solid. It is serene. It is simple. It is radiant. It takes no time, though it permeates all of our time.

But such a life does not simply fall into our hands. Frankly, it is no more automatic for us than it was for those luminaries who walk across the pages of our Bible. There is a God-ordained means to becoming the kind of persons and the kind of communities that can fully and joyfully enter into such abundant living. And the "means" involve us in a process of intentionally "training...in godliness" (1 Tim. 4:7). This is the purpose of the Disciplines of the spiritual life. Indeed, Scripture itself is the primary means for the discovery, instruction, and practice of the Spiritual Disciplines, which bring us all the more fully into the with God life.

The women's intimacy group that I am a part of is going through the book and the following questions.

Chapter 1: Seeing the Bible Afresh

1. “A Spiritual Discipline is an intentionally directed action by which we do what we can do in order to receive from God the ability (or power) to do what we cannot do by direct effort.” What things would you like to do that you do not have the power to do? What spiritual discipline (see list on page 14) would best allow you to receive that power from God.
2. Discuss the statement “The opposite of grace is works, but not effort.”
3. Choose a Bible story to read and relate to as described in the final section “Go and Do Likewise”.

Chapter 2: Entering the World of the Bible

1. In the first chapter, Dr. Foster writes that grace is not the opposite of effort. In this chapter he highlights that following Jesus is not about checking off a “to-do” list but about the condition of our hearts. Do you tend to err on the side of grace or the side of legalism?
2. Dr. Foster says that the Bible is a story and a messy one at that. Do you agree?
3. Many of us carry baggage when it comes to reading the Bible. We find it dull, or hard work, or something we do out of guilt, or we have lots of Bible knowledge but don’t feel like it changes the way we live. What are your personal hang-ups when it comes to the Bible?
4. Choose a passage and practice reading the Bible expectantly, attentively, and humbly. Do you find this changes how you interact with the Bible?

Chapter 3: Experiencing the With-God Life

1. Meditate on the scriptures listed on pgs 38-39. Which is your favourite/speaks most to your situation/gives you the most hope?
2. Have you ever or do you now feel that God is far off? What can you do to combat those feelings? Do you struggle with the urge to reject God?
3. Choose one of the stories listed on 45-47, or choose one not listed if you’d rather, and ask God to speak to you. What does he have to say to you?
4. Meditate on the “I Am” statements on 50-51. What do they tell you about your relationship with Jesus?
5. Discuss the statement “We know that our character is shaped by what we immerse ourselves in” along with Colossians 3:1-4.

Chapter 4: Reading with the Heart

1. Discuss the statement by William Law regarding intention.
2. On pages 59-61 Dr. Foster lists some dangerous notions of Bible-reading that can keep us from really engaging with God. Do you relate to any of these?
3. Do you find that you talk about experiencing God more often than you actually experience God?
4. Practice lectio divina this week. How do you find it? What do you enjoy? What do you find difficult?

Chapter 5: Reading with the Mind

1. Do you tend to meet with God when you read the Bible?
2. Do you feel confident that the Holy Spirit helps you to interpret Scripture? Why or why not?
3. Choose one of the genres of Scripture to focus on this week. What question does Dr. Foster suggest you ask? What did you hear God say?
4. “Each one of us adds to [God’s story] with the little life we bring into its great life, as drops of rainwater add to a rushing stream.” How does that make you feel about your life?

Chapter 6: Reading with the People of God

1. Hebrews 10:24-25. Do you have people who encourage you and provoke you to love and good deeds? If not, why do you think that is? If so, do you feel like you reciprocate?
2. Do you identify with our community or do you have an “us” and “them” mentality?
3. Of the six streams, which do you identify with most? Which would you like to experience more?

Chapter 7: The Disciplines of Relationship

1. Discipline is the ability to do the right thing at the right time for the right reason. In what area of your life do you most require discipline?
2. Commit to memory the verses listed at the bottom of page 137. Exodus 15:2, Isaiah 30:18, 1 Peter 5:7
3. We are always being formed by something. Take time to ask God what is forming you. Do you feel him prompting you to any action?
4. Consider the disciplines of abstinence and engagement. As God to show you a discipline to practice this week.

Chapter 8: The Way of Freedom

1. Take some time to imagine with God what you life would look like if you engaged with invitation of “will you be with Me?” in every aspect of your life.
2. ‘Jesus has promised to be our ever-present teacher and guide.’ Practice ‘holy expectancy’ this week by asking God to speak to you and writing down what he says.
3. What are the five ‘guardrails’ of indirection. Are there any you struggle with? Any you find particularly encouraging?

Chapter 9: Living by Grace

1. Discuss Foster’s opening statement, “Christians need grace far more than ‘sinners.’” Do you agree with Bonhoefer’s definitions of cheap grace and true, costly grace? Does this change your view of living by grace?
2. Ask God to interrupt your daily life this week and pay attention to what he is doing. Meditate on one of the scriptures on page 188. What is God saying to you about grace?
3. ‘Faith is the willingness to trust that God is at work. Faith gives rise to hope, which is the refusal to accept the world at face value. Love involves clearheaded action toward God and other, rooted in Jesus’ sacrificial action on our behalf. Grace is relational and active.’ Meditate on these statements. How do they effect you? What is God saying to you?
4. In order to enter this zoë life, what do you feel called to yes to? What might you need to say no to?

The best preach ever

2010-01-12T17:36:00.002Z

My friend Wendy gave an amazing preach on Sunday. It was all about God's unfailing goodness and our identity based on the fact that we are created by God and covered in the blood of Jesus. While there were a couple of points I didn't completely agree with (for example, I would say that rather than being given a new identity when we become Christians, we are merely stepping into an identity that God has already given everyone but that most people do not walk in), I am in awe of what she had to say and want to commend her for giving me and everyone there on Sunday something to think and pray over.

Emmanuel

2009-12-24T11:46:00.002Z

I was struck with awe this week at the thought of what the advent of Jesus means to me. A feeling of giddiness overcame me as I realised that when Jesus came into the world, an infant of a poor carpenter and his young bride, born under suspicious circumstances and of questionable lineage, not within the constructs of the Jewish calendar but coinciding with the census of the Roman empire, that God announced loudly and clearly that everyone is included. All are welcome, all are accepted. Whether a prostitute, an adulteress, a murderer, a magician, a thief, an orphan, a widow, a societal outcast, none are too low to have God live among them.

And so I, with all my faults and insecurities, have become a daughter of the God of the universe, a friend of the King of Kings. Emmanuel is with me. I, who was once far away, without hope and without God in the world, have been brought near through Christ. He is my peace and my access to the Father.

May we find peace, and know God with us, as we celebrate the Advent of our Lord.

Winter

2009-11-25T22:03:00.002Z

Having come home from sunny California where we swam outside most days and only wore a sweater occasionally in the evening to blustery England where we've pulled out our winter coats, hats and gloves, it would be easy for me to sink into the mire of self-pity, wondering what in the world I am doing living in this climate. But as I was walking through the field to preschool yesterday, I felt God reminding me that Winter teaches me about faith. When the trees are bare, the flowers have died, the wind is bitterly cold, and most of the wildlife have gone into hiding, I find it easy to get down. I find it easy to hate England. I find it hard to get out of bed before the sun is up and to stay up hours after it has gone to bed for the night. The shortest day of Winter here in England is less than 8 hours long.

But Faith is believing in something that we cannot see. It is believing despite the evidence of the barren landscape that Spring is just around the corner, and new twigs and buds and baby animals will be bursting forth in just a few short months. Faith is believing that despite the darkness of the day, God promises His Kingdom will reign, and that I am one of the instruments of His Kingdom. So whether I see it or not, I have to believe that He is at work under the bark, the frozen ground, in the burrows and the caves, waiting to burst forth in light, and that my prayers and good works and acts of faith are bringing that Kingdom just a little closer.

Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

No more diapers

2009-10-18T18:01:00.003+01:00

It's official. My days of diapering are done. Macy is sleeping through the night without nappies, as of the last two nights. I'm not sure what that does for my blog, as I'm no longer changing diapers. I'm hoping it will mark a change in my life that means more head space and more writing space, but maybe I need to change my blog title! Suggestions?

How does my garden grow?

2009-04-14T22:30:00.005+01:00

My mother-in-law gave me this great book a year or two ago, and I finally found the time to do one of the many great projects in it. We spent most of the last three days in the garden, getting very dirty and having lots of fun, and we now have peas, carrots and lettuce planted in the vegetable patch, and we have lemon thyme, sweet peas, dianthus, and erysimums in our "smells of spring" flower patch.

Mummy-fied

2009-04-09T20:40:00.003+01:00

I never wanted to be a mummy, which is the unfortunate English term for a mother. I am Mommy, Mama, or Mom, thank you very much, indeed. But as my children's English accents are becoming more pronounced, I am slowly leaving my identity as Mom and moving into one of Mummy. Which is probably appropriate, as my waking hours are becoming more and more about mindless wandering, doing tasks that require little if any brain-power. If anyone sees me walking with my arms out in front of me, knees not bending, don't be alarmed, I've just been mummy-fied.

Looking for God

2009-03-21T10:07:00.002Z

I have been doing my annual attempt to read the Bible in a year again. I usually get to the minor prophets sometime in the summer and get so unbelievably bored that I give up. This year I am on track to read the Bible in three years, which is probably a more reasonable goal for a mother of three. What has struck me most in my readings is how very present God is. I so often look for God in the heavens, as an other-earthly being who needs to come down and step in to my situation. But what I see again and again with Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Sarah, and Moses is that they often engaged with God without even realizing to whom they were speaking until he had left. And that reminded me of Jesus when he said that whenever we clothe/feed/house a stranger, we are clothing/feeding/housing him. And somewhere else the Bible mentions hosting angels without being aware of it.

While this revelation isn't earth-shaking, it has made me see my life just a little differently. Rather than looking for God to come down, I'm wondering how many times I've missed him and I've started looking for him everywhere.

Celtic Daily Prayer

2009-01-13T20:07:00.004Z

I don't know what's happened to me, but I feel like I'm changing. I just feel so much more calm. Life is not easier, I am no less busy, but I somehow am just not so bothered. Maybe it's the prayers.

The Brothers K

2009-01-13T20:02:00.002Z

By far my favorite book ever written. So much so that even though I have what feels like no time, I am reading it (well, listening to it, actually--I LOVE AUDIBLE!) for the third time. Thank you Madam Duffy for the best gift ever.

I've got five minutes.

2009-01-12T21:58:00.003Z

I dreamt last night that I wrote the most profound post ever written. It was as if God himself had spoken through my keyboard, and it was beautiful. I read it out in my dream, and then I woke up and it was gone.

I am struggling to juggle kindergarten and preschool and play groups and discipline and diapers and whining and reading and cooking and cleaning and the endless tidying and streams of questions and whys and the me-time that I so desperately need and the wife-time that my husband needs and the husband time that I need and wondering how long we can go on at this pace. I'm reading Job and realizing that it's just all too big, and so I embrace what I can and let go of what I can't and practice just being and knowing that God is good.

Sometimes it's the joy in the midst of pain that is the most satisfying.

Where have I been?

2008-11-06T15:02:00.002Z

I am not sure. Between Cerys starting school, my sister coming to stay, and still not having a computer, I have not posted in two months. Ridiculous. Here are a few photos and a slightly exaggerated but very entertaining little excerpt from Katy's most recent letter home.

The nieces are even more adorable, precocious and energetic than I remembered, and I am grateful to them for keeping me smiling, frantic and fit!

Cerys has started school, and rides her bike there each day...I don't think you can know what 'precious' is until you've witnessed a 4 year old situated about 3 inches from the ground on her pink, streamer-adorned bicycle, shouting "Look at how fast I'm going!!!!!!!" and pedaling like the dickens to keep up with mommy, who's struggling to maintain a 2 MPH speed on her own adult bicycle as she tries to avoid leaving her daughter in the dust. Cerys has developed quite a sense of humor in her young age as well, and it's not rare for Greta to have to turn around in the car and inform her that it's time to stop talking about 'bottoms and smelly face sausage roll heads.'

We celebrated Addien's 3rd birthday a few Saturdays ago (and again the following Sunday...and I think she brought treats in to preschool to celebrate her birthday that Monday as well) with a strawberry cake and pink balloons and a pink tea set and a pink dress and a pink necklace, bracelet and ring set...um, Auntie Anna anyone? Addien loooooooves being a girlie-girl, and changes into a new pretty dress approximately every 2.8 minutes. She's also quite accomplished at coloring, bouncing on the trampoline and watching Enchanted.

Macy the Mischievous is loads of fun, toddling all over the house and carrying on a methodical routine of removing all of the tupperware, piece by piece, from her favorite cupboard after breakfast, lunch and dinner. She's quite an accomplished singer at 18 months as well; her rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star (complete with accompanying actions) will change your life. I think my favorite Macyism, though, is her pouty face, which she has transformed into an art...There's the "I stuck!" pout, the "If Addien or Cerys tries to pick me up one more time...!" pout, the "How dare you have a snack without offering me half" pout, and my personal favorite, the "I know I'm not supposed to be doing this, but you just try and stop me" half grin/half pout pout.

First Days at School

2008-09-10T06:55:00.004+01:00

Cerys started kindergarten (or reception, as it's called in the UK) on Monday, and Addien started preschool. In an effort to save our planet from carbon emissions, as well as our pocketbooks from the rising cost of fuel, we are riding bikes to school. I came home for the morning with just Macy and didn't know what to do with myself. I just walked through the house a few times, wondering at the quiet, and then turned the radio on for the first time in four years only to discover that I do not like Christian radio. But I digress. Cerys is loving her mornings at school. Addien enjoyed her first morning at pre-school and will do her second today. And Macy savoured being in the house with just her mommy with no big sisters to steal her toys, push her over, or tell her what to do. I got a little bit teary when I saw Cerys in her uniform for the first time, and last night I had a little bit of a panic that this is it, I now have a child in school and I don't get a do-over with her first four years, but that quickly passed, and I think I will really enjoy this next phase of life.

Ephesians revisited

2008-08-28T21:24:00.002+01:00

I realise in retrospect (isn't that always the way with me?) that my post about Ephesians may have come across a bit like me sticking out my chest to say "Wow! Look at me!" May I humbly apologise and assure you that is not the case. Rather, I am quite likely to fail. And so, just like when I run, I thought if someone could run alongside me to spur me on, I might go a little further than I would on my own. To answer the question of how I'm going about it: I have the first 14 verses above my sink and I say them outloud when I am doing dishes and then I say them again and again any time I think of it. I've got 10 verses down and am almost there with the next two. So yes, one bite (or verse or diaper) at a time.

'Tis a gift to be simple

2008-08-22T09:06:00.002+01:00

My husband may not be able to do this, but he can definitely think outside the box. When our kitchen tap broke last weekend, I went to the local DIY store and picked up a handle conversion kit and a new tap just in case the kit didn't work. But as I stressed about teaching myself a bit of plumbing he got out the superglue and fixed it right up, saving us a fantastic £75.00. Well done, babe!

Come on!

2008-08-22T09:00:00.002+01:00

Not as in, "You're kidding!", but as in, "Let's see some more!"

Check out Simon's blog. Since I know him personally, and I trust him implicitly, and I know how tough the teenagers in Bedford town centre are, I find this incredibly exciting!!!!!

Anyone game?

2008-08-15T08:51:00.002+01:00

In my pursuit of God's peace, I've decided to memorize Ephesians by the end of the year. I've conquered the first 8 verses. Anyone care to pace me?

Cerys takes off

2008-08-06T15:44:00.002+01:00

Cerys learned to ride her bike this week. My baby is growing up!

An attempt at writing

2008-07-29T08:55:00.001+01:00

John 14:27—Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.

Jesus gave his disciples this promise as he was preparing them for his departure. It is a promise that carries on to us and is meant for all of us. No matter what our circumstances, whether we are in war-torn Sudan struggling to survive or in a middle-class suburb working a 9-5 job; divorced, married or single; rich or poor; male or female, Jesus promised us peace. Peace that in Philippians 4:7 is called the “peace of God, which transcends all understanding [and will] guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

As a full-time mom of three young children, I wouldn’t say that peace is one of the first adjectives that spring to mind when describing my life or me. Frantic, rushed, worried, stretched, busy, tired--those all fit the bill quite well, but I don’t know that peace reigns in my house very often. However, God has been teaching me over the last few months that peace is not only possible, but quite easily accessible, even for those of us who feel stretched to our capacity.

About four months ago I had an experience that really highlighted my longing for this peace. It was a rainy day, and I had decided to spend the morning tidying up the girls’ bedrooms. After an hour of sorting clothes, picking up toys, refereeing arguments, and trying to keep the 9-month old baby from eating anything sharp or toxic I looked around to find that the room was actually in a worse state than when I had started. I called my husband in tears, and he kindly suggested that I pack up the girls and get out of the house for the day. And so we ended up in Hobbycraft, one of my favourite places because it reminds me of America, and you can buy lots of fun things for the kids to do without breaking the bank. As we strolled through the store the kids found it difficult to keep their hands off all the gorgeous fabrics, beads, paints, paintbrushes and stickers, and we loaded the basket with lots of fun craft supplies. As we were nearing the back of the store I heard my name called out over the loud speaker. A little worried, I rushed to the front of the store with my baby on my hip and two toddlers in tow to find that they had found my purse, which I hadn’t yet realized I’d lost. As I approached the desk the lady behind the counter commented, “Now here’s a frazzled mother.”

Hurt by her insensitivity, I fought back tears and told her off in a hundred different ways in my head. “You don’t know what my life is like. I’m doing the best I can. My kids are really well behaved considering how young they are. What’s wrong with you?” Appearing unshaken on the outside I smiled and signed for my purse and went off to pay for my goods, and on the car ride home and for the rest of the day, I fumed at this woman who had insulted my image as a cool, calm, collected mother. In reality, I hadn’t been feeling particularly frazzled at that moment, and I have a long-standing habit of losing my purse which dates back to well before I had children, but her comment had seared me like a hot poker and had me reeling for the rest of that day and the next.

On reflection I realized that the hurt was because I want to be a calm mother, but in reality I often feel frazzled, and out-of-control, and because of that I often feel like a failure. As I have prayed about this situation, and through various divine or chance encounters, I have come to see that though life is busy and can feel overwhelming, Jesus has promised us peace, and if we can access it and live with it at the core of our beings, we can live a much richer, fuller life that becomes progressively less frantic and more enjoyable. And while this will be great for us as individuals, the really exciting thing is that it will be noticeable to the people around us who expect to see frazzled mothers, impatient commuters, high-strung executives, etc., but who, instead, find people who are enjoying their lives and thriving.

I am not talking about becoming a robot who is unaffected by difficult circumstances. Rather, I am talking about someone who can live in the reality of modern life with honesty about the toughness but with a tangible peace that only comes from our Father God. Think about the ocean on a day of rough surf. The appearance is of crashing waves, which will knock inexperienced swimmers and surfers off their feet and send them tumbling, bruised and even broken, to shore. But the experienced surfer knows how to either catch the wave at its break and ride it smoothly to shore, or if he misses it, to dive under the crashing wave to where the water is peaceful and calm, and where he can wait a moment until the tumult passes. Such is a life with Jesus. If we let him, he can bring us safely to shore or sit with us until the storm passes. The alternative is to try to do it on our own and let life beat us down.

One of my biggest concerns as I have been on this journey is that I don’t have enough time. I don’t have time to sit with Jesus; there is just too much to do! And when I have talked to my friends about this topic they have often had the same concern. We have meals to prepare, dishes to do, nappies to change, the school run, swimming lessons, ballet lessons, ad nauseam. My husband has client meetings, e-mails, phone calls, deadlines. But consider Martin Luther who said, “I have so much business I cannot get on without spending three hours daily in prayer.” What was he talking about? I believe he had come to understand that our supernatural God offers supernatural assistance when we take the time to honour him, seek him, and invite him into our day.

God demonstrated that fact for me a few weeks ago. Tim, my husband, came home from work on Friday, and as we sat down to chat after the kids were in bed, I asked if he’d noticed how tidy the house was. He bit his lip and said, “It’s not just tidy, it’s incredibly peaceful.” That week I had made the decision to spend the first 20 minutes of my afternoon when the kids are in bed or at school meditating on scripture. Before I touched the laundry or the dishes, I sat down and read a verse of scripture and meditated on it until I felt satisfied that I had communed with God. And somehow my house was tidier at the end of the week than it had been in eons. That is not to say that by spending time with God we can guarantee our house will be tidier, our work will be easier, and we’ll be rich and healthy. But it is to testify that God is faithful to give back to us more than what we give to him and that he longs to come into our lives and help us where we will let him. This is not about striving to “do better” or be a better Christian, or to make God happy. It is about coming into our inheritance of the abundant life that Christ has promised us, and into the peace which he said he has given us.

One of the biggest helps I have found since this journey started is the book Practicing His Presence, a compilation of letters from Brother Lawrence and Frank Laubach. These men practiced fixing their thoughts on Jesus throughout their days and found that they were able to meet with Jesus just as well in the kitchen as in the prayer room. I have been practicing this for the last six weeks or so and have found it to be a challenging and exciting exercise. The following are some of the things I’ve tried and have found helpful. Remember, these are not things to strive for in order to earn any favour with God. They are just ways to open yourself up to God’s presence, which will aid you and make your life better! Don’t beat yourself up if you can’t or don’t want to do them. Striving is fruitless. Just listen and wait for your desire for God to come bubbling up and then try again.

1. Take time to sit with Jesus.
I have found that I can meet with God much better throughout the day while going about my daily tasks if I take a designated amount of time to spend with God. This can be reading the Bible, praying, meditating, painting, journaling, etc.--anything that equates to a face-to-face between you and God.

2. Pray.
“And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints.” Eph. 6:18
“Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” 1 Thess. 5:16-18
Had you asked me a year ago, I would have told you that Paul was exaggerating when he said we should pray continually and on all occasions. Surely that’s not possible! But I have come to understand that as we train our minds to focus on Jesus, it becomes habit to pray and to invite Jesus into every circumstance. When I see a pretty flower I thank God for designing it. When my kids hurt themselves, I pray for healing. When I don’t know what to say, I pray for wisdom. I am nowhere near the point of being able to say that I pray continually. I couldn’t even say I pray once an hour. But I can say that I pray more today than I did last month, and that I will pray more next month than I did today because I am practicing turning to God in every circumstance.
When my mind is wandering, I try to pray in tongues, which is an exercise for the soul. This is particularly helpful when I find myself singing nursery rhymes when the kids aren’t even around, or when we’re driving in the car and listening to the Tweenies theme tune for the tenth time. Praying in tongues directs our hearts to God without us having to engage our intellect.

3. Lectio Divina and other meditations
Lectio Divina is a meditation technique which translates to “divine reading.” It is a way to study, ponder, listen and pray from God’s words. More information can be found on http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lectio_Divina. Set aside a time to meditate on scripture in this way or in another way that suits you. Painting, chanting, walking, playing an instrument--all with the mindset of contemplating a specific scripture--can open you up to understanding and hearing from God through his written word.

4. Memorize scripture
The word of God is a sword for battle (Eph. 6:17), and faith comes from hearing the word (Rom 10:17). Memorizing scripture will build your faith and enable you to declare it to others. I keep a passage of scripture hanging next to my sink so that I can read it and say it out loud while I do my dishes and have found it a very effective and easy way to memorize large chunks of scripture.

5. Sing to God
When you find yourself humming a tune, try singing a hymn or praise song instead. Or you could make up your own song to God. One of my friends has worship music playing in the background whenever I’m at her house, and I think it sets such a great mood in her home. That’s not to say that we can never listen to anything other than “Christian” music, but feeding our minds and souls with music that directs us to God opens us up to God.

6. Practice being present in each moment
When I was on a retreat at Turvey Abbey earlier this year we did a walking meditation where we practiced being aware of our surroundings: the birds singing, the feel of grass and rocks under our feet, the wind blowing, the sun shining, etc. During this time I realized that I spend a great deal of my day not in the present, but dwelling on the past or future—what I have to do that day, what I would have liked to say to the rude person at the supermarket, where I want to go on holiday, etc. In an age where multi-tasking is a sign of greatness, it is difficult to purposely stop and be engaged in a sole task or conversation. But, being present in the moment keeps us from stressing, from going over and over a confrontation in our minds, from worrying about the test results we’re waiting for; it helps us to engage more fully with those around us; and it opens us up to hearing from God by kicking out all the clutter that clouds our thoughts. It also opens us up to joy. My husband was with my kids at a public toilet, and he was amazed when they started jumping up and down, laughing, when the hand dryer came on. They stood under the warm air, squealing with delight over this simple piece of technology. We were both challenged to appreciate the simple gifts that God gives us in nature and in our interactions by practicing being present both in the mundane and the extraordinary.

7. Turn your mind to Jesus
Practice being aware of your thoughts, and when you realize your consciousness has wandered to something unimportant, gently bring it back to Jesus. In doing so, you will become more aware of God and will be more able to hear him and will naturally become more like him.

8. Take care of yourself
I don’t know about you, but one of my biggest weaknesses is food. I love food. I love chocolate, crisps, toast laden with butter, caffe mochas, cakes. Heaven. But one of the greatest things we can do to step into an abundant life is to take care of ourselves. Eat well and get your rest. If I were reading this and not writing it, my first thought would probably be something like, “Oh great, just one more thing to do—diet.” It’s not like that. If that’s your thought, then lay this one down until God talks to you about it. But if you hear God whispering to you when you grab a chocolate bar, “Don’t eat that—it will just make you sleepy,” or when you feel disappointed that you’re too tired in the middle of the afternoon to sit with God, then maybe it’s time to re-think what we’re putting into our bodies. These bodies were the highlight of creation, and it’s our job to care for them. Try an experiment: lay off sugar, alcohol, and processed foods for two weeks, and make sure you’re getting at least five fruits and vegetables a day during that time. You will be surprised at the end at how much more energy you have. Grab a friend and ask him/her to do it with you to help keep you motivated.

Please remember that all of these suggestions are just suggestions. There is no 12-step program for becoming more Christ-like. And I cannot stress enough that striving is futile. The deep mystery of our faith is the balance of grace and works, and only a prayerful relationship with God and other believers will keep you in the right balance. I have found such a wonderful release over the past few months as I’ve come to understand that my job is merely to position myself. I do not need to work at becoming perfect; I simply need to allow God to make me so. But these disciplines can get us in the right position to allow God to get to work.

My weekend at Turvey Abbey brought many insights, and one of the biggest was a picture I got of a mother weaning her young baby. As she gave him the first spoonful of real food, the whole family crowded around to watch, and they broke into applause as he sucked down his first bite. So it is with God as he weans us away from the things that entangle us. He shows us the things we’re going to work on next, and then slowly, tenderly, lovingly, he weans us, applauding every small effort and taking us onto the next step.

As we grow in practicing these disciplines, God will begin to shine through us more brightly. We will become a generation who are thriving, regardless of our personal circumstances. God will give us wisdom and patience for our kids, deeper love and respect for our husbands, wives, and friends, concern for our neighbors, and most of all, peace--an abiding sense of peace, knowing that God is with us, and that we are with him. The world will see it, and they will want it. And that is exciting! If you think so, too, grab a friend, or me, and let’s work on this together. Let’s go for it, casting down everything that hinders us and taking on what God is speaking to us about, aligning ourselves with him and his plan to bring peace to the world he created and loves.

Quotes that get me through

2008-07-13T18:53:00.003+01:00

Do not let your soul be your counsellor. Regardless of your experience, God is good.
-Bill Johnson

His grief he will not forget; but it will not darken his heart, it will teach him wisdom.
-Aragorn, Lord of the Rings, The Return of the King

We shall also find God in our most menial tasks. Indeed, when we perform a menial task with the same spiritual care as we perform our worship, then God will shine in us equally in both...all normal work in the world can be offered to God in the same way that we offer prayers.

-Meister Eckhart

Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father;
There is no shadow of turning with Thee.
Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not;
As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.

Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness!
Morning by morning new mercies I see;
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided
Great is Thy Faithfulness, Lord unto me.

Summer and winter and spring-time and harvest,
Sun, moon and stars in their courses above
join with all nature in manifold witness
To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.

Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness!
Morning by morning new mercies I see;
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided
Great is Thy Faithfulness, Lord unto me.

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth,
Thy own dear presence to cheer and to guide,
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,
Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness!
Morning by morning new mercies I see;
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided
Great is Thy Faithfulness, Lord unto me.

-Thomas. O. Chisholm

Drama Queen

2008-06-26T08:53:00.003+01:00

In my head, I am a very cool, calm, and collected mother who, above all else, is IN CONTROL. I didn't realize how much this image means to me until last night, when I completely lost all that could be considered calm and FREAKED OUT.

I was in our bathroom running the girls' bath. Macy was outside screaming because she wanted to come in and couldn't because the floor is stripped of carpet and covered in mildew. (Whoever thought it was a good idea to carpet a room which has the sole purpose of being wet was a little stupid, if you want my honest opinion. But I digress.) Cerys was standing in the doorway blocking Macy's way. The screaming didn't change pitch, but I heard Cerys' little voice saying "I'm sorry, Mommy. I didn't mean to." I looked down to see Macy's mangled pinky finger, which had just escaped from being trapped in the hinge side of a closing bathroom door. I have never seen anything so disgusting. The tip of her pinky finger was mangled. Almost completely flat in two different locations, and bent to one side. I was sure it was going to fall off. I just started screaming. Not yelling, just hysterically screaming. I'm not sure where the cool, calm, collected mother went, or perhaps she is just a fantasy, but a hysterical, irrational, foolish mother stepped in and called the ambulance. An ambulance!! For a finger! I just didn't know what else to do. I had two other crying children on my hands, no husband, no neighbors at home, a car, but no wits about me with which to operate a vehicle. And so I called 999, emergency services, and ordered up an ambulance. I then called my husband and screamed "GET HOME NOW". Then I called my friend Peggie, and did the same thing to her. The paramedic arrived to one screaming baby, two crying children, a chagrined, sobbing mother, and a pinky that had miraculously reformed into a rather normal looking finger, except for a bit of under-surface blood and swelling.

They decided to take us in anyway, for x-rays, and so we strapped her carseat onto the gurney, as she screamed, and Peggie stayed with the girls until Tim arrived. About 10 minutes into the ride, the Children's Nurofen and perhaps some adrenaline kicked in, and Macy happily flirted with the paramedic until we got to the hospital. For the next two hours I sat and paced, and held Macy who couldn't have been happier to have alone-time with her mommy in a fun waiting area filled with germ-infested toys. When the results of the x-ray came back completely clear, I was equally relieved and annoyed, really glad that Macy was okay, but also thinking that I had once again wasted several hours of my life in the emergency room waiting area for nothing.

I pray there won't be a next time, but if there is, I'm going to do my best to remember that fingers trapped in doors bounce back, and if I can survive the initial horror perhaps I can play Dr. Mom at home instead.

Practicing the Presence

2008-06-22T22:16:00.003+01:00

Have finally started reading this book. Love it.

I have been praying for the last several months for God to make me aware of his presence in my everyday activities. Pleadingly I have told him that I need him to meet me at the kitchen sink, because that seems to be where I spend most of my time. I don't have the luxury of spending hours in prayer and meditation, nor do I have the energy to go out to prayer meetings and worship events in the evenings, so I need God to meet me while I change nappies, wash dishes, peel potatoes, and read stories. After my last day away at Turvey Abbey I went to church in the evening, having spent the day writing in my journal about this issue. Simon, the lead elder at our church, came and prayed for me. Not knowing the journey I've been on, he said, "Greta, I've sensed this before and haven't said anything, but I sense the anointing of Brother Lawrence on you. The presence of God was with him as he peeled potatoes in the kitchens, and his brothers had to make him go to the prayer closet--he didn't ever want to because he said he met with God just as well, if not better, whilst doing his chores." I laid on the floor and wept for about half an hour. The presence of God was on me in a way I haven't experienced before, and I felt, perhaps for the first time, not only the deep love of God for me, but the deep interest he has in my heart's desires. As I lay there, I knew that God had heard my secret prayers, and was delighted to answer them.

I feel like I've started a new journey that is both exciting and scary. What will it look like to try to consciously open myself up to the will and mind of God every minute of every day? I know there will be successes and failures, joy and pain, blessings and sacrifices. I am hoping others who are on the same journey will come alongside me and share their adventures, encouraging me on to deeper intimacy with Christ, baby-step by baby-step.

The Kelsey Hoppe Fan Club

2008-06-20T07:25:00.004+01:00

I've been wanting to write a post about this lady for a while, but hadn't gotten around to it. I won't try now that my blog-guru has raised the bar higher than I could possibly achieve. I will just say, "Amen."

2008-06-15T22:04:00.002+01:00

Macy turned one a month ago, and I finally managed to upload her video, so here it is. Sorry for the poor quality--I was too impatient to wait 45 minutes for the hi-res to upload! For those of you who don't know Emma, she's my friend who has two children close in age to Cerys and Macy. They are our surrogate family in Bedford, along with Peggie and Eden, all of whom were with us to celebrate Macy's birthday, and it's Emma who puts Macy's hat on at the beginning of the video. Happy belated birthday, Macy Sue!

Today's heresy

2008-06-03T21:58:00.002+01:00

In response to iPete, here we go.

I don't really understand all the physics, or exactly what a TOE is, but here's my thinking on how there will be lots of everybody in heaven, (or whatever reality there is after we die). I've been doing the Lectio Divina fairly often lately, and last night I was doing it with my husband using Ephesians 1:11:

In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will

The phrase that struck me was "works out everything," and what I sensed was God working like crazy to bring everything back into alignment with his will. It seemed to me that we're constantly throwing things out of whack, and he's constantly maneuvering things to get them back in sync, like billions of times a day, and that's just what God does. And it occurred to me that if we could all just work with God, eventually things would stop getting out of whack. Since I'd been pondering the question posed by iPete, that played into my heart's listening, and I felt God remind me that his will is that "none should perish, but all should come to repentance" (2 Pet 3:9) Which made me think that if God's will is that no one should perish and he's always working to get things in line with his will, then why are we so worried about getting people into heaven? He told us to go make disciples, and if we do that, then a lot more people will be working with God, and perhaps the revolution that Jesus started can finally end.

To conclude, I guess my TOE is that Jesus has salvation covered to his liking, and my job is to work with him to make disciples. At the moment I've got three I'm working on, actually, me makes four, and my husband makes five.

The best news ever!

2008-06-01T09:19:00.003+01:00

Our holiday was a bit of a misadventure, so the drive home was a bit tearful until we saw this. And another highlight, which was slightly dampened five minutes later by the news that our tent had just collapsed beyond repair, was this.

Yay Stavs! Yay Lueckes!

Let the little children

2008-05-13T21:29:00.003+01:00

I was at Costco the other day, doing my crazy mother-of-three thing of pushing a shopping trolley loaded with heavy groceries and two small children whilst carrying a third even smaller child in my left arm, when I got to the car and realised that I had lost my car key. Willing myself not to either a) throw myself on the floor in a tantrum; or b) leave the children and trolley in the car park and run into Costco to beg someone to find my keys, I lugged said children and trolley back into the warehouse to inquire if anyone had turned in my key. The very helpful lady at the information desk said that no such key had been turned in and perhaps I should take my one arm and my children and my heavy trolley and retrace my steps through the store. I followed that very helpful advice, looking first in the cafe, and second in the bathroom, and finally retracing my steps through the entire store. When no key surfaced I suggested to Cerys that perhaps she could ask God to find my key, since he didn't seem to be listening to me. She quickly said aloud, "God, please would you find Mommy's key?" and then to me, "Mom, did you hear him say yes?" Close to tears, I said, "No, honey, I didn't hear him. Did you?" She replied, "No, we better ask him again. God, would you please find Mommy's key?" Awestruck by her innocence, and flabbergasted by her determination, I walked back over to the information desk who had a different helpful lady behind it, and said, "Has anyone turned in my car key?" After describing it in detail, she said, "Yes, I've seen it. Let me go get it. It was in the bathroom." Praise the Lord.

As an aside, if there are any Milton Keynes Costco employees happening upon this post, may I suggest that when a tired mother loses her key, it would be helpful to search the store for her, or at least offer to watch her trolley while she searches, or better-yet, just give her the key since her search will be fruitless as the key is actually locked up in your office. Thank you.

Facebook?

2008-05-12T15:32:00.002+01:00

So, I finally joined the Facebook Revolution and am totally overwhelmed. I just wanted to see pictures of this fabulous 80's party I went to on Saturday night, but I can't see them because Wendy hasn't confirmed me as her friend yet, and I've got all these other friends who want to be my friend, but when do I have time to be writing on people's walls and completing my personal profile and looking at other people's walls? And is that all it is, just looking at walls, or is there much more that I'm missing? One more thing to stress over not doing well. Great.

A Child's Heart

2008-05-02T14:48:00.002+01:00

Cerys has been asking a lot of questions about God lately. She wonders how he can be everywhere if we can't see or hear him. When we were in California she wasn't allowed out in my aunt Lynn's garden without supervision because of the swimming pool, and one afternoon she asked if I'd go out there with her. I was feeding Macy and said that she would have to wait until I was done. She looked at me and cunningly asked if God was everywhere. Unaware of the trap being laid, and rather proud of her curiosity, I replied that yes, God is everywhere.

"Is he in the back garden?"

Still clueless, I replied, "Yes."

"Well then God can watch me, can't he?"

Taken aback at her utter genius, I tried to back-paddle and not crush a child's very real faith. In the end I just said that God had put me in charge and that though he was in the back garden he wanted me to be out there too.

This week one of her friend's moms was telling me that 4-year-old Jasper had "invited Jesus into his heart" this week. Having never broached that subject with Cerys before, I wondered how she would reply to such an idea. More out of curiosity than an actual desire for Cerys to "become a Christian" I ever-so-carefully began to explain that Jasper had asked Jesus to live in his heart and that meant that Jesus and God would always be with him and help him to make good choices and love other people.

"What do you think of that Cerys? Would you like Jesus to live in your heart?"

With a look of confusion and perhaps even annoyance she clutched her chest and said, "No, that would be very uncomfortable."

Good point, well made.

Happy Anniversary

2008-05-01T16:14:00.001+01:00

Four years ago today I landed in England to stay.

Recap

2008-04-27T22:43:00.003+01:00

I have been so encouraged because I have found a way to commune with God that resonates with me in a way nothing else has. To sit in His presence without getting my logic involved, but to just relax and listen to his voice and let it sink in without having to grapple and try to 'get it' but rather to let it get me. I feel encouraged that God is doing my dishes because I am doing my dishes. I feel encouraged that I now know deep in my soul what I have known in my head from day one, that a mom who feels like her brain is on hold can still do the work of God.

And as a side, it was wonderfully satisfying to know that even in silence, my husband is still the funniest guy I know. And one of the wisest, too.

Session 6

2008-04-27T22:38:00.002+01:00

Let God's gifts wean you away from selfishness and help you to let go of concern over what is yours by right. Desire nothing for yourself--nothing--neither pleasure, spirituality, nor the Kingdom of God, nor that you will be satisfied.

God's gifts wean.

I had the distinct impression that God rejoices each time I make a tiny step towards selflessness, just like parents clap hands at a baby's first mouthful of cereal. Just as a mother chooses and directs a baby's first meals, so God is weaning me from a life of selfishness. It is not my job to go home and stop being selfish but to allow God to wean me from selfishness. This is a task I can do, whereas to just stop being selfish is formidable. It was so encouraging to feel God's pleasure at my desire to take the first steps.

Session 5

2008-04-27T22:29:00.002+01:00

Meister Eckhart is chopping logs. 'I could do that for you' offers God. 'You already are' says Meister Eckhart.

You already are.

Don't neglect the natural. In my background I have been taught to go after the supernatural, and my response to God's offer would have been, "yeah, great, thanks" as I expected to watch the logs magically split and neatly pile. But it occurred to me that I would be as well off praying that someone would find the cure for cancer or that we would be enlightened as to how to avoid cancer all together, as I would be praying for God to heal. Not to leave God out of the equation, but to recognize that all good things come from God, whether supernaturally or by the work of our hands. God has given us these bodies to use, not to overcome.

As Sister Lucy put it, God asked "Who is chopping logs?" And the response is I AM.

God, put it deep in me that all my actions are for You and by You because You are in me.

Session 4

2008-04-27T22:25:00.002+01:00

We shall also find God in our most menial tasks. Indeed, when we perform a menial task with the same spiritual care as we perform our worship, then God will shine in us equally in both. All normal work in the world can be offered to God in the same way that we offer prayers.

Spiritual care, offered to God.

What would my life look like if I took the same spiritual care as I do in worship in getting dressed in the morning, getting the girls dressed, making meals, grocery shopping, bathing the girls, vacuuming, mopping, laundry, washing dishes, changing nappies, buying clothes?

God, I offer all these things to you. These are the things you have called me to at this time, and I have to be able to not only do them for you, but really find you in the midst of them.

Session 2

2008-04-27T22:15:00.002+01:00

Exactly how does a person 'work together with God'? You achieve this by dropping your sense of self and your efforts. The single action of the spiritual path is to reduce self to nothingness. However this annihilation of self can never be brought to completion unless God brings it about.

The whole point of Lectio Divina is to get out of one's head and let God speak. It doesn't matter if I agree with this text or not, it's about gleaning what I can from it. What stood out to me was Reduce Self. No the self that is God-given: my talents, personality, dreams. But the self that elevates my needs and wants above others. I love who God made me to be, and I must develop the gifts he's given me, but not to my own end. This made me think of my kids. Most of the stress I have with them is because they are not doing what I've told them on my time table. I don't get stressed with Macy because her self is not yet conflicting with mine. What would my mothering look like if I could work to their timetables? Would I shout less if I could see myself as their servant?

In sharing, Tim pointed out that the exciting thing is that this is at the heart of God. As much as we want to work with God, he wants even more to work with us.

The Weekend

2008-04-27T21:52:00.002+01:00

I'm back from a life-changing weekend away. Our good friends Phil and Emma had the girls while Tim and I meditated, prayed, discussed, chanted, and were silent. Using Lectio Divina to meditate on some of Meister Eckhart's pearls, I was humbled and inspired and deeply aware of God and his grace.

Finding my way

2008-04-22T20:29:00.004+01:00

I ran for 65 minutes on Saturday. I was running through the fields and got completely lost, ending up far from home and tired. But I kept going since I had no money and no phone, until I made it to Peggie's house and begged for water and a lift for the remaining mile home. Last night I did this route with my running pal Sarah. Not quite as far as Saturday, but considering we did three major hills each followed by major stitches, I'm pretty impressed with us. And totally impressed with this website that tells me how far I've gone. I'm disappointed with my speed but loving my stamina. My knee is killing me today--I think the three kids in three years did a bit of damage to my connective tissue, but I'm flying high.

My beautiful niece

2008-04-15T13:39:00.000+01:00

Miss Isabella Faith Sonnenberg

2008-04-12T12:25:00.004+01:00

In a week of sadness and grief, a ray of light broke through yesterday. An hour into the memorial for Daniel my beautiful sister Anna gave birth to my niece. Welcome, sweet one. I cannot wait to meet you. Or see a picture of you, for that matter. Blessings on your wonderful head.

Daniel Koubesarian

2008-04-10T19:27:00.002+01:00

Most of the time I love living in England, at least lately. But there are times that I think, "What am I doing here?" This is one of those times. My 24-year-old cousin, Daniel, was found dead in his back garden this weekend. I am in a bit of shock and in a lot of pain, and I just want my family. My best memories of Daniel are when he was younger. He was such a sweetheart. He knew everything about everything, really. He gave the best back rubs known to man. He was always available with a hug and a listening ear, and he was a champion karaoke-singer/sushi-eater. Trying to grieve such an immense loss with people who never knew Daniel is nearly impossible. I want other people who loved him to tell me their memories and to remember mine. I want to be able to be honest about who he was and where he was at without worrying about explaining what I mean. And most of all I just want to hug someone else who feels as bad as me. I hate death. I hate it. And man, did I love my cousin. I didn't realize how much until I found out he wasn't going to be around anymore.

Business Time

2008-03-29T20:16:00.002Z

It's my hundredth post, and so as to not stress about what to say on such an important milestone, I'm cheating and posting this very funny video.

Weekend away

2008-03-12T06:32:00.003Z

We got out of the house this weekend to go to the Leaders' Weekend Away with our Church. It was a truly amazing time of meeting with God and getting to know some new friends. Nick Sharp is an ex-con, an ex-paratrooper who met Jesus when he was 30+, as he sat in a jail cell waiting to be tried for assault and other nasty charges. He is someone who really has a grasp of what it means to be "saved". Not saved from some eternal punishment after death, but really and truly saved from a life he didn't want to be living. He talked about encouragement and exhorted all of us as leaders to learn to be encouragers. His basis was that God is absolutely for us and wants us to be encouraged, not only to feel good about who we are but to be spurred on to do the things God has for us with confidence that he has given us everything we need to do them. The Holy Spirit is the Encourager, and when we encourage one another we are doing something that he gets excited about. Encouragement is the key to prophecy and to mobilizing a church. Nick said it all much more clearly than I am summing it up, and his bottom line was this: When we walk into church we should be asking ourselves two questions. "How can I praise God? and Who can I encourage?" What a great posture in which to walk into our meetings.

Besides having great teaching, we had many chances to get out of our heads and let God meet with us at a heart level. There's something about a weekend like that where we spend time praising God with songs and spend lots of time crying out to him, repenting, asking for his presence, asking him for prophecies, asking for anything he wants to give us, that clarifies life. We let go of so many questions and just meet with the living God who cannot be boxed. He comes along and declares that he is the one who made heaven, earth, the sun, moon, and stars. He declares that he is bigger than anything we are facing, and yet small enough that he can come alongside each of us and tenderly care for us. He may not solve all our problems, in fact most likely not, but he makes us forget about them for a little while, and when we get back to life we have a new perspective and zeal, and it is good.

My eyes are red and swollen, but my heart is light, my soul is strong, and I am filled with love and passion and grace and vision. Not bad for a weekend, eh?

Lenten Progress

2008-03-12T06:21:00.002Z

I haven't quite managed to keep up with my Lenten sacrifice of sleep. I put this down to the fact that I've only slept through the night twice since Lent began. Other nights I've been up one, two, three, four, five, six, lost-track-of-how-many times. I don't know what's going on with my kids. I've been the object of jealousy and resentment on more than a few occasions because my kids are such good sleepers, and I must admit I've been more than a little proud of this fact. My humble, "Oh, I've just been blessed with sleepy babies" has really meant, "Yeah, that's because my parenting skills are amazing." Well, that's all been washed away after having slept through the night five times since before November. Besides jet-lag, all three of them had the stomach bug and two colds, then there were nightmares, teething, a night-time cough, dirty nappies at strange hours, and general wanting of the mommy. On the nights that I lost track of my comings and goings from bed, I just couldn't face a six o'clock alarm, and so my much-needed dates with my running shoes and with my blog have been sorely neglected.

But, I slept through last night, and so I am groggily trying to put down into cyberspace some of the mad thoughts rushing through my brain before I have to face the wonderful and terrible three who will be my taskmasters today.

And the verdict is...

2008-03-06T06:17:00.002Z

Since it is MY BLOG and all, I thought I'd share MY perspective on this Netherlands pitch before giving you the verdict. No cheating! Do not scroll to the bottom of this post to find the answer. You'll get there soon enough.

My mom was here for the week before and during the pitch, and rather than having an extra pair of hands for the week, my mom just replaced Tim around the house and with the kids for the week, since he was working until the wee hours of morning on this pitch and then was gone for two nights to actually do the pitch. The girls and I sacrificed hours with Daddy to do our part for the elliottyoung empire, and so we (well, I) were more than a little anxious about the outcome. If we won, would that make the hours of single-parenting worth the effort. Would our kids benefit more from us winning than from having their daddy around for those evenings he was at the office? For the last two and a half years we have been making these sacrifices in an effort to grow a business that we hope will support us until we decide to retire, and periodically we reassess and ask if it's all worth it. Would it be better to settle for a lower income in exchange for more time with the kids and with each other? Then the sacrifices would be fewer trips to the States and holidays closer to home, and no meals out ever, and a smaller house, and less flexible time working from home. But would those be better than sacrificing time with family? We seem to ask these questions every few months, or every time the work load demands longer hours than normal, and each time we decide to give it a bit longer and see if things level out. For now our kids seem happy with the amount of time they get from Disco Daddy, and Macy did say "dada" before she said "mama" so she must be seeing more of him than it seems, and I am capable of doing dinner and bedtime by myself a couple times a week as long as I get my date with my husband on a Thursday, so we're sailing through, for now.

And things are getting exciting. I've watched my husband grow from a guy who decided to try running his own business with a mate, when he thought he'd give this a try and then perhaps dabble in some other things, like limo hire and a coffee shop, to the director of a well-respected marketing firm with prospects of venturing into publishing and marketing consultancy. His business sense and God's provision have grown the company from a team of two part-timers to two directors with four full-time staff, a free-lance artworker and a part-time accountant. Clients include the largest pharmaceutical supplier to the NHS (the national health care system) and the largest exhibition company in the world. At the pitch they made Ogilvy look like amateurs. And they won the biggest client they've ever had. That's right, they won!!!!

I am so proud. I would have been proud, regardless, because I know Tim and Dan worked hard and did their best, but the sweet taste of victory is fresh in my mouth, and my heart is swollen with admiration for this man who started with a couple of little jobs and a vision and turned it into a successful business that is supporting his family. Well done, baby.

Another one from the hubby

2008-03-02T17:46:00.002Z

Because my computer crashed, and then the computer on loan from work was taken back for the new employee, and because Tim has been working on his computer night and day on the pitch described in the following post and subsequently on taking care of the clients he neglected during said pitch, I have been computerless, and so my hubby has been posting more than me on MY BLOG!! But really, I'm happy to share. As long as he keeps saying nice things about me. And so long as he finishes the post that he made me take down last week before he asks me to post another one. And so long as he wins said pitch and makes us enough money to buy me a new iMac. And maybe a nice weekend at a spa.

Without further ado, I give you Tim.

Perhaps I should get my own blog. But then, I'm not the one with an international fan club, so nobody would read these epistles. Can't have that!

The joy of setting myself up for disappointment

I hate waiting. I pretty much hate waiting for anything - let alone waiting for the verdict on whether or not someone wants to pay for the sacrifices of my heart, soul, wife, and children.

Tomorrow, with a spot of luck, I'll be put out of my misery one way or another. Tomorrow I discover if a prospective client in Holland prefers my company over three others. If he doesn't - then several weeks of stress, Ibuprofen, caffeine, family neglect, sleep neglect, current client neglect, and generally everything that's good for me neglect... will be flushed into a Dutch sewer. I've lost count of the number of pitches we've taken part in since starting the company a little under four years ago - and while I know that we've won way more pitches than we've lost, for some reason, this particular pitch has gotten under my skin.

I think that over the past two years my general capacity for life has stretched far beyond what I've ever thought capable of. Much more than in myself, I see it in my wife on a daily basis. The past few months, for example, have been hellish for us - with at least one child (if not, one adult) continually sick or restless resulting in broken sleep for approximately 99% of the time since before Christmas. The night shift is largely (though not totally) borne by Greta, and while she's very tired most of the time, she's like some freakin' mother machine that (provided she gets some regular fuel by way of food, water and some rest snippets) can withstand extended periods of being pushed far and away beyond the manufacturer's recommended limits. On one hand, I watch her in proud awe. On the other, I know that she's no advertisement for anyone who's a little worried about whether they should become a parent of three young children lest they find that their lives are entirely taken over by such a project. Pah! (sarcastic sneers from me). Those who can't take the heat need to consider fail-safe contraception. A picnic it ain't. But if you have ever considered having the rough edges knocked off you good and proper and be forced to grow up into a real grown-up by way of exponentially increasing responsibility, then let the love flow, or adopt, and dive into the game. So... as I take a regular peek at Greta's 'this is how much I've grown this afternoon' chart, it makes me think about how much I'm also changing and growing. I can't see it quite as clearly as I see Greta's evolution, but I can EASILY see that this time last year I shared a shell with someone who ain't nuthin like the person I'm currently sharing it with. The responsibilities I'm carrying right now have recently come close, a few times, to knocking me flat on my arse (ass). A year ago, they'd have definitely knocked me on my arse (ass), and stomped me several feet into the dirt, and squished my face, and laughed while doing so. So... seeing change more clearly, albeit on something like an annual scale, also means that I see my boundaries more clearly - and when I'm invited to tender some work to a new client I'm getting an increased knowledge of just how much of a sacrifice that person, or persons, is/are asking of me and my family. And, since my capacity is increasing, so is the quality and thoroughness of my work. And, so is my awareness of all this. And it's this heightened awareness that has meant that this last pitch has, well and truly, dug its claws deep into my soul. All parties concerned put their hearts into this most recent piece of work - my business partner even sent his family to his in-laws for a week so that we could get it done with particular pride. In short, on one hand we've set ourselves up for disappointment on a scale we've never done before. On the other, within 24 hours of writing these words I could receive news that our proposals have been accepted, which will mean that the business will be taken forward, overnight, almost twice as far as we've managed to push it within four years.

This time tomorrow, I'm either going to be crying, or I'm going to be cracking open a bottle of champagne with my wife. We may even have one each.

And here's the point of all these musings... whether we win or lose, I never again want to meet a new client where I don't hand over my heart and soul. I don't mean that I want to pull out every possible stop available to me and risk driving my family and/or me over the edge - but I do mean that a standard's been set that unless I'm proud to the point of 'this is going to hurt real bad if you reject it', then I don't want to give it. Anything less is beneath the standards of my business, and beneath the value of the fee that we'll be charging for our work.

There have been plenty of pitches in the past where I've thought 'ah well, it doesn't matter that much if we lose', and I now feel ashamed that I ever thought that. They should all matter. And I should feel pain if rejected. And if rejected I should pray for speedy healing so that I can get back on my bike and try again. And if we win, it'll make the taste of victory all the more sweet. And oh... I love sweet things!

Here endeth whatever it is I'm trying to say.

Amen.

To snip or not to snip...

2008-02-22T07:53:00.003Z

For the first time in 4 years and 9 months I am not pregnant and I am not breast-feeding.

I was sure after Macy was born that I was done having kids. I didn't want to go through any more progesterone poisoning, labor pains, middle of the night feeds, two-hourly feeds during the day, two-hourly diaper changes, having to be the one to get up to feed the baby first thing in the morning, choosing a name, postpartum depression, hormone swings, any of it. I was looking forward to getting to the stage of life where I had three young ladies who could sit and eat a meal without me having to get up, so that in effect I was going to have my first hot meal with children in four years. I was looking forward to having all three kids in forward facing car seats. I was enjoying the fact that they are all old enough to move around by themselves, to come to me if they need something, that they all play really nicely together, and that life can only get easier now.

But then we went for the vasectomy consultation, and in the same week Macy stopped breast-feeding, and all of a sudden my hormones are freaking out, and I'm freaking out, and I'm thinking, "Life is great. I could totally have another baby." I all of a sudden think that maybe I'm not ready to leave the baby phase yet. I love Macy's age. From about 6 months to 18 months is the most irresistibly cute age, in my opinion. Sure, all my girls are still cute, but that age is when they are smiling, giggling and interacting but not yet able to be naughty. Fantastic. Am I really ready to see the back of that? I'm remembering now how much I love being pregnant. Apart from the first three months, I love the anticipation, I love telling people and seeing their reaction, I love feeling the baby move, I love the way my body looks when by belly is so big I don't even notice how big my ass has gotten. I love the midwife visits and counting time in weeks and appointments. I even love people touching my belly. I love actually giving birth and seeing the purple, swollen, mess of a baby that only a mother could think is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. I love the adrenaline rush I get and that lasts for about six weeks after birth. And I love watching that baby become (thus far) a little girl. Ooh, I just love every bit of it. At the moment. I remember very clearly saying to people in the last six months, "I am so ready to be done with the baby phase. I really need to keep a journal to remind myself of how hard this has been this time so that I can't say 'it wasn't that bad.' a few months down the line." But I didn't keep the journal, and now I really can't for the life of me remember a single part of it that I didn't love and wouldn't be ready to do again.

I just don't know what to do! I'm not good at indecision. Mr.t pointed out that Tim and I just make decisions and don't look back. And he's right. That's what we do. So this feels really weird to not know the way forward.

Yet another guest appearance

2008-02-18T08:34:00.003Z

After nearly six years of marriage, I can almost always tell when Tim is kidding, but occasionally I take him seriously when I shouldn't. So at his request, I have removed this post for further editing, since he didn't want me to post it just yet. Even though he said he was. But that's Tim.

Not for the Faint Hearted

2008-02-14T06:09:00.002Z

This is not for the faint hearted. It may be hard to hear, particularly for those who love me. It certainly was hard to say. But good to humble myself. Praise be to God.

Offended by Jesus

2008-02-08T06:29:00.001Z

Matthew 11:2-6 and Luke 7:28-23 give almost identical accounts of John the Baptist sending some of his disciples to ask Jesus if he really was the Messiah or if they should look for another. I never gave these passage much thought until I heard Bill Johnson speak about them, and what he said gave rise to all sorts of thoughts. I cannot take credit for the idea, but the uncensored meanderings are mine.

John the Baptist had seen the Holy Spirit descend on Jesus like a dove and a heavenly voice declare that he was the Son of God, and yet he needed reassurance that Jesus was in fact the prophesied Messiah. Jesus replied that he was healing the sick, the lame, the deaf, and that "Blessed are those who are not offended by me." What a strange thing to say. Bill pointed out that Isaiah prophesied that the coming Messiah would amongst other things bring freedom to the captives. And where was John? Stuck in prison. So if this Jesus really were the Messiah, why was he allowing his biggest fan to rot in prison? I imagine John, being human and probably not terribly enjoying his stay in prison, sent his disciples not only to find out if Jesus were really the Messiah, but also to gently remind him that "Hey, I'm stuck in here, and it's your job as the Messiah to get me out." Jesus reply was heartbreaking. "Blessed are you when you are not offended by me." In other words, "I'm not getting you out, but stand by your faith in me anyway."

Hard. Impossibly hard sometimes. I think about the times I've been offended by Jesus because he hasn't done what I want him to do. I hated him when my parents got divorced. I thought it really out of order that he would (seemingly) answer prayers for their reconciliation only to allow them to divorce again within a few months. At the time (I don't feel this way anymore) I thought it would have been easier for them to have died than to have hope restored and subsequently crushed. I was terribly offended when Will died. I could not have imagined better parents and more worthy people than the Stavs, and their life was ripped away from them. The prayers of hundreds of people were ignored, and it seemed even scorned. And though I didn't hate him, I boxed him up and put him on a shelf and said, "You must not care about these things, so I'm not going to talk to you anymore about them." And I ignored him until Macy got her hernia and I really needed him again. Then I prayed and prayed and prayed, and I went to someone who God has used to heal people from incurable diseases, and I felt what I now know was Macy's ovary retreat through the hernia back into place, and my heart lept and then fell again when the ovarry reappeared the next morning. And I told myself at that point that I was not going to be offended, if it killed me, because God is just too big for me to understand, and if I understood him he probably wouldn't be God anymore. And the night before Macy's surgery, as I prayed for comfort and peace and help, I came to that strange place that the Bible refers to as the "peace that goes beyond understanding" and realised that even though Jesus hadn't healed Macy, he does care about her, and he does love her, and he was very aware of my anxiety and pain, and that he wasn't going to fix it but he was going to be there with me through it, and that had to be enough.

I am sure that many more situations will arise though the course of my life where I could be offended by Jesus, by his inaction, by his seeming indifference, by his silence, by people who claim to follow him but who don't love. But blessed are those who are not offended by him. And so I pray that I will make the choice, every day, to not be offended, and to continue to hope for his Kingdom to come. To see him as perfection and to not allow my personal feelings and perceptions to cloud that truth or to box him into my own experience. We see now in part, but in the future we will see him fully, and all this muck will be removed, and that peace of God will become understanding.

Lent

2008-02-08T06:01:00.000Z

I don't pay much attention to the other parts of the Church calendar, but for some reason I find Lent very intriguing and motivating. Forty days set aside for a kind of fasting. When I was younger it was something we made fun of, with all of our Catholic friends giving up brussels sprouts and cabbage as their act of sacrifice. But as I grew older and was introduced to some people who actually made use of the practice as a way of growing closer to God, I started to appreciate that perhaps our Church Fathers weren't as legalistically religious and as I was brought up to believe. Perhaps they saw some actual value in spending forty days with a constant physical reminder of our need for a saviour and in spending that time in closer communion with that Saviour.

And so I began the practice of giving up all sugar for Lent. I did that for three years running, and found it incredibly difficult, as I have the biggest sweet tooth known to man. I spent the first few days in agony watching every donut, every square of chocolate, every custard cream biscuit, every bit of ice cream pass through the lips of anyone around me, wanting to reach down their throats and grab it for myself. Gradually the cravings decreased until by day forty I had sworn off sugar forever since I was by then feeling full of energy, having gotten over the highs and lows of daily sugar intake. But by April I had given in to the urge for a taste, by summer ice cream was a staple in my diet, and Christmas brought a gorging on chocolates, cakes and cookies. As another Lent rolled around I vowed to give it up again, and the cycle started again. After Christmas this year I decided to pray for some self-control, having gained nearly ten pounds in America and by eating the cookies sent home by my mom and AJ. The weight is off, and for the first time in my life I feel able to eat chocolate as a once-in-a-while treat rather than as a daily indulgence. Three years of discipline followed by gluttony conclude with the grace of some answered prayer. Is that what Paul meant about working out my salvation?

This year I didn't feel the need to give up sweets, and so I struggled to think of something that would be both sacrificial and life-giving. I came up with sacrificing sleep. Not all sleep, but a little sleep in the morning. Rather than starting the day with the children dragging me out of bed despite my protests, I've decided to greet the day before the kids wake up and spend some time with God, with my own thoughts, with my iPod and running shoes. Anything to take charge of my day rather than letting it steamroll me. Here I am on day three, a bit groggy, but trusting that the Redeemer will take my small sacrifice and bring life.

Tooting my own horn

2008-01-22T21:47:00.000Z

I realise that this post will officially class me as a jogger, not a runner, but I don't care.

4 miles, 40 minutes. I am so proud of me.

All my byself

2008-01-22T21:44:00.000Z

Addien is actively asserting her independence as often as possible these days, and our favourite saying around the house has become, "I do it my byself!"

Contentment

2008-01-22T21:00:00.000Z

According to Easton's 1897 Bible Dictionary:

CONTENTMENT
a state of mind in which one's desires are confined to his lot whatever it may be (1 Tim. 6:6; 2 Cor. 9:8). It is opposed to envy (James 3:16), avarice (Heb. 13:5), ambition (Prov. 13:10), anxiety (Matt. 6:25, 34), and repining (1 Cor. 10:10). It arises from the inward disposition, and is the offspring of humility, and of an intelligent consideration of the rectitude and benignity of divine providence (Ps. 96:1, 2; 145), the greatness of the divine promises (2 Pet. 1:4), and our own unworthiness (Gen. 32:10); as well as from the view the gospel opens up to us of rest and peace hereafter (Rom. 5:2).

According to Greta:

CONTENTMENT
a state of being okay with the fact that your greatest accomplishment today may be taking a shower. It is opposed to envying your friends who actually get days off; wanting anything for yourself, even your own breakfast; ambition for a career, or any sort of recognition for the mundane work you do every day; worrying about your children's health, safety, future, and anything else that is completely out of your control; and wishing you had been a little more careful with the birth control when you'd had the chance. It arises from deep within your soul, where you know that this is the life God chose for you, and that despite all your moaning you actually love being a mom and are in awe of the responsibility and blessing given to such an undeserving person. It comes from getting to the place where you don't need recognition because you know that you are doing Kingdom work in serving the very people Jesus said were at the center of his Kingdom (Matt 19:14).

Sleep

2008-01-22T20:38:00.000Z

I miss the comfort of your sweet embrace
as my head hits the pillow and I surrender to your spell.
I miss the feeling of waking in the morning having rested in your arms through the night
in such a deep trance that not even dreams can wrest me from you.
You tease me with your company for a while,
but you keep leaving me when I need you most.

Dear friend, would you introduce yourself to my Macy?
Would you woo her as you have wooed me?
Would you be a friend to her as you have been to me?
For the better acquainted she becomes with you, the more you and I can be together.

And what a happy day that will be
when once again I wake in the morning
to find that you and I have made it through a night
with nothing separating us from each other.
And I can cheerfully say goodbye to you until night
instead of tearfully clinging to you as my children shoo you away.

New Year's Breakfast

2008-01-05T17:44:00.001Z

This was my version of a French Toast Strata. Another one for you, Mrs.

1 loaf (1 kg.) Panettone, cubed
8 oz Wensleydale with cranberries
8 eggs
2 1/2 cups whole milk
6 T butter, melted (if you can find Cointreau butter, even better)
1/4 cup pure maple syrup

1. Grease a 3-quart rectangular baking dish. Place half of the bread cubes in the dish. Top with crumbled Wensleydale and remaining bread cubes.

2. Combine remaining ingredients and pour evenly over bread and cheese. Slightly press layers down to moisten, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 2 to 24 hours.

3. Bake, uncovered, in a 325 degree oven for 35 to 40 minutes or until the center appears set and the edges are lightly golden. Let stand about 10 minutes before serving. Serve with a dollop of mascarpone and maple syrup if you're feeling extra-indulgent, but it's pretty rich as is. Makes 6 to 8 servings.

Oh, so good. Mmm.

Peace, Fruitfulness, and Passion

2008-01-01T11:48:00.000Z

Looking back on 2007, I came across the three words I used to describe what I hoped 2007 would be.

It was a year of peace. Tim and I got along so well this year. I feel like we really hit a stride in our communication. We lived in a peaceful neighborhood. We enjoyed peaceful sleep with a baby who started sleeping through the night at 12 weeks.

It was also a year of war. We fought depression. We fought fear and worry with Macy's hernia. Tim had stress at work.

It was a year of fruitfulness. Our third child was born. Elliottyoung grossed record revenues. The children grew. Addien learned to talk, Macy learned to move, and Cerys started preschool.

It was also a year of want. Tim worked too hard and wasn't home enough. I missed my friends and family in America. We spent too much time watching tv and not enough time working on our to-do lists. My stint with Creative Memories came to an end.

And passion. We celebrated our five year anniversary. I feel more in love with my husband every day. I was passionate about finding God in my everyday life. I was passionate about being a good mom.

I had lots of days that were just hum-drum as well. I struggled with feeling stuck in my life, feeling like everything is on hold until my kids are a bit older. I don't know where a lot my days went--they seemed to fly by without my participation.

I guess that's life. Full of light and dark, good and evil. That's what I learned in 2007. I learned to let some of my boxes go, to let some color into my black and white viewpoints. I found peace amidst turmoil, joy through sorrow, passion in mundanity.

For 2008 I hope for more of the same. I'd like to see my boundaries of faith, love, and grace pushed further open and to be challenged in those areas. I want to grow as a mom and develop my skills as a leader and teacher. I want to find one new thing to explore, either cooking or writing, I haven't decided. And I want to have joy. Much, much joy.

Merry Christmas!

2007-12-25T18:15:00.001Z

We have had a lovely Christmas, and wish you all a merry one as well, whether you are celebrating the birth of our Lord or abstaining from the pagan celebration of the winter solstice, I hope you've had a wonderful day.

We started our celebrations yesterday at 4:00 by attending the local Anglican church's Crib Service. The girls were entertained by a very sweet reenactment of the birth of Jesus, which they joined by barging onto the stage to sit with the angels, and Addien managed to lead several other toddlers in an impromptu performance of pushing the manger halfway across the stage. About three-quarters of the way through Cerys loudly announced that she was hungry and ready to go home, so we bundled up and made our way outside. As we strolled through the town centre, the girls oohed and aahed at the lights, and Macy slept in my arms. We arrived home to a brilliant feast of cheese, salami, peking duck spring rolls, and various other vittles laid out by Katy. After a quick bath, we came down to open our Christmas Eve pajamas, and tried to settle in to A Muppet's Christmas Carol, but quickly realised that that's a few years on for the girls and so settled for a game of Simon Says. After settling the girls down for the night, we enjoyed Raider's of the Lost Ark and decided we were too tired to make it to the midnight carol service and headed for bed. (Well, I did--Katy and Tim stayed up until the wee hours of morn watching Bleak House and searching the internet for cheap housing options.)

This morning we slept until 8, opened some small gifts, and feasted on pancakes and sausage while discussing the finer points of Jesus' birth (Jesus was born in a barn, not a field, in Bethlehem, not Bedford). The morning was spent napping, bathing, and gorging our eyes on Chitty Chitty, Bang Bang and countless episodes of Charlie and Lola, both gifts for the girls. After an Indian takeaway at 1:30, we all headed for the park to burn off a few calories and tire out the girls so the grown-ups can enjoy an early night. The early evening saw puzzles, more naps, and mugs of hot vanilla. Somewhere in there Katy cleaned the kitchen and got in a load of muddy laundry. And now we are catching the last few minutes of The Polar Express while Macy practices her army crawl.

A very merry Christmas, indeed.

A Guest Appearance

2007-12-24T09:13:00.000Z

My sister Katy is here visiting for the month, and I thought her first letter home was worth posting:

Hello everyone!

I've arrived safely in the UK, having experienced only minor turbulence during the 11 hour flight over, mostly due to the tossing and turning of my nieces as they tried to find a comfortable position for sleeping in my lap. I am proud to say that I only had to ask Greta to hold my hand once while on the plane, during takeoff, and not again for the duration of the flight. Every good thing anyone has ever told me about Virgin Atlantic is true: free alcohol, free movies on demand, and unbelievably courteous flight attendants who are willing to hold an infant while you're dealing with the two toddlers in your party. I'm really looking forward to watching Superbad (and Pirates 3 and Harry Potter 5 and a bunch of angst-ridden Indie films) and drinking a bottle of wine on the way home, but while chaperoning three little girls on the trip over, 8 episodes of Dora the Explorer and loads of spilled orange juice were as close as I got to taking advantage of the amenities on board the plane. <> We lost an entire day in transit, leaving from LAX in the night and arriving the following evening in Bedford, with three tired little girls and 12 million pieces of luggage in tow...Greta and I have only now gotten around to putting our arms back in their sockets.

At 11 p.m., we arrived home from the airport to Greta’s tiny house (everything seems to be in miniature here…the average refrigerator for a family of 5 is the size of my dorm-room mini-fridge). I finally got my glass of wine, fell asleep on the first page of a new book and woke up at noon on Tuesday. The first order of business was to reunite my nieces with their playmates, so we spent the day drinking highly caffeinated tea and visiting with Greta's friend Emma and her two children, Kate and Isaac, who delighted me with their cockney accents, which are even thicker than those of my nieces. My brother-in-law opened a bottle of my favourite (this version of WORD keeps denying my attempts to spell the word ‘favorite’) wine with dinner (a dish the Brits call 'Bubble and Squeak'), which made the experience of waiting for the jet-lagged girls to tire themselves out and fall asleep a bit mellower.

Yesterday, I became ecstatic at hearing about a proper coffee shop in Bedford and demanded that my sister drive me there. So, we packed up the girls and two hours later, after getting dressed and having a snack and putting on coats and mittens and taking them all off again to go wee and putting them all on again and buckling the girls into their car seats, were on our way. Once there, we ordered our drinks and let the girls flirt with the barista, who happened to be a really good-looking Frenchman. We settled into a table outside, and before I had taken my first sip, Greta downed her latte in a single gulp and started packing up the kids again. I’m learning more and more on this trip that sitting and sipping are luxuries not to be had when you’re the mother of three.

Today we froze our bums off at the town square, which is an enormous outside mall/market closed off to vehicular traffic. I learned about ordering in grams and paying in pound notes, and watched my nieces eat bangers wrapped in puff pastry…hmmm…Everyone was crying by the time we left the square; the girls were too cold and too jet-lagged to walk another step, so once we got home, they went upstairs for a nap while Greta and I delved into the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice for perhaps the 27th time since we’ve been sisters and enjoyed yet another cup of tea.

It’s been so nice getting to hang out with my sister, who lives altogether too far from home; though, it’s quite something to see Greta at work in her own home. She is absolutely tireless in her enthusiasm for taking care of her girls, and my brother-in-law is the same, coming home from work every night to have a dance-a-thon with Cerys, Addien and Macy before ever sitting down to rest.

I’m really looking forward to going to London in the near future to view the Tate Modern, which comes highly recommended, and hopefully meeting up with some of the Brits I met over the semester…We’ll see. In the meantime, I’m looking forward to loads of email correspondence to remind me that there are conversations to be had revolving around topics other than Winnie the Pooh. I miss you all and hope you’re having a fantastic holiday back home! That said, I’ve just been notified that it’s time for another ABBA-accompanied dance extravaganza with the nieces…

Cheers,

Katy

Norman Rockwell at Sears

2007-12-06T20:45:00.000Z

We tried to get our pictures taken two days after arriving. Don't ever try to take three kids under four to have their pictures taken when they're trying to get over an 8-hour time difference. You might end up with your picture on the front of the Saturday Evening Post, which is where this one belongs.

On Fear, Trembling, and Anxiety

2007-11-02T05:16:00.000Z

I thought I got it. I thought I'd managed to survive a personal tragedy without shaking my fist at God. I smugly thought I was okay, reconciled, far from bitter. Until a mini-crisis arose, and all the niggling fears and lies came wriggling to the surface like so many maggots feasting on rotting food.

What I realised this week as I listened to this preach and tried to pray for my baby girl who is about to go through quite a simple operation is this: My paradigm shift that came as I tried to reconcile a God who is good who also allows babies to die became a new world where God is far away. He is good, but only concerned with the bigger picture of preparing a Church fit to be his (metaphorical) Bride. He's not interested in the little things like babies' surgeries and mothers' worries, and so as I tried to pray, tried to release her into His grip, the thought that wouldn't go away was, "This is pointless. He just doesn't care."

My new God is good. He is loving and kind, but these little details are too small for him. He has bigger fish to fry, and afterall, what doesn't kill us only makes us stronger. And if it does kill us, there's always eternity.

I'm not really sure how to come back to reality. Or is it possible that this is reality? I can't believe that this new God is an accurate portrayal of the God described by so many as a friend, a comfort, a refuge, a shepherd who looks for his one lost sheep. And yet deep in the recesses of my heart, and bubbling out onto the surface, I am cold and scared and feeling I must be too insignificant to grasp the attention of the Almighty when I ask him to take care of my baby girl.

God, forgive me for my smugness. Forgive me for trying to gloss over, rather than walk through, pain. Keep teaching me who you are, and never let me think I've got you figured out. You're too big for that. But as Nichole eloquently prays, Great God, be small enough to hear me now.

Another Cake Decorating Feat

2007-10-13T21:05:00.001+01:00

I set myself a high bar with the last birthday, and I don't think I was on the same par this time. Still, I was quite pleased, and so was my beautiful princess. Not that you can tell by the look on her face, but she was smiling on the inside.

Macy rolls over

2007-10-11T22:43:00.000+01:00

My blog is turning into an arena for showing off my kids. Not at all what I initially intended, but one more step in accepting the fact that I am a full-time mom, and that means that for the time being kids are what I have to talk about. So, this is Macy rolling over for the first time. Hooray for Macy!

Happy Birthday, Beautiful

2007-10-11T22:29:00.000+01:00

My little girl is two today. Happy Birthday, Addien!

Theology

2007-10-10T08:50:00.000+01:00

My theology these days is murky at best. I don't know if I believe in hell (or some other form of punishment) or complete redemption for all mankind (whether they like it or not). I don't know if I think it's important for all Christians to go to church every week. I don't really care if people use the f-bomb to express their emotion. And I really don't think it's that important to know what I believe about creation and inerrancy. No, I've decided to go with Bill Johnson on these and say "I don't have dogs in those fights." Rather, I'm trying to cope with the everyday demands of three little ones and gleaning what I can from those interactions.

I've recently rediscovered a cd that I bought for the girls, and we've been listening to it in the car. One of the songs asks, "Mr. Cow, how do you say to the Lord, 'I love you'?" To which he replies, "Well, I stand around in the field all day and it gives me plenty of time to say, 'Moo, moo, moo.'" It may sound funny, but that song gives me a lot of hope. Because I don't get much time to "spend with the Lord" these days. I'm too busy answering cries for Mommy to get much time at all (see dramatic decrease in blog posts since Macy was born as corroborating evidence). This song reminds me that I am worshipping God every time I do my normal tasks that he's assigned me. Changing the world one diaper at a time.

Another favourite points me to creation. "When I look at the trees blowing in the breeze, ooh ooh I praise You, Ooh ooh I praise you. When I see a bird up high, swooping in the sky, Ooh ooh I praise you, Ooh ooh I praise you. It's a wonderful world for boys and girls, such a wonderful world for boys and girls and we praise you Creator God." I love to watch my kids marvel at caterpillars and get excited about ants and squeal with delight at pigeons. God has indeed made a wonderful world for boys and girls.

I am content with this as my theology: God is good. A lot of stuff is bad, but God is good, and my job is to love Him and everyone who comes across my path. Selah.

Life after Will

2007-09-13T22:32:00.000+01:00

It's been a year and a day since I got the e-mail that changed my life. "He died at 3:11 this morning. I'm overcome." As I sobbed like I've never sobbed before, as my heart broke for one of the dearest, sweetest friends I've ever had, as my faith for miracles crumbled and my joy in life momentarily vanished, my world shook. Months of prayer and hope seemed fruitless and empty. I still don't get it, I don't understand why, I hate that it happened the way it did. I want to see Will grow up, and even more I want to see my friends enjoying their son.

At the same time, I am grateful for Will.

Because of Will I learned to pray. I learned to believe that God is good, even when I cannot see his goodness, and to praise God even when I don't feel like it. I learned what it means to be desperate for a miracle, and to continue to hope after bitter disappointment. I learned to love, as I watched his parents give so selflessly during his life, and as I walked with them in their grief. I learned to battle through fear and doubt, anger and pain. And I learned to long for God's Kingdom to come in full.

When I think about my cloud of witnesses, who have gone before me and who spur me on to faith, Will is there at the front, cheering me on, cheering on his mom and dad and sister and everyone else who loved him, and telling us not to give up. Telling us that life is full of beauty that we need to look for, telling us that there is wisdom far beyond our understanding, and that there is love that will wipe away all of our tears.

Cerys singing

2007-09-13T19:50:00.000+01:00

Happy Wanderer

2007-09-05T21:59:00.001+01:00

This is our fearless Addien at Caswell Bay.

Macy cooing

2007-09-05T16:42:00.001+01:00

Busy, busy, busy

2007-09-05T16:38:00.000+01:00

I've never been so busy in all my life. College was nothing, the fast pace of DC living was a breeze compared to the never-ending demands of three under-fours! I'm not complaining, just stating the facts. Almost every day an idea for a post creeps into my thoughts and is quickly forced out again by a cry for milk, juice, diaper change, crayons, playdoh, story, song, ad nauseum. I went through a severe bout of post-natal depression, was miraculously healed, would love to write about it, but haven't found the time. I tried a half-dozen times to upload video to YouTube before realizing I needed to compress the file before I could do that, so much time was wasted there. Started running again and was amazed at how much it easier it is now that my pelvis doesn't feel like it's breaking in two. Went to the beach in Wales and had a marvellous time experimenting with living in community. And hundreds of other events and thoughts have occurred in the past month or so, but that's all I have time for at present. The blog is a bit of a catch 22 for me. I love writing, but don't feel like I have the time, but if I don't take the time, I feel frustrated. Oh the horror!

Reunion

2007-07-25T20:17:00.000+01:00

This past weekend my high school graduating class had their 10-year reunion. I remember when my aunt Stephanie went for her 10-year reunion to Pennsylvania and she seemed so...not old...so grown-up. And now here I am...is it possible that I'm as grown-up as she was? The reunion committee sent out this picture of all those that were there on Saturday night, and I have spent a good portion of today obsessing over the picture.

I've known over half of them since we entered kindergarten in 1984. I haven't spoken to a single one of them since we left high school in 1997. And yet I am desperate to know what they've been up to for the last 10 years. I've been having conversations with them in my head all day, asking where they've been, when they got married, how many children they have, have they heard from so-and-so, etc. etc.

Several of those people were so badly made-fun-of and excluded during our entire schooling that I can't imagine why they would show up to a reunion. Are they there to prove that they have moved past their era of geek-dom. Were they so pure-hearted that they just didn't realize that people were making fun of them? Or does 10 years just erase all the hard-feelings they might have had?

The popular girls look just the same--picture-perfect in their attire, hair and make-up. The girl who has been overweight since kindergarten is still overweight and confident in herself. The goth girl is still goth. The stoner still looks pretty stoned. The boy we all thought was gay really is. And the high school sweethearts got married and organized the reunion. And other than putting on a few pounds here and there, almost everyone looks exactly the same as I remember them.

There are others whose absence got me thinking as much as the sight of others. Where are my two best friends, Anne and Sarah? Where is my high school boyfriend and his wife who still live in the town where we grew up? Where is Matt, the only friend I've kept in touch with since graduation, albeit very sporatically?

I was asked to send in a picture of me and my family for the reunion book, and I looked for the best picture of me I could find so that they wouldn't think I'm always as overweight and downtrodden as I look in the pictures since Macy was born. Why does it matter what they think anymore? But I found myself wanting them all to think I was doing well. That I'm not the snob they all thought I was in high school, that I was just extremely shy and insecure. I always felt out-of-place in school, and I found myself wondering if I'd still feel that way in that group. I wondered if they'd look down on me for not finishing college. Would they like my husband and think my kids are cute? What is it about a high school reunion that causes such angst?

Here is a group of people who were tossed together as kids into a tiny school system where we spent 5 days a week, 36 weeks of the year for 13 years playing and learning side by side, who went our separate ways after graduation and then chose to get together again for an evening to try to catch up on the last 10 years. It seems a silly tradition, but I'm sad I missed out on it.

Benched

2007-07-23T15:39:00.000+01:00

I went to the doctor on Friday because I've still got this weird post-birth infection. I mentioned that I'd started running again, and she was quick to chastise me. "Unless you want to be incontinent for the rest of your life, you'd better not do anything more than a brisk walk until Macy's at least 12 weeks old. And if you get bored walking, do your pelvic floors." So I'm back out of the game. Thanks, Doc.

For you, Mrs.

2007-07-17T14:43:00.001+01:00

Beef enchiladas with Grandpa's mexican rice

I'm not a measurer when I cook, so I've guessed at quantities.

Beef enchiladas

1 pound ground beef
1 onion, chopped
2 anaheim peppers, chopped or one small can of green chilies
1 small tub sour cream
3 cups mixed cheese (cheddar, monterey jack, colby, pepper jack, anything you want, really)
enchilada sauce*
6 flour tortillas

Brown the beef with the onion and chilies (if using a can, just add chilies after). Combine cooked beef with sour cream and two cups of cheese. Pour half of sauce into bottom of 9X12 pan. Spoon beef mixture into tortillas, roll up and put in pan. Pour remaining enchilada sauce over and sprinkle with remaining cheese. Bake at 350 for 30 minutes or until bubbly.

*I just use some tomato paste, add about a tablespoon of chili seasoning and some boiling water until it's the right consistency, but you can buy it if you'd rather.

Grandpa's Mexican rice.

1 cup long grain rice
1 T oil
1 onion, chopped
1/2 green pepper, chopped
1 T chili seasoning
1/2 tin of chopped tomatoes
1 1/2 cups chicken or veg stock

Fry rice, onion and pepper in oil until rice is opaque and onion/pepper are soft. Stir in chili, tomatoes, and stock. Cover and simmer over very, very low heat for 10-15 minutes until rice is soft.

Serve all with lettuce, tomatoes, guacamole, refried beans and sour cream. Scrummy.

Back in the game...sort of

2007-06-30T11:35:00.000+01:00

I've envisioned hundreds of times over the last nine months lacing up my shoes and going for a good run. I have missed those endorphins, and I've especially missed the 30 minutes of guaranteed ME time--a respite from the constant cries for "Mommy" that I get all day long. So having gotten a clean bill of health at my six-week check on Wedneday, I rolled out of bed at 7:15 yesterday morning and ran out the door. Ten minutes later I was huffing and puffing, and my legs felt like lead. So I walked the rest of the way home. And today every muscle in my legs aches, and my right knee is creaking.

I know, I know, I JUST had a baby six weeks ago. But I was so disappointed. I'm in a lot worse shape than I thought.

6 week check

2007-06-27T21:16:00.000+01:00

Macy had her six-week check today and was given a very clean bill of health. She slept through all the poking and prodding of the doctor but screamed her head off when the health visitor (Britain's answer the the pediatrician) stretched her out to measure her. She is climbing the growth curve for the length and head circumference and descending just a bit on the weight curve, coming in at just over 9 pounds. And in keeping pace with her sisters before her, she is going about 8 hours at night without a feed. Good girl!

At the six-week check the doctor inevitably asks what form of birth-control we're planning to use, which I always find a little awkward. But this time I needed some straight-forward advice since I've already managed to conceive on two types of birth-control. So she handed me a pamphlet of all my available options, pointing out which ones were better than others and commenting that the new female condom is really noisy. Yikes. Fun bedside reading for me tonight.

Note from Tim: What THEE hell is the female condom? Am I missing something? And why THEE hell are we discussing this on the freakin' internet??

What I've been talking about

2007-06-20T09:30:00.001+01:00

This guy was able to sum up EXACTLY what I've been trying to put into words for the last year. I've thought so much about Jacob and Esau and how that translates to us settling for less than our birthright. This is the stuff I want to see happening, and I've found passion where I thought passion was dead. God is waking me up to some of the dreams he placed in me years ago.

Out of touch

2007-06-11T21:27:00.000+01:00

Sometimes living in England makes me feel so out of the loop. For example, two years ago my mom sent me some pictures of her wedding reception, and my sister was wearing a skirt with a cute top and one of those oh-so-popular half-sweaters. Except I didn't know they were popular because they hadn't made it to the UK fashion scene, so I thought "What is she wearing?" Sometimes her fashion sense isn't with the norm, so I called my mom and was like 'What was Katy wearing?" to which she replied that that was what EVERYONE was wearing that year. Oops.

I felt that way again today when I read a comment on my flickr site: "I'm so cheesed." Could someone please explain what that means?

What's in a Name?

2007-05-21T12:47:00.000+01:00

Macy Sue Davies.

She's finally here. After months of waiting she arrived Wednesday morning, May 16, at 10:46 am weighing in at 7lb 6 oz. She has a flock of thick, black hair, eyes that are a beautiful shade of blue that looks like it might turn green, and she is perfect. She fit right into family life, eating, sleeping, and allowing her sisters to stroke and cuddle her. She loves to cuddle up tight into our necks, but she's equally comfortable awkwardly sat on Cerys' lap with her head sort of hanging off to the side and her legs splayed out in front. The only things that upset her are having her diaper changed and her sleep interrupted, which in both cases causes her to scream until she is comfortable again.

But the name. Macy Sue. Sue is after our dear sister-in-law Sue Davies. We liked the idea of using family names as middle names, and Sue was the obvious choice. Sue is married to Tim's brother Jon, and she is fun and affectionate and we love her very much.

Macy is a bit more complicated. Officially it is a name derived from the old French word for weapon. It is also thought to be descended from the name Matthew, meaning Gift from God. For us, though, it is an algamation of the names Mike and Stacy, two very dear friends whom we love and admire. In naming our daughter Macy we hope to honour them and also speak into her life some of the characteristics we so appreciate in them. Namely, their ability to love, encourage and serve others with everything that is in them.

Due Date

2007-05-11T19:25:00.000+01:00

Does this look done to you?

38 weeks

2007-05-06T09:53:00.000+01:00

I'm actually 39 weeks and 2 days, but these were taken last weekend.

Happy Anniversary

2007-05-05T22:42:00.000+01:00

My husband whisked me away for the night to one of our favorite pubs last weekend. We had a lovely dinner and stayed in a cute little chalet behind the pub. We will have been married for five years this month, but he thought it best to celebrate a month early before baby comes.

Close, but not quite

2007-05-04T13:37:00.000+01:00

I woke up yesterday morning at 5:45 with the strange sensation that my belly was trying to implode. Tight, heavy, hard to breathe. I remembered that feeling as the way both of my other labors started and so smiled to myself and tried to go back to sleep. But by 6:00 I was excited and needed to get up. I made myself a cup of raspberry leaf tea and called my mom to calmly say that my contractions had started, but that with Addien I had contractions for a couple of days before I actually went into labor, so I wasn't getting too excited. Then I called my sister to tell her the same thing. I decided to go for a walk, since that will either really get things started or make them totally stop. By the time I got back an hour later I knew I wasn't going to be heading for the hospital anytime soon, but I was uncomfortable enough that I had to cancel my trip to see my friend Alicia in Cambridge. Since the baby is back-to-back I also called my friend Peggie, who used to be a midwife, to ask her to feel if the baby had turned yet. She hadn't. By 9:30 contractions were completely stopped, and I was more than a little disappointed, so the girls and I watched two feature-length films and spent the day feeling rather sorry for ourselves. But we had a nice time doing it. And today I'm very glad that I didn't have the baby since I came down with a nasty cold late last night and spent today feeling terrible. So we're happily waiting.

For Better or for Worse

2007-04-20T19:34:00.000+01:00

Tim pointed out to me the other day that in our marriage vows we promised to bear with each other for better or for worse. In other words, we promised that whether we were better off together or worse off together we would stick together. What a promise to make! So that got me thinking about whether I'm better or worse off with Tim as my partner. And thinking about that made me realise how incredibly blessed I am to have Tim as my husband. He is such a wonderful man, and I love him more as the days go on.

He is the funniest person I know. It is so great to live with someone who can make me laugh.

He is a deep thinker and feeler, and he is unashamedly open with me about how he's feeling and what he's thinking, a real gift if you go by the Mars Venus theory.

He is a hard worker, both at the office and at home. He had the ingenuity to start his own marketing firm, which he has with God's great blessing grown to a business with revenues of almost a half-million pounds annually in under three years. When he comes home from the office he puts aside his need to replenish his introverted soul and has a dance-a-thon with his girls and does the dishes and tidies up before sitting down to care for himself.

He is creative and resourceful and unafraid to take risks. Hence our nest-egg property in Bulgaria.

He protects his family. Despite the fact that he's shorter than most men, I feel so safe with him because he's not afraid to stand up for his family. He made the tough decision to sell our house on Battison Street at a loss in order to move our children to a safer neighborhood.

He has a great faith and loves God. And even though he's been disillusioned by church and hardline fundamentalism, he is passionate about Jesus, and he inspires me to think and to act in faith, particularly when it comes to asking God for healing.

He takes care of me and encourages me. When I've had a long day with the girls, even though he's had an equally long day at the office, he tells me to sit down and relax while he tidies the house, sticks on another load of laundry, and does whatever else needs to be done. With each pregnancy I've gotten more stretch marks, which make me feel unattractive, but in his loving way he just tells me that they remind him of the children I've given him and that makes him love me more. What a wonderful thing to say to a wife.

While he is by no means perfect, he is absolutely perfect for me. I am so grateful I made that vow because I am definitely better off with him.

April

2007-04-20T19:19:00.000+01:00

Where did April go? Tomorrow is the 21st. Today I have three weeks until d-day. What?! How did that happen? Chasing after my two darling girls, I have not had time to contemplate the fact that in just three (or five or zero) short weeks we will be a family of five. How exhilarating and scary. So much to do--place for baby to sleep, new carseats installed three across in the backseat of the car, clothes out of the loft, decide on a name. Oh, the name! We decided on Cerys before I was out of my first trimester. Addien was supposed to be Charley until about a week before she was born, and this one will be lucky to have a name by the time we have to register her birth at six weeks old. Meanwhile, Tim is working like a mad man trying to finish end-of-year billing, finish off well for a client we just lost, and praying that Dan's wife and I time giving birth so that both partners aren't on paternity leave simultaneously. In the next three weeks I'm hosting an all-day Creative Memories event, attending another all-day CM event, conducting a CM parents' evening for a local nursery, hosting friends for a gourmet dinner, steam-cleaning the carpets, baby-sitting my friends' two kids for a full day, and trying to make it to Cambridge for one last visit with Alicia before baby comes.

As Dory says, "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming. What do we do? We swim."

Mary and the Alpacas

2007-04-04T22:18:00.000+01:00

After we left Blenheim on Monday, we went to Tetbury, where Mary will be working on an alpaca farm for the next two weeks. What was supposed to be a favor for a friend--bringing Mary to her next destination on her two-month tour of England and France--ended up being the perfect ending to my already wonderful day. I enjoyed a homecooked meal in a kitchen as near to my ideal as I have ever seen, more excellent company, a good night's sleep in a cold room under a heap of blankets, a delicious breakfast, and then a little farmyard adventure before heading home. Our hosts, Ben and Georgina, were welcoming and lovely, and the house where she will be staying was almost beyond belief, both in its size and its character. Built several hundred years ago, it boasts 22 rooms which are decorated with splendid wallpaper and a clutter of old pictures and prints. It has never had a shower installed, so Mary will be bathing in a Victorian tub. The doorways are massive, and the rooms are drafty, but there is something so warm about the house, Mary and I just couldn't believe her good fortune.

The alpacas are wonderful creatures. They look a bit like llamas with sheep's wool. They are raised for their fibre, which is luxuriously soft, and also as show animals. Tuesday morning we got to help catch a baby who had been born two weeks prior so that Ben could remove its blanket, which it had already outgrown. The house is set on 150 acres of beautiful countryside bordered by a river. I am trying to contrive a way to get an invitation to stay with Ben and Georgina for a longer time so I can enjoy their company and country setting again!

Blenheim Palace

2007-04-04T21:30:00.000+01:00

I had the most wonderful day on Monday. I went to Blenheim Palace with my good friend Mary, who was visiting from the States. Besides being in excellent company, I enjoyed the scenery, the architecture, the weather, the food, and the rare luxury of uninterrupted conversation. It was truly a day of bliss. I got to see a black swan. (Nobody but my mother will probably understand what a thrill that was for me.) I enjoyed a picnic overlooking a beautiful lake. I went on a very well-presented tour of the palace and then savored afternoon tea while looking out at one of the palace gardens. And then I wandered through a secret garden before heading off to the alpaca farm where Mary will be staying for the next two weeks (see next post for more details). Monday rated as one of my top ten best days ever. Thank you, Tim, my wonderful husband, for making it possible.

Belated congratulations

2007-03-19T20:48:00.000Z

You wouldn't believe this story if it happened on a soap, but it really happened to my sister:

Heidi had Charlie in May of 2006. He was a healthy baby boy. The following September she called her doctor to say that she'd had a period but then had skipped her next one--could she be pregnant? Her doctor assured her that since she was on birth control she was not pregnant, that her hormones were still just sorting themselves out and she was fine. In December when she started lactating she knew her doctor had been wrong, so she called to make an appointment for an ultrasound. They couldn't fit her in until January, and when she did go they told her she was already six months pregnant! She and her partner decided they wanted to get married before their second baby arrived, and so they started planning a wedding for February. But there were complications in the pregnancy, and so they had to induce labor on Friday, February 23, the day before the scheduled wedding. Heidi got an epidural, started pitocin, and then got married in her hospital bed to Kevin Young.

Baby Carly was born a few hours later, seven weeks early, weighing in at just under 5 pounds but breathing well on her own.

Congratulations, Heidi and Kevin!

A good word

2007-03-12T20:01:00.000Z

I love the word "cheeky". It's such a British word, and it has so many different uses. For example:

When Tim uses the bath salts that he bought for ME in America, that's pretty cheeky of him.
And when I say to Addien "come here" she looks at me, starts laughing, says "cheeky!" and runs away, letting me know that she's being cheeky.
When Cerys talks back to me I say, "Don't be so cheeky."
And when she says something particularly precocious I say, "You cheeky monkey."
If I'm going to ask for a particularly big favor or ask something that may be considered a little too personal I'll say, "I have a cheeky question."

If I ever move back to America I'm definitely going to introduce it into the American language.

A Guest Appearance

2007-03-07T13:38:00.000Z

Thanks for the inviting me to be a guest on your blog, Greta. Happy
to be here. Where do I clip this microphone? Tea? Can I get some tea
with this big wedge of cake? Ok, what do you want to know? Right.
Yeah. Sure, I'll talk about that - but hand me some more of that cake
first...

It's always a joy watching how our children develop their language
skills – seeing them work hard at watching, learning, and then having
a crack at putting associated sounds into practice. The joy they
experience when they get it bang on, resulting in the turning of
smiling heads and cheers of 'hurray!' from their close family
members... ah good times. good times.

What's even more of a joy is when they don't quite hit the target,
but are convinced that they have. This takes a little longer to
'correct' since, as far as they're concerned, it's a done deal.
They've already moved on to the next challenge. And not that we want
to correct, cos it's so darn cute.

For example:
Swiper the Fox is a very naughty character from Dora the Explorer
who's always trying to swipe Dora's stuff. Sometimes he gets his
loot, but most of the time he's rumbled by Dora and her best friend
Boots who see the fox with just enough time to chant thrice 'Swiper
no swiping', which results in the foiling of Swiper's horrid plans.
Swiper's response to this outcome is always the same, he clicks his
fingers and yells 'Oh ma-a-a-a-a-n!'.

For the past couple of weeks, when we pray at the dinner table to
thank God for the day we've had, and for the food we're about to
enjoy, we all hold hands to pray. Cerys loves the bit where Greta or
I say '... in Jesus' name' since that's her cue to yell 'AMEN!'
Addien, of course, joins in unison with a hearty lung-filled 'Oh ma-a-
a-a-a-a-a-a-a-n!'

VERY good times!

Tim

What I Do

2007-03-03T20:13:00.000Z

If I were to tell about my day it would go something like this:

I woke up this morning with Cerys shouting "MOMMY! I NEED A WEE WEE!" at the top of her lungs. I struggled to get my belly out of bed and went to get her and Addien up. I do love that part of the day when they're so happy to see me, and I to see them. Cerys peed, I helped her get her pajamas back on, and then we went down for breakfast. I made milk, got juice, toast and cereal and settled the girls down for their food and quickly make something for myself as well. We said goodbye to Tim as he cycled off to work, and then we went upstairs to get dressed. I changed a diaper, helped Cerys choose her clothes, tickled Addien as I got her dressed, played peekaboo, watched Cerys do her chalking on her blackboard and admired the "sun" that she drew. Then we went downstairs and headed to playschool where I dropped Cerys off and then headed to the grocery store with Addien. I did the shopping while trying to keep Addien entertained in the trolley. When we got home I got the groceries and Addien in the house and raced upstairs to empty my bladder, which has been pushed upon until it is apparently the size of a pea. I quickly checked my e-mail since Addien was quiet downstairs, but to my dismay found that she has found the carton of eggs and broken two of them and was sitting in a puddle of egg with some nice yolk dripping out of her mouth. Hoping that she wouldn't get salmonella, I picked her up and put her in her second outfit of the day just in time to head out to get Cerys from playschool. Upon arrival back home I made lunch, finished putting away the dishes and cleaned the kitchen then put the girls up for their naps. Somewhere in there I changed another diaper and put Addien in her third outfit of the day since her bib didn't catch the spray of tomato seeds from her lunch. I balanced the checkbook, did some laundry, ate a couple of cookies, read my Bible, checked my e-mail again, talked to my sister Anna and snoozed on the couch until Cerys decided it was time for her to get up. Then we watched some children's tv, I did some ironing, got dinner ready and got Addien up from her nap around 4. We had a snack, did some puzzles, sang some songs, hung up the laundry, tidied up the toys, greeted Daddy at the door around 6, ate dinner, gave the girls a bath, put them to bed around 7:30 and then collapsed after doing my third lot of dishes of the day.

Not the most captivating of stories, I admit, but it's what I do. And most days I really love it. I can't imagine doing anything else. Sure, it would be nice to have a tidy little list that I could cross off and get a real sense of satisfaction for jobs well done, but I'd miss this messy little life of endless runny noses, dirty diapers, copious demands for drinks and songs, and children clinging to my legs at the most inopportune times. I have to remind myself of that on days like today when I think I can't cope with one more monotonous, unnoticed task. I love my life. I really do.

A Cake Decorating Feat

2007-02-21T12:48:00.000Z

I am so proud of the birthday cake Anna and I made for Cerys, I just had to post it. Cerys really liked the movie "March of the Penguins" and this cute little show out here called Pingu that's all about a little penguin. So she chose a penguin cake. Check it out.

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl

2007-02-17T19:19:00.000Z

My baby turned three today. Happy birthday, Cerys Anna.

A Song that Taught Me this Week

2007-02-11T07:29:00.000Z

God in my living
There in my breathing
God in my waking
God in my sleeping
God in my resting
There in my working
God in my thinking
God in my speaking

Be my everything
Be my everything
Be my everything
Be my everything

God in my hoping
There in my dreaming
God in my watching
God in my waiting
God in my laughing
There in my weeping
God in my hurting
God in my healing

Christ in me
Christ in me
Christ in me, the hope of Glory
You are everything

Christ in me
Christ in me
Christ in me, the hope of Glory
Be my everything

A jumble of thoughts about a conversation

2007-02-04T20:22:00.000Z

I had kind of a rotten week last week. One of my best friends here finally confronted me on something that had been stewing for the past six months. I'd known she was acting distant, but there was a lot going on with her, so after asking several times if we were "okay" I wrote it off to her own personal struggles. But then Tuesday she came at me with an apology that was slightly confrontational. She apologized for not being a good friend for the past six months and explained that she had withdrawn because the way I had acted when she talked to me about a situation had made her feel defensive. I won't go into detail, but the gist of it was that I'm not good at hiding what I'm feeling, so even though I hadn't said anything in particular to offend, she realized that I was annoyed with the person she was telling me about, and that upset her. But she said that wasn't my fault. She thanked me for being a good friend, and she thanked me for my candidness. So really, I guess it wasn't a confrontation, but I felt confronted. I felt like a big mouth. I felt like I ought to learn to keep my mouth shut. I cried a lot, and apologized for making her feel bad, and we hugged and made up, but I went home feeling like I wanted to be swallowed up. I had felt so lonely in Clapham, and I wondered why my friend didn't call, didn't visit, and when I asked if there was anything wrong and got "no" for an answer, I did try to write it off, but I realized once the floodgates were open that actually I had been feeling really abandoned and thinking that I must not be a friend worth having. So for a few days after I went through a pendulum of emotions that I'll recap here.

I felt angry. I felt cheated. I felt betrayed. I had tried to figure out why there seemed to be a distance and I was told there was nothing wrong, and that made me doubt my perceptions.

I felt grateful that she had finally cleared the air. I missed her friendship, and I'm looking forward to spending more time with her again.

I felt sorry for her. It must be tough to be so afraid of being honest that you shut out an important person in your life for six months.

I felt sad that I had missed out on so much for the last half a year.

I felt condemned. Even though she didn't say anything about me being a big mouth, I had a little voice in my head telling me the whole thing was really my fault. Saying, "If you're not careful, you're not going to have any friends. People don't like being around you because you're honesty borders on brutality. You're never going to learn to shut up. Why can't you just be quiet?" And so on. I felt as though a voice outside myself was berating me and telling me things that I know are lies. (Yes, Mom, I know those things aren't true, thanks to your never-ending supply of wonderful encouragement. I love that you are sitting there thinking of what you can say to make sure that I don't believe these things about myself. Don't worry, I don't, not really.)

I felt encouraged. I told my husband how I was feeling, particularly about feeling condemned, and he was so great at telling me the truth, that people appreciate my honesty. My friend Mike, not knowing this, but commenting on a different subject, encouraged me by calling it "spunk". And I was able to focus on the part where my friend thanked me for being such a good and honest friend.

I feel better now. I feel ready to start fresh with a friendship that I cherish deeply. I still feel a little raw, and a little concerned that maybe I never will learn to stop wearing my heart on my sleeve. But thankfully I have a wonderful husband, a wonderful mother, and wonderful friends who seem to love me despite, and sometimes even because of, this character trait.