Well, it’s Friday morning and for the first time in about 3 months I’m back in my favourite cafe in Brighton to recapture some of my writing mojo. This pregnancy lark certainly takes a while to get used to, but the nausea has stopped for now and there are thoughts to be processed onto these pages. As I emerge from my coma of sickness and tiredness a few things have changed in my landscape, I can no longer cycle/walk anywhere without being ridiculously puffed out, I was healthy dammit, I could run and everything. Now I’m lucky if I want to walk anywhere. I must get in the swimming pool this week and stop inhaling chocolate by the kilogram. I must.
I’m also thinking through another shift in my identity coming up. Limbo land is a weird place to be but it does at least give me a chance to start to ponder the changes that come with another label to attach to my person. Well, it gives me a chance to cry through the resulting fears and worries and present my snotty face to husbandface and let him laugh at me, reassure me and generally be lovely. This week I started to freak out that I was once more losing my name. A thing that would only be true if I never saw anyone but my future children for the rest of my life. The Mum title will be given to me but it, once more, won’t be the most defining thing about me, and anyway it will be more fun to have than my current job title of fundraiser.
After bawling out my fears all over the aforementioned husbandface I sat down with that rather important book again to try and once more figure out and address my worries. I like that about our God, he doesn’t tell me that I’m a fool for having such worries, or scorn my over-thinking, over-analytical personality. He does gently prise me away from my crazy internal world and kindly, compassionately shows me a better reality to live in. This time it was back to the old old words written a long time ago which have such power to transform all of our lives. Ephesians 5:1-2 always has the answer to who we are and what we are doing down here.
Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.
We are dearly loved children of God and we’re called to live a life of love. Whether we have babies or not, whether we have 5 labels attached to our name or none, whether we are surrounded by people who think we are brilliant or whether it’s a struggle to face each day and encounter others. We are dearly loved children. Whether the worst or best happens to us today or we just bumble through the day like any other. We are dearly loved. Dearly loved. Dearly loved. We can walk through this world with confidence knowing that whatever changes in our situations and lives, that big fat truth remains, well, true.
We also all have a call on our lives, a role to play, a part in this grand epic story. We have a universal calling that applies to all our situations and circumstances. We are to live a life of love, imitating our kind loving Father, sacrificing as Jesus did when he walked this earth. Whether in a job, with housemates, with deep committed friends, with husbands and wives, with children and grandchildren. Through all the varying circumstances we live in the call is the same. To reach out in love. My life is going to look very different in 6 months time (God willing), mine and husbandface’s relationship will change and develop, friendships will change and develop, hopefully new friendships will be formed and old friendships will evolve. Through all that and more the heart of me remains. I am Kath, I am dearly loved and I am called to live a life of love in the arms of my Father.
That is where peace is finally found in my internal wranglings. Phew.