These weekly reviews seem to say the same thing at the moment. I think it’s still a good discipline but will understand if you want to skip to the end or just go and make yourself another cup of tea. It’s Saturday, I’ve escaped from the small people to queue up and get a haircut and it looks like it’s going to be a long wait. Ah town a few weeks before Christmas.
It’s been another one of those up and down weeks, we had a shouty day early on in the week. Son1’s anger seemed to go through the roof and I wondered what on earth was going on. Stuff at nursery? Weirdly emotionally exhausted parents? The trials of being 4? Thankfully a chat to his nursery teachers gave some clues. Apparently there had been ‘feisty’ (I can only imagine what was behind that overly charming word) behaviour and shifts in friendship groups. Son1 had been fine at nursery but clearly unsettled by what was going on and pouring it out at home. I’m grateful for whatever help they gave him on Wednesday morning after I chatted. He was a different boy for the rest of the week. Phew.
I love understanding my eldest weirdo, advocating for him and seeing change. Like me he’s quiet and compliant in social situations and then it all comes out in his safe place. I’m glad the nursery teachers understand him too and weren’t surprised when I chatted to them, could see why he was affected and were lovely in reassuring me.
The second half of the week was pretty delightful. Lots of stories, interaction, seeing friends and charming conversations. Oh and the return of poo into song lyrics. I have to admire the comic timing and genius when he sang ‘if you’re happy and you know it’ loudly on the bus, replacing clap your hands with clap your poo. So funny. So wrong.
Around that we’ve had a pretty grim head down through the dark kind of a week. It’s November. It’s gloomy. It feels like there are a whole load of question marks in our life at the moment and we feel a little lost. I sat and splurged my swirling thoughts to my Spiritual Director last night and came to the conclusion that I really need advent to start already.
In my book of Bible and prayer I’m going through the church year. Each day I look at the calendar at the top and see if I can head to the page marked Christ the King, the beginning of the Advent season. Each day I am stuck in ordinary time. Oh so true. I took a sneak peak this morning and tomorrow I get to launch into the preface to Advent. I need daily reminders that Emmanuel has come. I need the daily echo of my ache that he should come again. More than ever this year I yearn inside for this broken world to be made new. There feels like too much at stake now. I know so much has improved in our world over the last 100 years but it doesn’t seem like we are getting anywhere in greater love, in recognising our Maker and walking in his ways. I want an end to hurt, to pain, to suffering. I want him to come back so my son can see him and not have to wonder anymore why we can’t see God (a question I’m so with right now).
And there we are. Ploughing on. Seeking hope and reality and getting through the next 5 minutes at a time.
I totally forgot to include the best news ever. Urgh. I am a silly. This week a church has finally seen sense and employed the excellent brother and sister-in-law as a Discipleship Pastor. Leighton Buzzard you are a lucky lucky town (if slightly challenged in the name department). I am obviously extremely delighted and also glad of the bonus joy of them being an hour closer to us. Thought a happy end to the story was worth a mention here after my ranty rant back in February.