We’ve made it. Just one more sleep until the day itself. And then. Well. Back to normality. Hopefully a bit more aware of hope, wonder and a birth, life, death and more that is still making waves across the world.
Today we attempted to contain the boys over excitement.
We went to church and I got to read out one of my favourite passages in the Bible (John1) and hopefully provided a space for people to start to treasure the reality of Jesus in. You can listen here.
I was reminded that the light has come into the dark and the dark is really clueless as to how to cope. Phew.
I played one of the songs that always fills my heart with hope. You can listen to that below.
Throughout today I was aware that this day is hideously painful for friends of mine and remembering that Christmas really sucks at painful sad times. So much love to all who are struggling tonight to see the hope.
We dashed out this after for a brief run on a windy seafront and found ice cream.
We made gingerbread people and somehow we are about to convince the boys that sleep might be a good plan.
All in all it’s been a fairly routine Sunday with extra madness added in for dramatic affect.
After all this wonder recording this month I’m going to step away from the dopamine hits of those little red ticks and get away from social media for a few days over Christmas. I need to stop. I want to live an unrecorded life for a bit. I want to find Jesus at the end of this slightly mental year. I’ll be back with lots of lists summing up the year in a week’s time.
Happy Christmas to you all!
Oh and one more thing…
I’ll sign off with my favourite quote from the new Star Wars film.
“Hope is like the sun, if you only believe in it when you can see it you’ll never make it through the night.”
Here’s to finally making it through the night one day…
The boys excitement is overwhelming them. Flushed cheeks and tears before bed.
We ate Saturday Pancakes this morning because it is Saturday. (This is where routines really help our brains).
We dashed around a National Trust property this morning, finding nursery rhymes and playing ‘what’s the time mr Wolf’. We delighted in our eldest and having the full picture of him again, not just the grumpy tired at the end of the day.
We ran and laughed and drove home to quiet tv time.
I read through my sermon/reflection for tomorrow morning and pray that God would show up and give people some peace, some nugget of treasure of Jesus to guide them through Christmas.
We got all the books out of the library and ate amazing roast dinner.
We wrestled them towards bed. Overtired moaning continues.
The gap in our advent puzzle tells of not long to go.
I sit, waiting for our lovely Godfamily to arrive for games and fun.
I pray this prayer from my prayer book:
“Jesus, Prince of Peace; I’ve lost my childlike wonder and stuffed the emptiness with Christmas busyness and sappy sentiment. Remind me of the miracle of Christmas, that you not only assumed a human nature but a real human soul; you were fully human. Fill me with renewed wonder that you came to save me wholly, body and soul. Amen.”
Coffee, Bible and notebook to push away the morning grumps.
Superman pose to start the day (see Grey’s Anatomy- apparently it is supposed to make you feel in control…).
6k run through the gloom and mist. ‘It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas’ ringing in my ears 🙂
Heading to town with my beautiful boys, delighting in the weirdos and their commentary through this world we live in.
Heading to Oskar’s Amazing Adventures with our NCT group, loving the boys delight in the play and being with old friends again.
Amazed at how we have kids at school now. What?!
Surviving Pizza Express with the crazies. Glad of friendship over the last 5 years, bonded by the insanity of having small people at the same time. Loving seeing the small ones get on with each other despite some being apart for a while now they are at school.
Catching up with our Godson for his birthday and hanging with his lovely family.
Cuddling the boys through their exhausted crying hour at the end of the day. Remembering they were delightful at the beginning of the day 🙂
Husbandface being able to be fully engaged despite the screaming crazy mess of the boys.
Advent from the archives for one more time. This one because I really like my writing here. Also it’s good to look back and marvel that although things have been pretty bad around here this year I feel full of hope at a God that does exist and do stuff in this world. I am not as weary today as I was when I wrote this. That doesn’t mean I won’t be that weary again but it is good to note the ebbs and flows of this odd life we lead…
And so we’ve made it, to the last Sunday in Advent, to the end of term and the start of the holidays. We’ve made it to this strange land of Christmas. To be honest I’m not feeling it this year. I’m too much in a haze, my brain exploding with thoughts of moving house (don’t get me started on how odd and surprising that feels right now) and the weirdness of not having slept for more than 2 hours in a row for 10 weeks.
Christmas feels a far away event, something to be gazed at through frosted panes of glass. However, the myriad of fairy lights outside houses around our city reminds me that something is happening. Son1 points out to me the characters in the nativity daily: kingandkingandshepherdandmaryjosephanddonkeyandcamelandpresentandpresent
andbabyjesus. There is something going on, however remote it feels.
There is something going on which helps make sense of this strange walking through treacle land I find myself in, which helps me keep on plodding through the dark.
It’s that old word again, Emmanuel. God with us. God with man is now residing. The Maker of all has stepped into the darkness and the darkness doesn’t know what to do. In the midst of aching hearts, weary bodies and confusing times we have a God who knows what it’s like to be in our shoes.
John1:14 says it all:
The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood
The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.
And the Word (Christ) became flesh (human, incarnate) and tabernacled (fixed His tent of flesh, lived awhile) among us
The Voice took on flesh and became human and chose to live alongside us.
Son1 has read his beginners bible book about the cross so many times (so much that I am sick of it…which feels wrong…) that every time he sees a cross shape he pronounces loudly that ‘Jesus died on the cross’. Interestingly he then recites his own little narrative of what happened next: ‘then fall down, then Jesus cry, then Jesus sad’. It’s the same narrative he recites when he has hurt himself. ‘E fall down, then E cry, then E sad.’ He’s teaching me something of what it means for Jesus to be human. Jesus knows everything my little weirdo toddler has been through and has been through it himself. He knows our pain and he came to ultimately do something about it and about our immediate problem which oddly is bigger than our pain.
The trouble is I don’t think there is a problem bigger than my pain. I just want sleep, I want my mates not to go through what they are going through, I want a clear and certain future for my brother and his family. I want world flipping peace whilst we are at it. I’m with the Jews- give me a messiah who is going to sort my immediate situation out. What’s the use if he doesn’t?
What could be more important?
And this is where the words get weak and frail and I can’t really believe them as I write. Apparently we do have a bigger problem. A rift between the Creator and Created that needs to be healed. A new creation that needs to be kick started. Life and death stuff that the birth, life and death of a baby 2000 years ago dealt with.
There are reasons for rejoicing in the mess and uncertainty of this world but I think it’s a minor key kind of rejoicing. There is a Saviour. There is hope. There is a final day when all the sad will be made untrue but there is a whole lot of confusion and pain right now that doesn’t get sorted out. It’s a wintery joy. A pale sun shining through winter trees showing the hope of summer in the chill of winter.
That’s all I’ve got right now, a whole load of confusion, mess and fear. Winter is around.
But the seasons change. I don’t understand many things but I cling to the hope of the tender mercy of our God. A God I do not understand and cannot feel right now, but a God who took on flesh, who fell down and cried and was sad. He’s here. Emmanuel. And so we rejoice in that minor key of weary hope.
Emmanuel has come to us.
Emmanuel is here.
And so we have Sufjan Stevens and his rather wintery singing of O Come O Come Emmanuel.
(Christmas points to whoever can tell me what the difference between Emmanuel and Immanuel is…<Mark?>)
(Rather entertainingly son1 also likes to wander around the house singing Rejoice, Rejoice, Samuel is here… that would bring a whole different meaning to Christmas eh…)
(surely that’s enough parenthesises for one blog post..?)
A foggy morning run over the downs. Winter trees appearing suddenly through the mist. Joy through the gloom all around.
A morning off. Sermon prep. Embracing the silence. Sitting reading with my favourite.
Heading to a friend’s new shiny cafe for amazing food. Vastly impressed at the community building nature of it all. And the amazing flavours in my mouth.
Last school run of the year.
The term is over. The holidays have begun.
Oh and getting to go out for the second night in a row. Star Wars here we come 🙂
Blimey I’m late today. Anyway.
The Long Walk Home 