Friday morning in the park. The sun shines down. For the first time all week my body is no longer hurting, aching or sore. For the first time in 3 weeks I feel like writing and pondering our life again. It’s the last Friday of term. A phrase that feels very odd in the world we inhabit right now. It’s been a pretty horrible few weeks up to now. I’ve been ill for most of it. Husbandface had a week of being vaguely awake and engaged with the world, and then went he back to work. Oof. Which has been hard on him and fairly grim whilst I’ve been ill.
This morning I woke without feeling rubbish and instantly saw the effects. The boys were happy and played well together. I was able to be more calm with them. Nothing felt overwhelming anymore, the day before I’d been crying over the arduous task of trying to work out when I could send my Dad’s birthday card so he would get it in time. Today that was an easy task. Illness and exhaustion change everything. It’s good to realise that and feel less rubbish about the way I’ve been behaving recently.
I feel like I’ve dropped the ball many times in this parenting world, in living life well and being aware of people around me. Sometimes life is just about trudging through the fog until bedtime. There still doesn’t seem to be much clarity about the future, things changing, husbandface magically being healed or any of the other things I would like to make life feel better.
But this morning the sun is shinning, our estate is full of luminous green grass, our garden is full of wild primroses, the sky is blue, friends are coming for an Easter egg hunt this afternoon, we are off on an aeroplane to Northern Ireland tomorrow morning, holiday is happening, the boys are being mirrors of my positive happy mood and it’s impossible to not feel hopeful today.
Ah the changing shifts of my emotions. We ride out the waves. We ride through the dark days and the silent stares. We ride through the stressful shouting and bad choices. We ride through the weary exhaustion and sometimes the fog breaks. I think I’m glad I write when the fog breaks. I know that Psalm 88 is in the Bible for a reason. It is good to express the reality of no hope. But more often than not I write looking back from the top of whatever peak I have climbed. Able in a Psalm 77 type way to express the horrible and then to see the hope.
Anyways. Whatever the reasons, today the sun shines and I can envision hope again. Phew.
We’re lying in bed early on a Saturday morning. Me and the smallest. He’s squirming around and vaguely swimming in and out of sleep, eyes closing as soon as he makes contact with my skin. Opening again when he fears I’ve sneaked out of bed like I did 10 minutes ago. I’m not allowed to leave this circle of snuggle. Not for a moment.
I give into it. The grey light of morning shows me his little face and I savour the small hands that stroke me and the arms that grab me tight. I look in his face and become aware of the other parent in the room. The invisible one who knows me well. I talk to him. I ask for so much for this small one. For protection, for kindness to grasp him, for him to cherish the women he meets throughout his life, for his life to be full of compassion. Softly I am reminded that he may not become the perfect man. Neither of my beautiful boys have perfection in their future. I love small broken ones who are full of self and demands. I am one of those myself.
I sigh. Imperfection haunts me here. I ruefully adjust my requests and pray for deep grace and love for these boys whatever they grow into. Through their dark nights when they won’t love as they should. Through their pain as well their joys. Through their failures as well as successes. I ask for patience with the ups and downs of seeing their anger and rage when they don’t get what they want. I ask for an environment in our house that nurtures their faith. I ask for patience when they get it wrong and for patience and grace when I get it so so wrong. I too am full of anger at times and I haven’t been given up on yet. The fears of what they might become fade and I am reminded of a story that redeemed me and is still redeeming us. Of grace on the road and new starts.
I soak up the small ones smell, gaze deep in his eyes and bop his nose. He giggles and we snuggle some more. Who knows how long this need will last but for this moment I cherish the wonder. In the grey light of morning. I cherish the wonder.
Saturday lunchtime. The boys are watching their latest obsession. Tom and Jerry, which is bringing back all sorts of memories of Saturday afternoons/whenever on earth it used to be on TV back in the 80s. I’ve just got in from a very helpful morning at the women’s prayer breakfast at church. Pastries, good coffee, lovely chats with others and space to remember the invisible world I forget is still all around me.
I haven’t felt at all like writing anything here for these last two weeks. My head has been a trail of reductionist blergh. I’ve been moaning. Complaining. Weary. Frustrated. Resentful. Still coughing after 3 weeks. Shouty. Stressed. Wondering if I was a different person if I would be coping better. Wondering if our world will ever be normal again. My boys have suffered under my stress anger. I’ve found myself just as confused as them as to what is going on.
Much of that is still there. This morning though I sat in a circle with some women and listened as we talked about what God is like, as we spoke truth about his tender care, his loving ways, his trustworthy heart. I sat and looked as a small baby wriggled in its mothers arms/sling and cried in frustration. I felt the frustration in me echoed in that tiny person. I sensed again the sling holding me to my divine parents chest. The arms that comfort me in the anger and pain of not getting what I want and being unable to express my need clearly.
Somehow hope has crept in again. All I can see is the grim situation we are in and yet somehow I have been touched deep in my tender soul and can feel the tears welling as I have encountered again the safe and close love of God. It defies explanation but I am glad. Glad of a church to belong to that provides such spaces. Glad we are not alone. Glad the frustration is being soothed and glad I don’t have to just write a list of my moans to sum up the last two weeks.
In other news we’ve enjoyed the sunshine. The annual membership to a local farm has proved its worth time and again as we’ve had a known space to escape to where the boys can enjoy lots of physical outdoor play and we can sit. I have loved running in the daylight and even an evening run last night gave me a glimpse that dark running is over soon for the year and I have made it through winter. We have made it through winter and spring growth is all around. We are still in a very small world. A forest glade with no view but lots of green invading the floor.
We trudge on. Today slightly less wearily than recently. The fog of these few weeks has lifted a little and I’ll stop with the metaphors now. Lunch calls.
It’s time for my monthly round up of books and other stuff I’ve been into over the last month. I really like recording lists and remembering what I’ve read. I’m not sure I have any great insights to offer about these things but I like the idea of a future me remembering them rather than forgetting. So. Eight days into March here’s what I’ve read/watched/listened to since the last of these posts:
Behind Closed Doors- BA Paris.
Another of those Girl on the Train and Gone Girl style reads. Fairly predictable and not as good as those others but still tense and one to read if you want total escape from the rest of the world for a few hours.
The Broken Way – Ann Voskamp.
Really helpful book reminding me that life doesn’t have to look sorted before I follow Jesus and that sacrifice is a Good Thing. Here are some of the quotes that hit home the most. A good one for this season of life we are in right now.
“Never be afraid of broken things – because Christ can redeem anything. When I’m no longer afraid of brokenness, I don’t have control or possess anything- dreams or plans or people or their perceptions. I can live surrendered, cruciform, given. This feels like freedom.”
“There is nothing to fear in the wilderness of suffering- it is the land where God woos. The crush of crisis is but a passage into communion with Christ.”
“The self is ultimately never really sacrificed in giving but our real self is ultimately found. In the sacrificial giving of ourselves we give ourselves back our real selves, the self we were made to be- blessed to bless, given to givenness, loved to love”
Sacrifice isn’t so much losing what you love but giving your love on to whom you love more. When you sacrifice for what you love you gain more of what you love. Love is a risk, that’s never a risk….
What matters is that in the act of loving we become more like the givenness of love himself. What matters most is not if our love makes other people change but that in loving we change. What matters is that in the sacrificing to love someone we become like Someone. Regardless of anything or anyone else changing, the success of loving is in how we change because we kept on loving… in sacrificing ourselves we are guaranteed to discover the depths of our best and realest selves”
Reasons to Stay Alive- Matt Haig.
Excellent journey through his depression, what helps, what doesn’t and some really good explanations of what he went through. It was really easy to read as well, which helps in times where getting out of bed seems a step too far. Reading it and Susan Calman’s book on depression last month has made me aware again that the experience is different for different people and we all have to find out what works for us and the people around us who are struggling. I’m thinking of maybe reading a book on depression a month. Any recommends for March?
Spectacles- Sue Perkins
I really enjoyed this. Mainly for her descriptions of life with her family and tales of uni days that sparked off my own nostalgia fest.
The Course of Love- Alain de Botton
A kind of part novel, part philosophical meandering about what love is really all about. It was very fascinating and insightful as to the reality that love is a thing to be worked on and worked out, rather than a feeling that comes and goes. I think every person in a couple should read and discuss it. I’m not sure I agreed with all of it but it sparked off many thoughts and much truth was spoken. Most telling of all was the chapter on sulking which made me think he’d had a secret camera in our house. I like this quote: “We should add that it is a privilege to be the recipient of a sulk: it means the other person respects and trusts us enough to think we should understand their unspoken hurt. It is one of the odder gifts of love.” Over all it was a book full of realistic, helpful, interesting stuff about the ordinary everyday life as a couple.
Faithful- Alice Hoffman.
Really can’t think of much to say about this. It was ok. Fairly readable story of a teenager growing up and figuring life out against the backdrop of having being involved in a car accident that left her best friend dead.
Wonder- RJ Palacio
Oh I loved this so so much. A tale told from different perspectives of a boy with a severe facial disfigurement going to school for the first time. A beautiful book that made me cry. It was also brilliant to see good parent/teenager relationships portrayed where they engaged with and talked to each other. It gave me hope for the years ahead.
The Muse- Jessie Burton
Intriguing novel set in two time periods and two country’s dealing with art, identity, is something of intrinsic worth and value or do you need to be appreciated for your work? Loved the way it made me think and be at peace with people not seeing what I do all the time.
The Trouble with Goats and Sheep- Joanna Cannon
A great book themed around whether we can really tell who the sheep and goats really are. Really well written, intriguing right up to the end and a lovely hot summer 70s vibe. One to challenge the assumptions we make about people.
We’ve also watched lots of films recently:
Bad Mums – Hilarious and much needed if you have children and mess up as much as I do.
London has Fallen– possibly the worst film I’ve seen for a while. But we don’t care cos they blew up London and America saved the day and there were guns and explosions and swearing. So much swearing. Yeah. A no brainer with the saving point of being short.
The Martian– simply brilliant sci fi joy. Matt Damon is left behind on Mars and has to somehow survive and get home. Of course we all know he makes it. He’s Matt Damon after all. But it holds great tension in all the right places and brought to life lots of sci fi books I read as a teenager. Lots of it looked just like the things I had imagined. I liked that.
Sully – Tom Hanks rocking as the pilot who successfully landed a plane in the Hudson River saving all 155 people on board. I never knew the fight he had to prove it was the right and only decision and it was an interesting portrait of an expert flyer proving his judgement was sound and dealing with the decisions he made.
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.- I know we are late to this one, I blame the small ones. Not much to say other than I loved revisiting the Harry Potter world from a different perspective.
Passengers– Chris Pratt and Jennifer Lawrence as the only two passengers awake on a space ship headed to set up a new colony. Watchable enough but not life changing.
As for music. I’d love to say I’ve discovered a whole load of new lovely music but I haven’t. Martyn Joseph’s Sanctuary Album still accompanies my weekend breakfast making routines. Ed Sheeran’s new one is on heavy rotate when the children aren’t moaning about their choice. Really, honestly, all we’ve listened to this month is an album friends gave to us for the boys. Awesome Cutlery. A kind of less cheesy English version of Colin Buchanan it’s a whole load of God songs that are fun and annoyingly catchy. Son1 has learnt all the lyrics and both boys can recite the amusing sketches in between the songs. If you are in the line for some more music with brilliant God stuff in it I can recommend heartily.
This is our favourite song. Mainly for the rhymes. We like rhymes. All the time.
From the high of last week there was really only one place we could go. And oh did we go there. Down down down. Ah well. Before the crazy week I did have an amazing day out in London sitting in my friends flat, enjoying the excellent company of Anna and Sarah, consuming chocolate biscuits, smiling at an uber cute 4 month old, sharing my soul and hearing my friends souls and then crying out to God. It was good to laugh, to cry and to sit together.
I slept on the train home and woke up achy and exhausted in Brighton again. Fluey type achingness has been my companion this week, as has a hideous night cough as me and the boys descended into the world of ill. Sleep has been highly elusive. I have not run this week. I have not pleased my Fitbit stats with many steps each day. I feel a bit odd because of that.
Illness meant we tried to go slow this week. We spent a lot of time in front of the tv and lots of time reading many books. Husbandface had a pretty grim week health wise but was amazing in taking the boys to the farm on Wednesday afternoon whilst I slept. He was also a willing victim in hearing my sermon before today and was amazing in pushing through and dealing with the crazy ones at the beginning of church whilst I was sorting out practical stuff and praying with people before the service. He also deserves much kudos for putting up with pre sermon crazy Kath. He’s a good one.
As I’ve just mentioned the week also involved the run up to preaching at our lovely new church. (When does it stop being new? 6 months in? Now? Next year? When we’ve been there 10 years?). That meant a week of the devils lies getting in my head and swirly self doubt setting in. It also meant a week of spare time taken up with sermon writing or worrying about sermon writing (urgh). I managed a few spurts in the week and some lovely time at 3am on Saturday morning feeling the message I was preaching and curling up in Gods arms knowing how dearly loved I was. It wasn’t all bad preparing for it.
Prayers were answered and I managed to preach without a hideous coughing fit (which given the previous days was amazing) and I enjoyed getting preacher Kath out of the cupboard. I really love communicating to people they are loved by God and I got to do that lots this morning. It was great to chat to more people after and feel like we are making our home there more and more. Even if I did call our church by the name of our old church when I started this morning…
And there we are. Life on the ranch carries on and here’s hoping for some full recovery in the week ahead.
Friday morning in the park. The sun shines down. For the first time all week my body is no longer hurting, aching or sore. For the first time in 3 weeks I feel like writing and pondering our life again. It’s the last Friday of term. A phrase that feels very odd in the world we inhabit right now. It’s been a pretty horrible few weeks up to now. I’ve been ill for most of it. Husbandface had a week of being vaguely awake and engaged with the world, and then went he back to work. Oof. Which has been hard on him and fairly grim whilst I’ve been ill.
The Broken Way – Ann Voskamp. 
Reasons to Stay Alive- Matt Haig. 
Spectacles- Sue Perkins
The Course of Love- Alain de Botton
Faithful- Alice Hoffman. 
Wonder- RJ Palacio 
The Muse- Jessie Burton 
The Trouble with Goats and Sheep- Joanna Cannon
The Long Walk Home 