Every year and it’s still worth it. Autumn Beauty. Enjoy.
October
And the trees are stripped bare
Of all they wear
What do I care
October
And kingdoms rise
And kingdoms fall
But you go on…and on..
October
Posted in Life on the journey
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Dallas for Dummies
There was an American writer on spirituality called Dallas Willard. He, from the brief snippets I’ve actually read from him, was a profound man who wrote many deep utterances about life with God. My excellent brother has quoted from him and has urged me to read his books many times. I confess I haven’t. They require a level of concentration that I haven’t been able to achieve. One day I hope to.
Until then I am grateful that John Ortberg sets himself up as a self confessed ‘Dallas for Dummies’. He distills stuff Dallas has said and makes it accessible for the sleep deprived and those in need of shorter sentences. He recalls small quotes that he’s heard over the years that are anything but soundbites. The one that most sticks in my mind is the quote ‘ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life’ as an answer to the question of how to stay spiritually healthy. The only answer he gave. Sounds like a pithy statement but is one of those ones that goes deep. John Ortberg in another book goes on to see what that might look like – choosing the longest supermarket queue is one of the examples he gives. Mental. But there may just be something in it.
Anyway that’s what John does. He makes Dallas a bit more accessible. Thus in the last week I’ve been able to read through his latest book Soul Keeping. A birthday present I received this year from the excellent Americans.
It’s really a tribute to Dallas and the impact of his life on those around him whilst reflecting on the what taking care of the soul is all about. It’s a good read. Mainly because it reminded me that I have a soul, that it functions best and is at peace when it is centred on God and there are many things to watch out for that cause my soul to be fractured. I’ve loved the reminders that what matters is that I rest in the reality that I am God’s child before anything else. My character matters before any of the stuff I do and there is nothing more important than good soul care as our souls are eternal. It made me look again at some of my actions that in effect were ripping apart my soul and gave me cause for hope in my soul’s maker to carry on working in me and giving me all the satisfaction I need in this life.
A pretty good read. Thanks to the lovely Deb and Keith for the present and to John Ortberg writing in such an accessible yet profound way to help this sleep deprived pregnant lady find some good reminders of reality in this waiting time.
Eviction notice…
I think these pictures might say it all this week. Yes we wait. Blah blah blah. Expectant joy. Blah blah. Living one day at a time. Blah blah. Enjoying all the precious moments before the baby gets out, thankful for those that are helping out, glad of each other in these weird last few days. You get the picture. It’s been another week of waiting, pretending not to wait and all the rest of it inbetween.
Another Saturday night.
I sit again at the end of another week. Wanting to write of other things apart from waiting. But waiting is all we have. Good waiting filled with joy and expectant hope. Tough waiting full of groaning and longing and, let’s face it, a whole lot of moaning. Despairing waiting thinking this will never happen and wondrous waiting at the mystery of it all.
It’s been another week in the life of us. I’ve got bigger, I’m sure. The boy has been back to being delightful after his grumpy teething week. I’ve felt all the emotions of being a Mum at home, wonder, delight, frustration, loneliness, fun, gratitude, despair, impatience, patience and a whole lot more. Once more I was granted a day in bed and once more we made it to Saturday for another day together as the three of us wondering how much longer that will last.
Today felt like the calm before the storm. We lazed around in a local country park enjoying the boy running up and down hills, picking up sticks, walking in tree tunnels and to my delight collecting conkers.
Even though it’s been crazy hot recently the signs of my favourite season are upon us. The leaves are turning and falling to the ground, the nights are getting darker and there are conkers to be found. Big fat shiny conkers. Beautiful signs that autumn is almost here. I’m glad we got to collect them and we all enjoyed the conker tea the boy gave us when we got home.
We live in a city and I think that’s ok but I love the countryside as well and want our boys to delight in it too. Our first one is always a bit unsure about different things (can’t think where he gets that from…) but after refusing to go under a tree and asking for the iPad he soon got into the enjoyment of life outdoors, demanded to go in the wood and loved finding conkers and putting them in Daddy’s pocket. There is hope for us yet.
Another week gone…
Another week has passed. Another week in which too often I have given into grumpiness and complaining about this last stage of the pregnant world. A week in which there have been wonderful gifts of time and space and sleep. A week in which there have been people to hear the moans and groans, friends who have sympathised and cared and given me soothing cups of tea. A week where I have lost my patience with a grumpy teething boy too much. A week where I have seen how delightful and beautiful it is to get to hang out with him each day. A week where I have seen my Maker step in and provide release from the past and hope for the future. A week where I have started to own what will soon happen to my body and look forward to meeting our squirmy son.
It’s been another week of waiting, of frustration and of hope. The tangled mess of emotions that make up our days. Best of all was the day where I got to sleep, rest and be away from the boy for a few hours thanks to the lovely Jo, one of his Godmums. In that day I also got to make the most of the excellent ‘Birth Stories’ service that our hospital offers. We sat down with a lovely senior midwife and talked through the boy’s birth in detail, giving our recollections and seeing how much they matched the reality of what happened. We heard again the reasons for the interventions made and got a clearer picture of what was going on. I found out lots of positive things that my body was already doing, it knows how to do this labour business, even with a silly back to back baby. I discovered that it really might be better this time around given all those positive things and I wept as I laid to rest some of the ghosts of those traumatic intense 25 hours of labour. I left the boy’s birth in that room, with his notes, with my notes. The labour ahead of me is a different one, it will take a different shape and I am intrigued and hopeful of what my body can accomplish. I left the room feeling like a massive burden had been lifted and I need not fear what lies ahead.
The Bible talks a lot about the groanings of childbirth, the very world we live in is described as groaning in frustration as it waits for liberation. That’s a mighty long labour. But it is one that has hope at the core, hope of a glorious future, a world where sin and sorrow no longer dwell and a world where everything will be made new. My labour is a small foretaste of that, a beautiful image of a world longing for the sad to be made untrue and a new world to come. There is real hope at the heart of childbirth. There is real hope at the heart of this aching and broken world longing to be set free from the darkness and struggle.
And so we wait.
Life carries on as normal with the knowledge on it’s edges that everything will soon be tipped upside down again as our second son arrives to mess with our heads and take over our hearts.
Into another week we plunge, waiting, hoping, wondering.
The Long Walk Home 