Train a child in the way they should go....

I don't know who else needs to hear this today, but this verse from Proverbs 22 isn't condemning you:

"Train a child in the way they should go and when they are old they will not depart from it."

Here's what it's not saying:

This proverb is not a magic formula.  

It's not a prosperity gospel - do this and all these amazing things will happen.

How do I know this?

Because I need to hear this too.

Here's what we did:

👉Daily family morning bible and prayer times

👉Teaching our boys to pray and listen to God

👉Seeing the sick healed

👉Telling others about Jesus

👉Memory verses

👉Instrument-learning for worship times

👉Encouraging them to engage during church meetings

👉Going to God first whenever there's a problem

👉Seeing God answer prayers - huge ones too

👉Experiencing the weight and heavy glory of the presence of God.

Here's what we also did:

👉Teaching them to question and find answers for themselves

👉Teaching them to take risks and succeed or fail well

👉Giving them choices and helping them to make wise ones

👉Accept and love them when they're not so wise

And this has led to them asking their own questions about faith and the world.  

It's led to them making their own choices, which aren't the ones we'd hoped for.  

They've made mistakes.

They are their own people, with their own thoughts and values.

Watching this can be crushingly disappointing.  

The fear can be paralysing.  

The internal accusations never-ending.

But isn't this how Father God parents us?

He didn't make us robotic, following sets of rules and loving him because we have to.

He gave us choices.  He made us free. Our lives are messy.  We make mistakes.  We do things in ways that grieve his heart.  We find the real meaning of grace when we discover that we are still accepted and loved by him, despite our choices.  And in the end, we love him because we choose to not because we have to.

So, if you're in this shitty gritty season of watching your babies who used to sing and pray in church now reject all those things you taught them....

Well done.

Because you've trained people who are thinking for themselves.

You have taught them how to make choices, how to mess up, how to be real.

You've succeeded in giving them the freedom to find out what they really believe about the world.

Every time you tell them you love them or find a way to encourage them, you are modelling grace and love and acceptance to them.

You are rocking it.  

When you can't force social distancing...

I am mum to one almost-teenager and two teenagers.

One of these teenagers is very complex.

As well as ADHD, he also has something called Oppositional Defiance Disorder.

I know what you’re thinking, because I used to think the same thing.

It’s just another term for ‘naughty, undisciplined, badly parented’.

Until I realised that my parenting seemed to be vaguely successful with my other two children.

Not this one though.

Tell him that something is off limits, and he’ll be there in a heartbeat.

Say no and he’ll go ahead anyway.

Give a consequence and he won’t care.

He’s not just naughty and undisciplined.  In fact, he more disciplined than any of the others.  It just doesn’t seem to make any difference.

So, having a teenager (think ‘no fear, risk-loving, rebellious, self-centred) combined with ODD (think off-the-charts-actually-you-probably-can’t-even-imagine-it) when the government give guidelines to stay at home and social distance from each other means that my life over the last few days has been pretty shit (excuse the language, but this is how we roll these days - #likersgonnalike #hatersgonnahate and all that).

If you see a teenager out and about right now, please don’t judge the parents.  If they are anything like us, they will have attempted Every. Single. Known. Way. of explaining the situation to their teen and it will have, quite literally, gone through their selfish ears and out again before you can even cough.

“What if you try to stop him at the door?” you might ask.

He would actually punch us. 

“What if you locked him in his bedroom, or locked the front door?”

He would jump out of the window.  He’s done it before.

So, we know we all have to ‘to do our bit’ and we really are doing our best here.

We know that we have to flatten the curve and protect the invaluable NHS.

We know that saving lives is vital.

But please don’t judge us because our teenager is out and about.

And please don’t give us any parenting advice.  We’ve had more advice than you can stockpile toilet roll.

We know he shouldn’t be out.

We don’t know how to stop him.

Please be kind.

Just be kind.

When courage doesn't feel courageous.

Last summer we had a sunshiney family holiday.  Incredibly we were able to go to Santorini in Greece and we loved the water, the heat and, of course, the food.

As a treat, we booked a day out on a boat to visit the local hot springs, tour the beautiful island and jump in and out of the sea.

The trouble is, I don't really like jumping into water.  The rest of my family seem to be able to fling themselves into water from any angle possible.  Not me.  It's too scary.

So I spent the few days leading up to the boat trip practicing.  I jumped into the swimming pool, first of all with my lovely Jonah there to pull me up in case anything went wrong.  Then, as I was more confident, I managed to jump without anyone there at all.

When we finally reached the big day, I was determined.  As expected, the boys spent the whole day backflipping, somersaulting, pushing and dive bombing into the sea.  

I mostly (ungracefully) climbed down the ladder on the side of the boat.  Until we reached the hot springs.  I wanted to be able to jump in.  I knew it would be safe (ish).  Jared was next to me.  But as I stared at the water, it felt like an enormous drop.  I was scared.  So, instead of jumping, I took a step off the boat and slid into the water.  It wasn't very ladylike and I resurfaced spluttering.

But I did it.  

And that's how courage feels.

I wasn't feeling full of energy.

I didn't have the 'ooomph' and 'pump' to do it.

I was still scared, even though I'd practiced.

The water looked too deep.

My brain was telling me not to do it.

I didn't know how it would end.

I wasn't feeling like Wonderwoman.

But the Disney and Pixar version of courage isn't real.  To have all you need before you make that scary jump just is fictional.

Courage is making the jump anyway.

Courage is waking up each morning, without knowing all the answers, but getting out of bed anyway.

Courage is loving that person who can't return your love at the moment.

Courage is crying and wobbling, but going ahead with the decision you've made.

Courage is knocking on a door and not knowing what's on the other side.

Courage is saying no when you can't do it all.

Courage is taking the scary feelings, piling them out in front of you and then stepping over the pile.

Courage sometimes means we resurface spluttering.

Courage doesn't ignore the 'you can't' words.  Sometimes courage takes those words along on the ride.

Courage is persevering when everything inside wants to give up.

Courage does not feel all the Hollywood feels.  

Its a tiny stubborn spark of determination that, despite the reality of the circumstances, propels you to make that jump.

Post-Christmas Musings

And so we come to the end of another Christmas. 
The decorations are down (sigh of relief) and the choccies are all gone (love/hate feelings...).

I decided to set my expectations low for Christmas this year, knowing that in the past I have seriously believed that my family could be the same as the perfect ones on the telly and then being bitterly disappointed when someone threw someone else's toothbrush out of the window or someone else used all of someone's lynx to light their own farts.

Some people may think this is a pessimistic way to approach the holidays.  I prefer to believe it is realistic.  I kept everything extremely simple. No baking, no home-made decorations, no bible-versed advent calendars at breakfast and even no turkey! And it worked. 

Rather than look back over the last couple of weeks and feel weary and discouraged because we didn't all play instruments together for our own family Carol Service (seriously, I made them do this more than once) or manage a 10 mile hike up the nearest hills on Boxing Day, I can actually point to several triumphs of our time together. 

So, for my own benefit mostly but also in case it encourages you, here are my 2019 Christmas triumphs:

1. We played a game all together without anyone falling out.  No board-throwing across the room.  No stomping out and slamming doors.  There was laughter, banter and even the occasional encouragement!  It was a Christmas miracle and one that this mum's heart will treasure.

2.  Christmas Dinner was enjoyed by all.  Instead of turkey, we had bought a few different smaller joints of meat and we created a carvery.  Everyone chose their own food and piled it on their plates. This meant that they ate the lot and if you've ever seen my face when food is wasted, you will know that this pleases my little soul immensely.

3.  We slept.  Thankfully long gone are the days of waking up in the middle of the night with little ones.  These days it's the other way round as we are awake late waiting for the big ones to come home. But having two weeks off work meant that we could sleep in late each morning.  And it was delightfully decadent.

4.  We had chance to re-connect.  Without the pressures of school and work, the reminders to do homework, the checking for letters in bags, making sure everyone is where they need to be at the right times, we could all relax and remember why we actually like each other.  Time spent chatting about the important life stuff meant that we could appreciate each others' hearts again.  Realising that, whilst they make choices I don't always agree with, my older two young men have minds and thoughts of their own gave me a fresh gratitude for them and the way they think.


I'm not the kind of person who makes New Year's Resolutions.  (Apart from one year when I resolved not to look for anyone's stuff anymore.  It worked, by the way.  I still don't look for their apparently lost stuff unless they are desperate.  It's usually right in front of them.)  So, I won't harp on about goals for the year.  But 2020 is going to be a year of change for our family with one boy completing GCSE's and leaving school and another boy completing 'A' Levels and heading off to University.  My plan is to be a mum who chats.  I want to make time to chat over after-school snacks three-course-meals.  I want to accept and not judge.  I want to be an ear to help them process the stuff of life. 

I'm bracing myself, yet again, for, well, I don't quite know what for. 
But life moves forwards, and so must we.