Waiting

At Christmas I gave up my job, with an exciting master-plan in my head about what I was going to do next.  Full of faith, I was ready to conquer the world.

Five months later, with no sign of the master-plan in place but having been taken on a soul-searching journey instead,  here are some of the things I've learnt:

1.  I'm the most impatient person I know.  Seriously.  Why can't everything happen NOW?

2.  Rest and time to step out of the whirlwind of a busy mind is so often neglected but vital to our wellbeing - that's why God created a 'day of rest'.  We need it and it actually shows more trust in Him to provide for us if we take that rest than if we keep ploughing through the exhaustion.

3.  I am more worried about what people think of me  (lazy / scrounging off hard working husband / not spending enough time looking for jobs etc) than I realised.

4.  I can step out of 'the boat' of my comfortable life and do things I never thought were possible, including taking my brave boys to a completely different culture and survive it, because I find God's strength in my constant jelly-kneed weakness.

5.  Trusting in God's perfect time rather than MY 'perfect' time takes courage.  It's not normal in our world today to let someone else be in charge and when you try to explain it to someone, even when they believe the same as you, they sometimes give you a quizzical look.

6.  Being busy wasn't the reason I didn't do the housework.  I'm not so busy now, and I still don't do it. 

7.  Holding onto a dream when you can't see any possibilities of it coming to pass isn't easy, but is required. 

8.  Comparing yourself to amazing people (Jackie Pullinger, Christine Caine, Nelson Mandela to name but a few) is not a good idea.  Everyone runs their own race.  We don't have to be like them.  We have to be like us.

9.  I fear wasting my life. 

10.  My imagination is far more expansive that I had thought.  Writing fiction stories for the first time has opened a whole new level of discovery inside my head.

11.  The level of dog poo on the school run increases as the evenings get darker earlier, and decreases when evenings are lighter.

12.  I love being at home to hug my boys at the end of the school day.  And when I forget to hug them, they remind me, so they must love it too.

13.  Waiting is more about what God is doing in me, rather than what I am waiting for.

And so, I wait. 

Expectant. 

Holding onto the flicker of excitement about what is next. 

In full knowledge that the Author of my life is one worth trusting.

A Boy Snippet

For those of you still fortunate enough to be living in a civilised world, here is a snippet from my boy-filled world.

1.  Burping is to be applauded.  Oh yes.  The bigger and longer, the better. And if you can burp the alphabet then you have reached a special status.

2.  Why make daisy chains when you can find a frog / spider / other disgusting creature and feed insects to it?  This activity can last a very long time so where I once may have wished they weren't doing it, now I am grateful when I begins because I know they will stay outside and happy (away from me) for a good half an hour.

3.  Apps such as 'ultimate fart noises' and 'let the poo through' will appear on the iPad.  You do not want to know anymore, I promise.

4. Bodily functions continue to fascinate, including during evening meals when they talk freely and openly in front of the youngest members of the family about what they learnt in sex education.  Rather than take this education seriously, they spend most of the mealtime giggling about it.

5.  Muscles are a necessity.  The phrase 'look at my guns' will be followed by kissing each bicep.  (Or is that just in my family?)

6.  Personal hygiene leaves nothing to the imagination.  As they grow older and have to do more for themselves I am mostly disgusted.  They seem to have the ability to have a shower without actual washing themselves, although somehow the floor manages to get a good rinsing (flooding).

7.  Noise is constant.  Singing, wittering, drumming, tapping, bodily functions, shouting.....  It never stops.  Needless to say, I enjoy my ear plugs.

8.  There are smells galore.  Every mother of a boy understands the need for the sniff test, and the sickening moment when you realise that those trousers crumpled in a heap on the floor were actually dirty.  

9.  Amongst a group, boys must always establish their pecking order.  Whoever is older / braver / taller / best at armpit farts will become top dog.  Competitions and challenges are therefore continuous.  Even silly ones like who can wash their hands first before mealtimes.

10. Topics of conversation on a car journey can include poo swinging out of bottoms and landing on the floor, evolution and adaptation, Minecraft and sky diving.  All in one journey.  I write from 'umming and ahhing to feign interest' experience.

Now you have been enlightened, you may re-enter your clean, ordered world.  Think of me, drowning in footballs, dirty stones (pretend precious jewels) and sticks.  Please.

What Facebook doesn't tell you.

School holidays.  Love them or hate them, there is no escaping them.  

Facebook is full of photographs of happy children sporting cheesy grins.  Mothers post their exciting Easter activities as a badge of honour.  "We laid our own eggs, decorated them and hid them all over the globe for a mammoth Easter egg hunt" - We all know those amazing mothers who are organised and motivated.  

And who are so unlike me.

These holidays rushed at me and whacked me in the face before I realised they were here.  Still attempting to process our half term trip to India, I was nowhere near ready to begin making the usual holiday plans.  Feeling fragile and exhausted, I began each day without any motivation to make Easter nest cakes or create an egg hunt.

Of course, we can't put all this on Facebook.  We have to show that we are eggcellent mothers (sorry, couldn't resist) who are over the moon about spending time with their children.  We couldn't possibly confess to not actually wanting to be anywhere near them sometimes, could we?

And so our two weeks passed with three bored, arguing boys and an irritable mother.  I didn't want to play with them.  I didn't want to take them out anywhere.  I couldn't cope with the constant bickering but had no way of stopping it.  Weighted down by the guilty feeling that my children were an inconvenience, I buckled.

I'm not one of those mothers who can post how sad they are about their children returning to school this week.  Honestly?   I cant wait.  I want this failure over and done with.  I want to feel positive about my boys again.  

So, Facebook, let me be honest with you.  Being a mum is hard and exhausting.  We can't always have picture perfect 'Disney style' families.  Sometimes we cry and sometimes we shout.  Does this mean we are bad, incompetent mothers?  Nope, it just means we are real humans and we don't live in a virtual world.  

Tonight, I'm grateful for mercies which are new every morning, for teachers who work hard and for good friends who see beyond the Facebook posts.  

Friendship Truths

Windswept and sweaty, I had made it to the top of one of the foothills of the Himalayas with my very dear friend, Fay.  But, oh, how I had wished that she wasn't my friend on the climb! 

Watching her striding ahead, resolved to reach the peak no matter what, I struggled to keep up with her.  Frog-marching a breathless, weary and rather unfit 20 year old, I'm pretty sure that if she'd had a whip she would have used it on me.  My one abiding memory of this climb was feeling very angry with my friend for forcing such hardship on me!

And yet, isn't that what friendship is about?  Shouldn't we all be spurring each other on along our life-journeys?

During the last few weeks I have appreciated my friends like never before.  They have encouraged me, prayed for me and spoken harsh truth to me.  And journeying together requires all three. 

Sometimes we need our friends to tell us we're doing great.  For example "You are such a brilliant mum - I love the way you spend time creatively with your kids"  or "Keep being faithful in those small things." (If anyone wants to say those things to me, you are very welcome!)

Sometimes we need our friends to be battling in prayer with us.  I have some friends who  I know will pray for me at the drop of a text.  They are the ones who have my back.

And sometimes our friends need to tell us some home truths.  It's painful and humbling.  And rather than feeling angry and defensive, as I was on this climb, we need to listen and examine ourselves.  Are they right?  What changes can I make so I can continue my journey in a better way? 

I am so grateful for those friends who love me enough to tell me the truth - even when it is so very hard to hear.  Without them, I would continue to blunder along my way and may not reach the peak. 

Thank you, my friends. 

(And my lovely Fay, thank YOU too ;-))

Through Different Eyes

Sometimes other people can say it better than me.  This lady is one of those people.  Watch and let your eyes be opened to the harsh injustice of the world around us. 

And when you can't look away any longer, do something to help stop it.

Pornography - Harmless Fun?

We read about the seven and eight year old girls locked in cages and being raped 20 or more times each day and our hearts weep.  It is inconceivable and horrific that such injustices exist in our world today.  We think of the young girls we know, perhaps our daughters or our sisters, and we shift uncomfortably in our seats.  This has to stop, we think to ourselves.  We might even begin to fundraise for an abolitionist charity or raise awareness about trafficking.

And yet, if we are buying or watching pornography either secretly or publicly, we are feeding the demand for this very industry that causes our hearts to break. 

This beautiful girl we met in Kolkata was around
9 years old and lived on the streets, making her
highly vulnerable to being trafficked.

Harmless?  Just a bit of fun?  Not affecting anyone else?

Now is the time to open your eyes and see the truth.

The truth is that viewing porn creates an addiction which trains your brain to expect more each time.  This distorts the way you think about sex and you begin to crave more violent or explicit experiences. 

Porn creates an ‘on demand’ consumer culture for sex which leads to sexual experiences being bought (and sold) regardless of the consequences.

The word ‘pornography’ comes from two Greek words meaning ‘prostituted woman’ and ‘writings’.  “But I’d never have sex with a prostitute” you protest.  If you’ve viewed porn, you already have.  It’s not glamorous, it’s not normal and it’s not acceptable.

Many women and children are trafficked for the purposes of making pornography.  Next time you click that button, imagine this girl is your sister or your daughter who has been kidnapped, brutally raped, probably drugged and definitely held against her will.  Your raging appetite may be silenced.

In a piece of research done by the WHISPER Oral History Project* 80% of prostitution survivors reported that their customers showed them pornography to illustrate the kinds of sexual acts they wanted for their money.  52% of these women said that their pimps used pornography to teach them what was expected of them.  This report was published 30 years ago before the age of the internet, smartphones and wifi.  How much more is pornography feeding this industry today?

Porn is deceitful, degrading and highly damaging.  So, the next time the lustful thirst for sordid sex comes knocking at your door, think about keeping that door firmly closed.  When your sons are old enough, teach them how to treat women respectfully and expose them to the dangers of porn so the next generation doesn’t sneer at the consequences.

We can do more to abolish trafficking this way than any other. 

It’s in your hands.

 *(A facilitator's guide to Prostitution: a matter of violence against women, 1990, WHISPER - Women Hurt in Systems of Prostitution Engaged in Revolt Minneapolis, MN)

 

 

 

The day I sobbed over a dying worm....

....was the day I realised I couldn't live a normal life anymore.

I'm not even joking.  The injustices I saw on our trip to India scarred my heart so deeply that everything has changed.  The last two weeks have been spent in a blur of spontaneously erupting tears which were sometimes quite embarrassing.  The rawness of the wound meant that it was easily hurt again (even by a dying worm, baking in the sunshine of our garden - it really was that bad).

The pain and frustration is finally beginning to fade in it's intensity (thank goodness - I don't think my sister could cope with another 'Rock Choir' rehearsal where the song is so emotive that I struggle to hold myself together!) and I am beginning to make sense of all I have seen and heard.

William Wilberforce, the slavery abolitionist of the 1800's famously said this: 

"You may choose to look the other way but you can never again say you did not know."

I can't look the other way anymore.  I've seen with my own eyes utterly desperate lives.  I've met the prisoners to a system of evil injustice.  I've watched as a mother washes her children's clothes in a dirty puddle while I sit wearing clothes washed by someone else.  I've chomped my way through delicious mouth-melting chocolate knowing that a young boy has been beaten and taken as a slave to pick the cocoa beans.  I've tucked up my boys into their soft, comfortable beds and kissed the, goodnight knowing that somewhere else under the same stars there are children with no bed, no kiss goodnight and no safety or protection from violence.  I've seen them.  I've met them.  I've loved them.

There's no going back from here now.  

And so over the next few blogs I am going to give you all a view into this world too because I don't want anyone to say they did not know.  

And then you can make your choice as to whether you look away or not.