With the Lord's Help, We Will...

Sunday past was an extra special one in our family. We stood before our family, our friends, our church family and God, and covenanted to parent our son, Jonas, in a way that will point him to Jesus. We don't baptise children in our church... our conviction being that the decision to follow Jesus will be one which Jonas will make for himself when he is old enough to understand. In the meantime, however, Dave and I, as christians, made vows to do all we could to teach him the Scriptures and model to him what it means to be a follower of Jesus.

It's a responsibility we don't take lightly... parenting is hard - its a wonderful adventure, full of joy-filled moments and tear-your-hair-out moments, and its full of self-questioning, guilt-filled thoughts and constant analysis... but the gospel of Jesus gives us grace to make mistakes. It allows us to mess up and repent, and know that ultimately our children's spiritual welfare is not in our hands. It is between them and God - and we, as parents, will seek to encourage but not enforce... tease out questions, seek to give wise counsel and model in front of them what a life lived seeking to be a follower of Christ looks like.

It's big stuff.

We have done the same for the girls (you can read about Ava's dedication here, and Heidi's here) and four years into this parenting journey, as I have stood up the front and made my promises, the responsibility of them has felt more weighty with each child. Because no longer is christian parenting a pie in the sky dream that I aspire to... its the everyday reality... amidst the tantrums, the squabbles, the giggles and the good times... and my promises to support Dave in leading our family, to be a godly mother and to create a home which pervades with the sweetness of the gospel feel big. Because too often I want to do things my way, I want my husband and my children to follow my whim... and sometimes our house pervades more with angry frustration and eye-rolling than with the gospel.

But then there's grace again. And so I seek, day by day, to fulfil this calling as best I can - to work together with Dave to lead our family, not against him... to model hope, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and self-control to the children, all the while showing them that it is not in my strength... to seek to make our home a place of honesty and integrity where kindness and grace and God's glory in all things are the norm. To pray daily for our children...

It's a big deal. And so the promise we made on Sunday rings true.

With the Lord's help, we will.

When the Washing Up can wait...

I'm a big believer in seasons of life; in the idea that there are stages of life where things adapt and change, when things look a bit different... there have been seasons where the middle of the day has been wiped out by nap time, there have been seasons where I've not been able to go away for weekends, or even days, due to feeding babies, and there are seasons where even getting out of my pyjamas, or having a shower has been an event requiring a plan of military precision.

But I'm also conscious that all too often I have used these "seasons" as an excuse.

Anyone who reads my blog regularly will know I'm a christian. Not in the sense of a church-going, good-deed-doer, socks and sandals type (although I do try and do those things - excepting the socks and sandals!), but in the sense that I am able to have a living, real, genuine relationship with Jesus Christ. Not because I'm super special, or holy, or particularly good, but purely because I realised quite a few years ago that without him I am utterly lost (you can read more about that here...)

But like any relationship, that takes work.

In this particular season, the newborn season, its easy to go days, weeks, or even longer without investing in that relationship... without spending time with God. That may sound weird and spiritualistic, but its genuinely not. Spending daily time with God involves reading His words (the Bible), talking to Him (praying), sharing my heart, my worries, my hopes and cares...

When I picked up my Bible last week, I realised it had been a very long time since I had sat down and spent time in the quiet: just reading, pondering, reflecting, journalling.

I had had excuses... three children 3 and under, a newborn, up in the night, waking early, no space during the day to stop without a small person around me until 7.30pm, then the busyness of housework and get-togethers. If anyone could claim to have an excuse, then surely me?

But as I thought about it, I realised that it wasn't true to say I have had no space in my day... my Instagram and Facebook will account for that. My blog, the outcome of hours of work writing and taking photographs, tells the story that there is space in my day for what I prioritise.

Somewhere along the line, time with God had dropped down the priority list.

So on Thursday, when Ava had gone off to school, my Mum had taken Heidi out for the morning, and I had put Jonas down for his nap, I sat down at the kitchen table and breathed. Space. Real space.

Across in the kitchen sink was a pile of dishes, soaking in hot bubbly suds and calling to be washed. In the lounge, a Disney Princess puzzle lay half-strewn across the floor. Upstairs in the wash basket was a load of clothes ready for a trip to the washing machine. I readied myself for action, and then I paused.

As a Mum of three youngsters, the work is never done... there will always be more to do...

I had the opportunity here and now... in this space to let the dishes soak a little longer, the puzzle stay out until little hands returned to play with it again, and a load of washing that wouldn't be harmed by waiting 20 minutes...

And so I got up, pulled out my Bible and read. And prayed. And spent time doing what I always love to do, never regret doing, and yet so often put off...

And I realised... whatever the season... the washing up can wait.

For our baby...

Time drags on, while we sit and wait

Little girls asking why you are so late,

Trying to keep busy, while the hours away

Wondering every morning if today will be the day...

Waiting isn't easy, it takes a lot to trust

That God knows the best way much better than us

We want the control, want to know that all's OK

But waiting makes us lean on Him more and more each day...

So little baby - we long for you to come

But as we while the time away, we're trusting in the One

Who knows every day you'll live before you're even here

Who'll help us to be patient - not to worry - not to fear...

We can't wait to meet you little one

Mama xx

Copyright: Clarina's Contemplations. 10/06/15.

The One O'Clock Miracle

One of the perks of writing a blog, is that occasionally you land a little opportunity to review an absolute gem of a book.

This was one of those times.

Of all the books we've ever reviewed, I think this is one of my favourites. It's a creative re-telling of Jesus' healing of the little boy in John 4:46-54 and has throughout it the running refrain...

"He walked and walked - and sometimes ran - because he wanted to see Jesus"
 

Packed full of gorgeous illustrations, Mitchell and Echeverri have worked hard to paint the story vividly, while keeping faithful to the "true story about trusting the words of Jesus." They have thought carefully about how to portray the key truths of the story to small children, and both the girls sat and listened intently and pointed out things they noticed along the way (this is a big deal for Heidi... at two, keeping her attention for a whole story is an achievement!) I'm pretty sure this book will be one we pull out again and again... and again!

The book is the latest in The Good Book Company's "Tales that Tell the Truth" series and is definitely my favourite. At the end, the book shows where the story can be found in the Bible, and explains that Jesus' miracles were signposts to point to who Jesus is in a clear, concise and compelling way.

You can buy a copy of "The One O'Clock Miracle" directly from The Good Book Company website for the currently discounted price of £7.64, and it would make a fabulous gift for any 2-6-year-olds you know!!

In the meantime, I think I'll go read it with my girlies again...

Disclosure: We were sent a copy of "The One O'Clock Miracle" for the purposes of this review. We received no further incentive and all thoughts and opinions are our own.

When His way isn't my way....

It's been a journey this weekend. A journey of moving from the gut-wrenching disappointment of Thursday, through the disbelief, through the sadness about leaving our lovely friends, through the questions and the uncertainties.

It's only a School placement. But somehow its knocked me for six.

This wasn't the plan God. When I said I wanted you to have your way... what I really meant was "Can your way be my way please?"

And so it's meant a lot of soul-searching... a lot of questioning... and as always, the Lord has shown that his ways are not my ways, but that he has a bigger plan and a bigger purpose and is "bringing all things together for the good of those who love him"

On Friday morning, when I woke up, I was overwhelmed by a sense of fear and frustration... anger at the unfairness of it all... and just sadness. Sadness that Ava would have to leave her little posse of school friends, sadness that I will have to leave a lovely group of Mums at the school gate who have become real friends these past 8 months. And somehow pouring all that pent-up emotion out on the blog helped. And then I spent a long time pouring it all out at God. There are perks to waking up at 4.30am...

Could this really be God's plan?

And then things started happening. Too many coincidences. Too many little snippets of information filing through that slowly awoke me to the fact that perhaps God was moving a lot more pawns on his giant chess board than just ours.

That perhaps Ava being placed in this school was all part of his masterplan; that perhaps this school where I didn't want to be is exactly the place where He wants us to be.

And then I got a lovely message from one of my friends on the school gate... reading it broke my heart because I realised again how much I will miss that place, but also made me laugh out loud. She wrote "I too believe that nothing happens accidentally. A bit of me feels that although you didn't pray for the choice you were given... perhaps they were praying for you?"

OK God... I get the picture.

And then Sunday happened. And as I sat in church, it was as though our Pastor was talking straight at us...

"Has there been a time this week you have resented a situation you have been placed in, that it seems has worked out for everyone else?" Hmmm... try being the only member of the class to not get in?

"Has God answered a prayer you prayed, and yet you haven't thanked him because you didn't like the answer?" How about... God, please let Ava get in to the school that you can best use us as a family... oh no, wait God... that wasn't quite what I had in mind when I prayer that prayer...

"This week, you may be faced with a choice... and you know what he wants you to do... will you choose his way? The way of wisdom? The way of blessing? Or will you choose your own path and follow what YOU want for your life?"

Oh man. I sat in stunned silence afterwards...

We spoke a little later. We have decided not to appeal. There have been too many little "coincidences" this weekend, many of which I cannot specifically state on the blog, but which have left me in no doubt that this is, it seems, exactly what God has planned for us.

And slowly, gradually, I'm starting to feel a little bit excited about that.

Because amidst the fear of starting all over again, the sadness at leaving precious friends, the uncertainty of what the future holds, there is peace and certainty in one thing.

We serve a God who is faithful, holds all this in his hands, and has called us, and our little Ava to this particular school.

So however scary it feels, I can say with increasing trust, there is no other school we would rather be in.

Because bang in the middle of God's will? That's right where we want to be...

Thank you again to all of you who have been so unbelievably supportive this weekend.... thank you for your comments, messages, texts, virtual hugs and general well-wishes. We thank God for each and every one of you.

We're off to Wales...

... with 50 others from church, where we'll join a couple of thousand others! We're excited to learn lots, have tonnes of fun and soak in the beautiful welsh coast (as long as we're not washed out by the promised hideous weather!)

This is our 12th consecutive "Word Alive" and I'm no less enthusiastic than I was as an 18-year-old first year at university. This week leaves me feeling refreshed every year. It's where I've had some of my most broken moments, asked some of the biggest questions in my faith, its where I've had those deep in the night meaningful conversations, its where Dave and my romance began, its where we served on youth team for five years before bringing our own little people.

You can read why I can't wait for Word Alive every year here.

It is a precious week in our yearly calendar. And I'm so excited to be heading back there today!

My 21 year old self at Word Alive  back in 2007...

Everything a Child Should Know...

We are always huge fans of discovering and reviewing new books, and one of the things I am constantly on the look-out for are really good, rich, gospel-centred, accessible children's books.

Which is why I was totally over-the-moon excited when the Good Book Company asked us to review one of the newest children's books they are stocking called "Everything a Child Should Know About God" by Kenneth N. Taylor.

"Everything a Child Should Know About God" is literally bible doctrine for children. Presented in a clear, concise and accessible way, the book's purpose is to teach children key doctrines about the character of God through a short explanations accompanied by fun and eye-catching illustrations. The book is laid out like a devotional; one double spread page per day - one side contains a short explanation (accessible for children as little as 16 months - Heidi will testify to that) and a simple question, and the other side containing a beautiful illustration.

On the day we received the book, we opened it at the table after dinner to read one "devotional" and ended up reading nine. I know that's not the idea, but Ava (our 2 year old) was absolutely loving it, and didn't want to stop reading. Since then, we have been opening up this book after dinner and it has led to the deepest spiritual conversations we have had yet... we had a great conversation the other night about how we both make mistakes, and like to have things our own way, but how God is perfect and holy and doesn't make mistakes... right off the back of this book. Great conversations to be having with your two-year-old!

Themes covered in the book include; "We read the Bible to learn about God", "God knows Everything", "God is One", "We All have Sin in our Hearts", "Jesus is God's Son", "The Holy Spirit Helps Us" and "What is the Church?" amongst many, many others!

Before I fill you in on the details, I can honestly say this is one of the best books we have come across for toddlers and young children (recommended up to age 8)... both from our perspective, and from Ava's too, who has literally lapped it up... and before you go any further, I can genuinely, genuinely say I highly recommend it and I am already set to grab a copy for my goddaughter!

You can click here and order your copy right now!

Wouldn't it just make a fabulous birth/christening/dedication/birthday/just-because present for a little person in your life?!

Here are the details!

Title: Everything a Child Should Know About God
Author: Kenneth N. Taylor
Price: £9.99 (although there's a deal at Good Book Company at the mo for £7.49!)
Publisher:10 Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-909611-62-7
Format: Hardback

Disclosure: We were given a copy of "Everything a Child Should Know About God" for the purposes of this review. All thoughts and opinions are our own. 

Why toddler tantrums are a GOOD thing...

My big girl was bubbling. I could sense it the moment she came into the room. It would take one tiny flicker of a flame and we would have an almighty explosion on our hands. Something was off and I would have to watch every base in order to prevent the inevitable.

I can't even remember what the flicker was in the end. I think she bundled her baby sister for the 5th time that day, and I had to follow through. My years of teaching in the Primary Education system had taught me that follow through was a must. I had warned her twice. She had done it again.

To the stairs she must go.

She screamed and cried. Kicked and shoved. Did that dead weight thing that toddlers are so very good at doing. Screeched and shouted. Stamped and flapped. You name it.

I tried reason...
"Calm down and I'll come and talk to you"
"Once you're quiet, we can have a conversation"
"Stay on the step and then we can chat"

It failed. And failed. And failed again.

My boiling point rose. I knew I needed to get out of there.

So I left her screeching and crying, stamping and pounding and throwing herself on the floor while I returned to the kitchen, took a deep breath and shot up an arrow prayer...

"Lord, help me"

And suddenly I remembered what we'd been talking about the Sunday before... that our children's misbehaviour, their tantrums, their disobedience... all the things that drive us mad, are the very things we should be grateful for.

They are training ground.

When my girl throws a tantrum she is learning. She is learning that she cannot control her temper. She is learning that she gets angry. She's learning that she always wants her own way... She is learning that she can't always have her own way. And she doesn't like how that feels...

And in the quiet discussion afterwards, through half-gulped sobs, she tells me that she doesn't know why she did what she did. She just wanted to... even though she knew it was not kind.

And then you see the penny drop. At 2 and a half, she is recognising that she is a sinner. And when she's in that place of raging at the world, just like when I'm in that place, she's realising that she needs help to get out.

She can't do it on her own. Neither of us can.

And so, an opportunity to share grace, to show mercy, to extend love.

An opportunity to point to the Saviour.

Our children desperately need to disobey, need to have tantrums, need to be selfish.

Because otherwise they'll walk this life thinking they've got it sorted. Thinking they are better than everyone else. Thinking that if they do the right thing externally, then that is all that matters.

They won't realise they desperately need a Saviour.

So next time I find myself shooting arrow prayers up in the kitchen, I'm going make sure one of them is thanking God for the opportunity of this training ground, hard as it sometimes feels...

This ones not quite at the tantrum stage yet! But she can certainly turn on the tears!

Joy! Joy! Joy!

"Maybe happiness is just something we can pursue and never really have"

The Pursuit of Happiness

Happiness. Its a funny old word. We all feel it from time to time. Some periods of life, it can even be the default position. I feel happy when I check on my girlies every night while they sleep. I feel happy when I wake up and the sun is shining. I feel happy on days where I get my little family all to myself. 

But to HAVE happiness? Is that even possible?

To be happy when your world is rocked and your nine week old baby is attacked by a disease that destroys her perfect little arteries? To be happy when you watch loved ones suffering? To be happy when you lose someone so very important to you?

Happiness is not possible then.

And yet, as I sat in Housegroup last week, and chatted to a girl whose family have been through immense loss and sadness over the last three years, we talked about how through those awful dark days we knew a deep seated joy that made no sense at all. I remember sitting in hospital, agonizing over our baby girl, and yet many times being overwhelmed with such a sense of thankfulness. You see, joy goes under the happiness. It is not fleeting. It is a foundation under which all other emotions are pinned.

That joy is in Jesus.

I know many of you who read this blog would not call yourselves Christians, I know many of you would say you do not have a faith of any description... but sometimes I just can't help talking about it.

You see, many people have asked in the months following Heidi's diagnosis how we coped. I can honestly say we didn't... we cried many, many tears... I asked God countless questions... I kicked and screamed at him metaphorically many times... I doubted and queried and questioned.

And yet, those bubbling thankfulness moments of gratefulness to God continued to come. In the dark hours of the night where the only sound was the beep of Heidi's medical infusions; where the only noise was the quiet whispers of nurses as they checked her temperature every three hours throughout the night. I didn't build it up. I didn't create it... psych myself into it. I was too broken, confused and hurting to do that.

But in the Bible, God promises us his joy if we put our trust in him. It goes against all expectations, it doesn't fit the circumstances. It is inexplainable.

Happiness is fleeting. It will come and it will go... it is utterly dependent on our circumstances...

But joy? It can stay... it can carry you through the deepest, darkest pit... it can hold you steady through the stormiest seas... It's found by taking refuge in Jesus...

But let all who take refuge in you rejoice;
    let them ever sing for joy,
and spread your protection over them,
    that those who love your name may exult in you.

- Psalm 5:11 -

Inspiring?

Inspirational people are people who achieve amazing things... Go after their dream and pursue it without looking back. They are strong, they are independent, they are go-getters. They are always positive and always optimistic.

Well, that's what the world would have you think, anyway.

And that's why I nearly fell off my chair when I got the email on Wednesday, telling me this little blog has been shortlisted as "inspiring" for the Brilliance in Blogging awards.

Because I'm not the person I described above.

I'm your bog-standard, run-of-the-mill girl, figuring out this parenting thing as I go along. And when life got tough this past year? When life continues to be tough with a baby with health issues? I'm not strong... I have swung between feeling sick with fear and snatching glimmers of hope; doubting, and trusting; crying and clinging. I've not been inspiring. I continue to ask those big questions: Why us? Why our baby? Will God ever bring healing? Can I trust Him to take care of our little one? And I continue to wish those "If onlys..."

Because as the month of May closes in around us again, it's all brought back with horrifying recollection. One year since it all began. I haven't forgotten a single moment of that awful time... I know I never will. Sometimes I still lie in bed at night and shudder at the memory of last May and June. And the bleak July days too when we first came home. When the sun scorched down on us, but joy was far from my heart. When I woke up every morning, gazed over at my beautiful baby asleep in her Moses basket, and felt my heart sink.

You see, I don't feel inspirational because I didn't choose this path... And if I'm honest, though I utterly trust God's goodness and sovereignty, I know I still wouldn't choose this path for our baby girl if I could go back and do it all again. Maybe when I'm the other side of heaven, I'll finally see it all clearly.

This journey is one we've been thrown on... And we've ridden the ride. Clutching on for dear life. Clinging to the one who is our inspiration. The one who has been my rock through all of this.

He's the inspiration, not me.

My Jesus. My Saviour. My rock and my refuge.

My shelter in the storms.

He is.

I'm just your bog-standard, run-of-the-mill girl, figuring out life in Him.

And the more I got to thinking, the more I realised that perhaps that's what people are hungry for.

Bog standard. Run of the mill. Figuring things out as we go along. Clinging to the Saviour when life gets messy. When things unravel. When all your hopes and comforts and life as you knew it, get thrown away in a ten minute Echo scan on Rose Ward at the Royal Brompton Hospital.

Because that's real life.

And sometimes we do get hit by the truck of tragedy, of heartache...

And how on earth are you supposed to carry on?

Well. That's what this blog is. It's an honest account of life unravelled. An honest account of the beautiful peaks, and the despairing depths.

And if you've found that inspiring... More importantly, if you've found Him inspiring, then thank you for nominating this little space on the web. I'm honoured, humbled and grateful. Truly. From the bottom of my heart.

So if you'd like to vote for the blog to get to the finalist stage - the final six - then please click on the link below, and tick the box for "Clarina's Contemplations" under the Inspire category.

Your support and encouragement is so appreciated.

Soli Deo Gloria.

Watch out Wales... Here we come!

Photo Courtesy of "Word Alive Event"

The much awaited time has come. This morning, as you read this, we will be travelling up to Wales for "Word Alive" - one of the highlights of our year. Accompanied by 76 others from our church, we are looking forward to joining a couple of thousand others for a fantastic week of great Bible-teaching, beautiful seaside walks and time with family and friends. Over the years, this conference week has come to mean so much. It's the conference Dave and I realised how we felt about each other, it's the conference we served on the youth team for for 5 years, it's the conference we took our 5 week old baby to last year before the nightmare of the following few weeks set it.

It is a conference I have been broken at, overjoyed at, hopeful at... Every range of emotions.

Why?

Because every year I come home challenged and changed by the Gospel.

The beautiful truth that the Saviour loved me enough to die for me... Broken, messed up, reckless little me... free grace for me... at a huge cost to Him.

A beautiful, raw, incredible truth. And soaking myself in it for 6 days refreshes it all anew.

So join us for the ride! These next few days I will be posting pictures of what we get up to...

Check in and take a look!

Every Moment...

Make every moment a cathedral giving glory

- Ann Voskamp -

Truth. In a sentence. 

That every precious moment, every mundane task, every ordinary decision, every repetitive activity... All moments are opportunities.

 
Opportunities to complain. To moan. To take for granted. To feel like I'm not being challenged or stretched intellectually. To feel like all I do goes unseen.

Or to give glory. To recognise that these moments are beautiful; they are an honour, a privilege and an opportunity to be thankful.

Thankfulness is balm to a hurting soul. I have found that to be so very true this year.

Thankful in the good times...

And in the hard times...

That in each season and stage... there is always beauty to be found. In every moment.

An opportunity to give thanks to my heavenly Father.

And make every moment a cathedral giving glory...

"Give thanks to the Lord, call on His name; make known among the nations what he has done, and proclaim that his name is exalted"

- Isaiah 12:4. The Bible -

Golden Days...

I keep doing it, and I can't seem to help it.

In the golden sunshine there's a deep sense of foreboding. These golden days. They take me back to the golden days of last spring. With two healthy, happy little girls... a life that was overflowing... a life that was blissfully happy... and hurtling headlong into a nightmare.

I lay in bed with Ava yesterday. Stroking that golden hair while she fell off to sleep and feeling sick in the pit of my stomach at the memories.

We had no idea.

And I begin to wonder how I can ever be blissfully happy again when there is always that nagging doubt, that underlying fear that perhaps there is a dark cloud heading for us again. And we don't even know.

Just like we didn't know. This time last year.

And I realise then, that I could be eaten up by this. Destroyed. From the inside out. Eaten up by the memories of the anguish and heartache. The shock. The unbelievable shock. And the uncertainty and doubt... and the questions that still hang over our Heidi... it could devour me.

But it won't.

Not because I have this amazing super-strength. Not because I'm a "inspiring person" and somehow won't ask the questions that everyone asks when their child has a life-threatening illness. Not because my faith is water-tight and unquestioning.

But because the Saviour was underneath us in the pit. He went lower. He held us there. And I know now, if he can hold me there? He can hold me anywhere.

And that's why, when the memories flood back, when the foreboding sets in... I can chase it away. I can defeat it. Because I don't know what tomorrow holds...

But I do know who holds tomorrow.

These golden days. I'm going to cherish them.

Because they are beautiful... and what is a life, if always lived in fear?

²⁵ “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? ²⁶ Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?

- Matthew 6:25-26 -

Something to sing about...

I love to sing. Always have, and I'm pretty sure I always will. From a very young age I loved to perform at family get-togethers, I sang in school assemblies and school choirs. I sang while doing the washing up, and in my bedroom with my CD-player maxed out (yes those were the days before the Apple monopoly!) My Mum always commented that the house was much quieter when I wasn't around. I just loved to sing.

Around the age of eighteen, I started to sing at worship events. Initially on a youth conference, then at the kids praise at my university church, and for the last few years at my home church. David and I have been privileged to lead the worship at our church for the last 5 years and I can honestly say it is such an honour and joy to me.

I get to sing about the best news in the world, to the one who made me, loves me beyond anything I could ever deserve, and delights in hearing my feeble attempts at giving him glory!

These next three weeks are busy for us... We are leading worship at a women's conference on Saturday (and leaving the girls overnight with their grandparents for the first time... Eek!), then leading at a youth event the following week, and then leading a prayer and praise night at church the following Saturday. Of course, mixed into all that are regular Sunday services. 

Busy, busy, busy.

But as we met together as a band last night, and just had so much fun jamming, rehearsing and singing praises to our Saviour, I was reminded of a song from my uni days. It's easy to get sucked into the joy of making music (we are so blessed to have some truly incredible musicians) and lose sight of the purpose of it all.

So as we head into three weeks of rehearsing, planning, practicing and organising, here's what I'm dwelling on...

Oh, and if you are part of our church, stick March 29th in your diary! 

Dear Heidi... You are One!

My baby girl...

You are one!

One!

How quickly this year has gone by... how high we have flown on joy, and how low we have delved into the pit, scrabbling for any scrap of hope. Your little one year journey through life has taught me more about the Saviour, about myself, about your amazing Papa, about your strong big sister, about our wonderful family and friends than anything I have ever experienced before.

And this year I have loved getting to know you, little Heidi. So contented. So strong. So happy and cheery. You have wooed every Doctor, Nurse, Play Specialist, Cardiologist and Sonographer. Sometimes I wonder if you are so relaxed because of everything you've had to go through, or if everything you have gone through has made you this way.

Either way. You are precious, beautiful, sweet-natured, determined and our little comedian. Already you put us all in stitches with your funny faces and your choice of first words.

I mean, what child has the word "Rottenmeier"** as one of their first words?? (Pronounced by Heidi "Rottenmah!")

(Too much of your Heidi - book!)

You are saying a  few words now -  Mama, Papa, Ava, Wow, Hase (Bunny) and your continued favourite - "Aaaa-men!". I love coming into your room when you wake up - bleary eyed and rosie-cheeked. You look at me and point forlornly at your bunny (who you have always thrown out of your cot) and say "Hase!" You will not be distracted until I have placed your beloved bunny back in your hands!

One of my favourite things to watch this past year, has been the development of your relationship with your big sister. She adores you, and you her. It warms my heart so much to see you playing together, or chuckling over something "funny"... yes, at times she is a little heavy-handed, but you are so patient and relaxed and just take it all in your stride.

I have loved becoming a Mama to two. This time last year, you were preparing to make your way into the world (you were born in the evening)... and I wondered, if I'm honest, how I could ever love anyone as much as I did your big sister... but do you know what? The moment I saw those chubby little cheeks (yes, you were a full 8lbs 8ozs) and that black tufty hair, my heart was totally yours. Somehow I love you as intensely as your sister without taking any love away from her... a mystery... but a wonderful one.

I am thankful to God every day for the precious gift that you are to us... I am thankful for all that you have taught me, I am thankful you are still here - so full of life, so effervescent, so sparky and funny. And I shudder at what we could have lost, and remember again that life is fragile, and that each day for any of us is a gift.

And so the Lord has been teaching me a life lesson through you, little Heidi. To treasure the little, the everyday, the ordinary. Because those things are the building blocks of a life... they are the little things that make up the daily, the little things we will look back and treasure. The "nothing" moments that together make up the "everything"

The everything. That's what I want you to know.

Because really the "everything" is not a thing; its a person. He's a person. A person who, though I cannot get my head around it, loves you more intensely, more deeply, more perfectly than I do, or ever could. He gave everything up to give you a new heart... a not broken, damaged, inflamed-arteried heart, but a perfect heart that is soft to him, and is full of Jesus. I so long for you to know that, have that.

So as we mark your first birthday, little H, we thank the Father for every day with you, our beautiful baby girl, and thank him for his everylasting faithfulness.

Wir haben dich so lieb, unser Schnucks!

Mama und Papa xxx

** Fraulein Rottenmeier is the horrible Housekeeper in Johanna Spyri's "Heidi"... yesterday I was asking the girls which episode of Heidi they would like to watch... Ava answered the one with Fraulein Rottenmeier, at which point Heidi proceeded, like a parrot, to say "Rottenmah" on repeat about 8 times!)

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Thoughts on Puddle-jumping...

Puddle-jumping. Its a skill I've tried to get good at this past year. In all the storms and the dark days, to find the little puddles of hope... those puddles that bring joy when it seems like the rain is never ending...

A reminder of a promise.

Last week we went for a walk with our lovely friends. It was a brief break in the downpour that has consumed the last two months. We headed to the park; the kids geared up in rain trousers, wellies and waterproofs and excited at every muddy track, and puddle-pool. Thrilled that their Mamas were letting them jump and run and get themselves covered in a rainy-day concoction of mud and water.

The sun shone through the grey clouds and we soaked in the sunshine, relaxing and chatting and savouring the opportunity to get outside. These past couple of months have been challenging with little ones... the rain is one thing, but the gale-force winds, and the risk of cold for a little girl who can't afford to get ill, has kept us a little more housebound than I would have liked.

That evening I got to thinking about how precious puddles are - pure fun, reckless abandon, hope, joy... a symbol of the calm after the storm - those still pools that slowly but surely dry up, as the sun pours down on them...

And about how those still-standing puddles, inviting little feet to fill them with ripples, are often accompanied by that beautiful symbol of hope - the rainbow. A symbol of God's faithfulness through the storm, his promise of rescue, his sovereignty and a reminder that nothing is out of his control.

Oh, how I have needed that this past year.

For now, we look forward with hope. Spring is coming. Slowly but surely, those puddle-pools will dry up and begin their cycle all over again... somewhere else, this time.

And in all the seasons, the hope remains...

God is faithful.

Because of the Lord's great love, we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness

- Lamentations 3:21-23 -

Back to the Brompton...

The Lord's my Shepherd, I'll not want...

He makes me lie in pastures green

He leads me by the still, still waters

His goodness restores my soul

And I will trust in You alone

And I will trust in You alone

For Your endless mercies follow me

Your goodness will lead me home.

Our appointment is at 1.45pm

We appreciate every prayer for our darling girl.

Gearing up...

Excitement and dread, hope and fear, eager and yet anxious... the rollercoaster of emotions I feel when thinking about the appointment we have with this little lady tomorrow...

Yes, tomorrow is the day we return to the Brompton. Our Heidi will have her first Echo in 6 months... the last one being in July, just a few short weeks after Kawasaki Disease attacked her tiny body, wreaking havoc on her coronary arteries. Back then, her body was in remission, her little antibodies fighting, drugs working, miracles happening...

But now time has passed. The initial "healing" will have slowed down and we will discover the real, the long-term, the permanent effects of her KD. There is a hope; a small glimmer that we will hear the wonderful words we long to hear.

But right now I need to be realistic.

Hope can be your best friend, but crushed hope? That can destroy you...

And so we don't place our hope in a healed artery... though we long for that so very much. Instead we place our hope in the one who can't be crushed, but who has crushed death and the devastating diseases of a broken world once and for all.

He has the power to make our baby girl well. I believe that with all my heart. And He is GOOD. But he also holds the big picture and so we go, trembling, but knowing that whatever the outcome, we can trust him.

Please will you pray for us these next 48 hours - pray for healing for Heidi, pray for strength and trust for David and I whatever we discover, and pray that little H won't be too distressed for the Echo itself; requiring a 4 month old to lie happily on her back for a 20 minute heart scan was one thing, this time they have a 10 month old baby to reckon with...

Thank you so very, very much for all of your support and prayers. We are so grateful for each one of you who have taken our baby girl, and her little damaged heart, into your own hearts.

God is good. We go in his strength, his grace, his sovereignty. I do not know what I would do without him.

Mama-watching...

On Sunday morning I sat down at the dining table armed with my essentials... Heidi was down for her nap, Ava was contentedly playing with her puzzles and I knew I had a twenty minute window to spend some much needed time with the Lord. Weekends are always trickier I find... The routine is out the window and the days fly by... there is no opportunity to find a quiet space, and so I must make do with a little company.

So I sat down and began to read. Right now, I'm working through John Stott's "Through the Bible, Through the Year" and enjoying the structure of following a book. In the madness of life with two small children, structure is good. The opportunity to see the big picture of the Bible... how it all fits together... how it all points to Jesus.

Within seconds of sitting down, I became conscious of a little person setting herself down on her chair beside me, and whipping out a similar book. She flicked through the pages and rested on one of her favourite Bible stories.

I smiled to myself and continued reading. I took a sip from my tea... she reached down, lifted an invisible cup and quietly made a sipping sound. I looked across. Her eyes were down on the book. She was not attention seeking... she was simply copying! I ran my finger across the page... she ran her little index finger across the line of black letters she is still unable to read. Eyes still down. She was totally unaware I was watching her.

As I sat and read and prayed I began to see that these formative years are so precious. Here was my two year old, sitting next to me with her bible open, sipping her "cup of tea" and running her fingers along life-giving words. She is my little mimic, something which horrifies me at times when I see myself reflected; my phrases, my frustrated words and my attitudes. But what an opportunity - to model to her the daily discipline of soaking myself in God's word, sitting at the feet of the Saviour, filling up by Word and Spirit. What an honour, what a joy, what a responsibility... 

And so I was reminded again of the great and joy-filled responsibility of motherhood. To teach my children what is true, what is noble, what is right, what is pure, what is lovely and what is admirable... to point them to Jesus.

And what better place to start than by filling my own mind with these things?

On being a parent...

You are the creator of their childhoods. You are the influencer of their dreams, and tastes and fears. You are the emcee of all reality, the one to introduce you children to the true personality of their maker, as imaged by your life more than your words. The choices you now make have lives riding on them. ALWAYS.
- N.D.Wilson -

Wow. What a calling! I thank God for grace!

This week I've been thinking a lot about my parenting. It's amazing how you can swan along, not thinking much at all when things are going well, and then suddenly you hit a few bumps in the road and you start to question EVERYTHING you do.

At the moment, our 2-year-old is being a 2-year-old. She's an adorable, loving, bubbly, music-box, non-stop talker and I love her to pieces. But she's also enjoying challenging our boundaries.

I tell you what, this 2-year-old has made me have more of those "I feel out of control" moments than my classes of 30 Year 6 children ever did!

So I'm brewing over the quote above and remembering that every little piece of training we do now, every time we discipline, every piece of praise we give, every snappy word and sharp response is shaping this little person. And everything I do is modeling to her. I can teach her the Gospel in what I say... but ultimately, its the way I live that will tell her the real story. She's watching; always watching. And soaking, and learning, and copying.

Boy, this motherhood thing is a hefty responsibility.

But, oh! What a gift!