Laughter IS the best medicine! Trifle bowls and amniotic fluid!

I've just come off the phone from speaking with my friend Sue. She manages to do it every time - makes me laugh from my belly. Our paths and stories have crossed over many years covering births, marriages and deaths - she finds the funny bone in all of them.

Just now she reminded me of the time we were doing a counselling course together and had been paired up to take turns sharing an emotional story. This was all very well but we had been told that on this occasion we weren't to look at each other - we had to share the stories back to back. Being in a room along with 20 + other pairs of trainee counsellors, it was quite a challenge not to be distracted.

One of the most emotionally challenging things I had ever been through was years of infertility and miscarriage so when I was finally in labour with my first daughter, it was a highly emotional experience.  I began telling Sue about the fact I was in the shower and suddenly felt water where there shouldn't have been - 'Sorry', interrupted Sue, 'can you repeat that?'. Being back to back in a room full of talking people was proving difficult! I didn't want to speak too loudly about the fact I thought my waters had broken. I repeated in a slightly louder voice and had her full attention - I explained about the fact that I felt I needed to check and see if it was me leaking or the shower head! I collected some of the fluid to see. Don't ask me why (or how!) but the only thing to hand was a trifle bowl. (As in sherry trifle - the desert ). As I explained this to Sue I felt her shoulders beginning to shake behind me, and then the humour of the situation hit me. 'Have you used the bowl since?' she asked and we both exploded in laughter, consequently unable to take anything else seriously - disrupting the whole counselling session with our irrepressible humour.

Sue is extraordinarily gifted at lightening situations. I'm not sure that she went on to be an official counsellor but in birth, marriage and death - she's good to have around!

PS -  Should you ever come to tea on a summers day and be offered trifle -  I can assure you, as lovely as my trifle bowl is, I haven't used it since!

Our Chinese take away

You can't really blame us. Hubby seems to have been away an awful lot so far this year. It's lonely without him. Our teenage girls do well to manage with both of us traipsing off here and there. A bit of stability is what they need....

So went the reasoning at the beginning of this week when our eldest was pining for a pet once again. What with that and pressure from daughter number two, who has been wanting a new pet since our rabbit passed away,  there was a motherly sense of needing to pacify them both.

We started surfing the web to see if there were any animals available near where we live. In previous conversations with hubby about getting a pet while he was away he had told us that if we ever got a puppy he wouldn't be coming home, so puppies were out of the question. He didn't specifically mentioned kittens, so when we saw the litter of kittens ready to be homed NOW and with only one left, my eldest phoned the contact number and arranged to see it.

The lady explained that she lived above a Chinese take away so when we arrived and couldn't find a doorbell we went around to the kitchen area where a chinese chef was doing lots of chopping. He told us in broken English that there was no one here. Puzzled, we asked again about seeing the kittens from upstairs..... he carried on chopping and ignored us.
By this stage the three of us were a little horrified - firstly at the fact we had pre arranged and had been let down and secondly by the confusion that seemed to surround us being there..... visions of kittens being chopped up and put into foil containers under the guise of chicken came to mind.

We left disappointed, every other possible avenue of getting a pet had also come to a dead end, perhaps we weren't meant to have a kitten after all!

Until...............
the Chinese lady rang back - profusely apologising that she had missed us. My eldest was quite verbal about the fact we had travelled all the way to visit them and what a waste of our time that had been, to which the lady offered to bring the kitten over to see us!

Within seconds of her arriving on the doorstep with the kitten in a pet carrier mewwing away we were smitten. The lady was insistent on showing us photo's of the kittens parentage when all we wanted was for her to let the poor thing our of it's cage.
 'Daddy .... persian, look see' (holding camera and showing photo's) meeeow 
 'yes' (me trying to be patient) meeeow
 'mother cat, she so beautiful' (carrying on scrolling through 30 or so more photo's) meeeow
 'yes' meeeow

Turns out she had 10 cats, 2 of which had a litter to the persian tom cat. I can't begin to imagine what the inside of her flat must have looked like. There was no need to ask the girls if they wanted this kitten. As soon as she escaped her cage she was purring and wanting to make friends. We agreed a price and the kitten was ours.
'What does she eat?'  I managed to ask before the lady left our house.
'Rice.....mixed with a little cat food' was the reply. I should have known.

And so we were left holding our very own small and lost looking kitten. What to call her?
Having suggested a plethora of names between us, when daughter number 2 came up with the final inspired suggestion  we all laughed and it was unanimous. The newest member of the Wilkinson clan is called Noodles.

'Noodles' joins the family

Transitions

Noun

The process or a period of changing from one state or condition to another.

Transitions are a process! Sometimes we have no control over the changes that happen around us. When we are not in control we can find ourselves fearful and resistant to change. Even when we are in control we can still find ourselves in moments of panic and uncertainty at the changes afoot.
 
Anyone who has given birth knows what it is to experience transition. For me it was that critical period of time when nothing seemed to to be happening. I was tired from riding the pain of contractions and all of a sudden there was a lull. Text book stuff! (Though I know not all women experience the same! )
Just when I was about to give birth I actually wanted to go to sleep! Maybe it was the exhaustion of the 9 months preparation, or maybe it was the drugs! Whatever it was, I had a strong urge to press the pause button, stop the world and get off!

Notionally I had accepted that we were going to have a child, we were happy with the transition from a couple of DINKY's (Dual income no kids yet) to being parents. The fact was we soon realised that we were on a roller coaster of change for which we had no control.
No control over the timing or date of birth, no control over the sex of our child, no control over the personality type of the child...... the preferences of our child....... the skills of our child.....and so on.

When we embark on a journey of change we mostly have no idea how things will turn out. The people we are in our teenage years often bear no resemblance to the adults we become. When we transition jobs we can end up being shaped and transformed into totally different people after a period of time. Ultimately it's to do with the way we react to change, whether we can embrace the 'pain' and the unknown that go hand in hand with changes and come out the other side enriched and expanded as people.

I have been working towards transition in my current role as consultant in an innovative company I have contracted to. As much as I love change I have still found myself in an uncomfortable place. There has been a 9 months research period which has involved writing strategic recommendations and now there is a lull whilst the strategy gets approval. At the this stage I have to confess the strong urge to press the pause button. I've worked hard towards strategising for change and now it's about to happen. There's no getting away from it, DELIVERY is imminent!

So my blogger friends I am currently procrastinating, writing a blog about it, distracting myself every which way and trying not to let the fears surface.  Remembering the lull of transition in the birth process I know what comes next. The time to push will come and after that the graft of those first few months of getting used to the new. Watch this space.

A confession!

HONESTLY? It's been the most difficult thing for me to find the bible interesting and relevant! There you go - I confessed. Until five years ago I had been dependant on preachers and teachers to bring the bible alive for me. Throughout my childhood I was blessed that my Dad was a bible teacher and a comedian! He had ways of making 'boring' passages understandable and captured my attention with his stories and manner of communication. Occasionally when I was asked to preach or teach myself, I would pray like mad and frantically study commentaries on relevant passages. Thank God for His great grace and anointings for those times.

Dad passed away almost five years ago now, but before he died he prayed a blessing over me as the eldest child and passed on his 'mantle'.  I'm not entirely sure what 'mantle' I now carry because as he laid hands on my head and prayed the prayer of blessing, his speech was incoherent due to the brain tumour which had affected this part of his brain. It was a powerful moment though which was witnessed by my mum - the Holy Spirit was there and there was a sense of great impartation. I wonder now if something of that 'mantle' involved having a relevant understanding of God's word.

Here's my story if you're inclined to want to know more.
I inherited one of Dad's many bibles and for the first year after he passed on I decided that I really should try reading the bible from start to finish. I had kidded myself that seeing as I had become a Christian at the age of 5 I must surely have read the whole bible a few times by now. I was personally challenged when  a preacher got the congregation to respond by putting up their hands if they had read the bible at least once through. Quite a few of us responded, she then asked us to keep our hands up if we had read it through twice, then three then four times. Most of us sheepishly lowered our hands and by the end only a handful of people remained with their hands up.

I'm dellighted to say that I'm now reading through the book my fifth time and can hardly believe how much it has helped tranform my thinking. I am so excited and inspired by God's word and ways that I want to encourage everyone I can to get into the groove!
One thing is for sure - It will look different for everyone because we're all so unique. We have to find our own authentic way of reading and responding to God's word just as we do our own relationship with the Godhead - Father, son and Holy Spirit.

For me I found a 'read the bible in one or two years' resource really helpful,(referenced below). I quickly sensed how anointed it was as it is designed to lead you to start reading in four different but related places of the bible at the same time! For the first four years I simply started reading the bible in different translations each year to saturate myself in and engage with the story of scripture. Nothing else, no study or commentaries or books to explain, simply a prayer that Jesus would guide me through and bring something to my heart each time I read. My heart response ended up looking like the pictures you see attached - prophetic, dynamic, relevant to every day situations. These have been picked from my personal picture journals where I try to record things that happen on a daily basis so I don't lose track of all the things that go on in a busy family. I began to notice how scripture was influencing how I saw each day. This year I've started to take it a step further and have begun to highlight the verses that stand out from every chapter I read. I've become interested in knowing which verses the Lord uses to speak to me. It's become like another type of journalling. I feel like a toddler just beginning to discover a new world. There is so much to learn and I can't wait to try out other ways and methods of reading. 

Inspired by a friend of mine who has been reading and leaving messages in bibles with her children specifically and prayerfully in mind, I have started to do that for my own children. I was recently told of someone who draws pictures in the bible inspired by what they read. The possible creative responses to the Word are endless.  I think it boils down to us being open and honest, admitting that we daily need help in understanding God's word and allowing the Holy Spirit to partner with us in our own unique responses. The Holy Spirit will be our teacher and guide as we ask Him to lead us. Bible teachers are great but they are no substitute for having our own living relationship with the Holy Spirit who will ultimately guide us into all truth.



Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.



More precious than Gold:

Published by the Lausanne Movement  - the McCheyne reading scheme. Beginning at Genesis (birth of universe), Ezra (rebirth of the nation), Matthew (birth of Christ) and Acts (birth of the body of Christ).

From Bethlehem with love

What a time of year to be in Bethlehem. As I write, every now and again my eye is drawn to catch a glimpse of one of the Hills that can be viewed through my bedroom window. I'm not sure why I was surprised when on the coach journey from Jerusalem, we meandered through hilly and steep streets to reach my destination. I guess I also shouldn't have been surprised by the myriad of Christmas decorations and lights which twinkled at me as I gazed out of the bus. Santa's and bells jollied me along the route and I decided there and then that I quite liked Bethlehem. 

Yesterday I had the adventure of playing lone tourist. I'd already done the 'group following umbrella'  thing in Jerusalem a few years back and had become frustrated at the early morning starts and the continual chivying along to the 'next' thing. It had been informative and it certainly ticked all the boxes in terms of going the places that counted in  the life of Christ. Except, and this is a BIG exception, we didn't do Bethlehem.Which, for a tour entitled 'following in the footsteps of Christ', seemed to me to miss the critical event. His birth! (Although I suppose as a newborn baby he wasn't ACTUALLY walking when he was in Bethlehem so I guess that's OK!!)

I had been given a local map of the area from my guest house manager which he helpfully colour coded by highlighting three walks from my location which would lead down to 'manger square' and the central tourist area. Off I set and was pleased when I managed to arrive at the first junction and could clearly see where I needed to turn left. I soon realised however that the map was not an ACTUAL representation of ALL the roads in the area. Needless to say I got totally lost after the next turn and ended up retracing my steps 20 minutes later to try a different route. Having been here a day now, I can see it's actually clear if you simply follow where the main thrust of people are walking and had I been told that in the first place, instead of being given a map, I might have fared better!

Once in the square I spotted what looked to be a church building and headed towards it. I got distracted by a small door in the side wall, by which a security guard stood. I asked the guard if I could go through, he  seemed friendly enough and nodded so I stooped down to squeeze through the door and step over the threshold. For those who know me, I am what people politely refer to as being height challenged, so you can appreciate that this was a very small doorway. The cavernous shell that opened up was dark and at floor level quite empty. My eyes were drawn to the hanging lanterns which cluttered down in a random fashion from the high wooden rafters. Only one end of the building seemed occupied and that by men in black gowns singing at an altar area. To each side of the altar there appeared to be an ante rooms. The one to the right seemed crowded so I headed left.

I noticed some wide, worn and aged steps leading down further under the altar area and as I peered down it occurred to me that this might be the spot where Jesus was reputedly born. As I stood at the top of the stairs the heat of the mass of bodies and stale air from beneath struck me.  A few people started making their up towards me from beneath and it was then that another thought occurred to me. I was actually about to enter and go down the 'exit and go up' side!  I bided my time until the stairs were free and quickly descended when the bodies lessened. I perched on a small marbled seating area opposite the grotto where the star was, which everyone seemed to be photographing, laying hands on and kissing. 

Slightly stunned to find myself here and so easily, I tried to get in the zone of worshipfulness .Thankfully there was an American group down there whose leader whispered loudly that they should pray and sing a carol before ascending so I joined in the rendition of 'O Come all you Faithful' (much to the consternation of the Muslim group who were at that moment descending on the proper side.) If it wasn't for the fact I was still in shock from finding myself there in the first place, it would have been a moving moment.  

So....I'm now midway through my second full day in Palestine. I have much to share about this. I will make this 'part one' of the story so that I can separately concentrate on sharing about the fact that I'm sensing the significance of Bethlehem as the earth venue for the cataclysmic outworking of the LOVE sent from heaven  in reconciling humanity to God. 

From Bethlehem with love. x   

  

When two tribes meet

As my newly married neice and hubby sat sharing a meal with us earlier this week, we reminisced over their recent wedding and shared some insights.

One observation was the fact was that two very strong families had actually come together for the first time. The path to a successful outcome in terms of relational dynamics was no mean feat. We were aware that both sides of the family had unspoken issues amongst themselves let alone the potential minefield there must have been in their coming together.

It's a credit to all who attended that grace was extended to each other and there was tolerance on all sides. Rifts and offenses were apparently laid aside and people began to speak with relatives they previously hadn't communicated with in years.

The marriage ceremony itself had included the reading of a modern passage from the ancient book.
   Love never gives up.
   Love cares more for others than for self.
   Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
   Love doesn't strut,
   Doesn't have a swelled head,
   Doesn't force itself on others,
   Isn't always "me first,"
   Doesn't fly off the handle,
   Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
   Doesn't revel when others grovel,
   Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
   Puts up with anything,
   Trusts God always,
   Always looks for the best,
   Never looks back,
   But keeps going to the end

The young boy who did the reading confessed later that he had felt tearful as he read. I'd like to think that something of the essence of the truth of love from the good book had permeated the gathering that day and love became unfolded in all our hearts.

It could have gone either way...... with two strong tribes there could have been jealousies, grievances and any number of offenses taken but the power of love conquered and the two tribes gloriously united to celebrate the joining of a young couple in Holy matrimony.

The Glory Place

Our 7 year old foster child popped a question the other month which took me by surprise. He asked what our house was called. He has a strange habit of asking things and articulating thoughts that I have already been having. A secret and deep heart cry of mine has been to have a GLORY home. I had already dreamed of naming our home 'The Glory Place.'

You may wonder why I haven't simply gone ahead and done this already. If truth be known it's been a challenging year for me in terms of being a Glory carrier. I'm a firm believer that followers of Jesus by nature are glory carriers. Since our little lad was placed with us he has challenged every spiritual principle we have lived by thus far.

He had been in care for three months and had already experienced a placement break down due to his anger issues and violent outbursts. From day one it was like having a ticking bomb come into our home. One never knew when he was likely to explode. The unpredictability, destruction and abuse became a daily occurence which challenged our teenage daughters to threaten leaving home. So much for a glory place. We were living in a war zone!

The support we recieved as specialist foster carers to hold onto this type of child was invaluable and certainly saw us through the worst few months of our lives as a family. He came to us carrying  7 years worthy of stored up and unchallenged violence, abuse, confrontation and social and emotional neglect. Exactly the worst case scenario depicted in National newpapers over the last year. Considered a ferrel child, he was actually in need of secure boundaries and unconditional love. But OH!....the cost to us all!

9 months on and we are finally sensing the peace, beginning to breathe again and feel like we are reestablishing our home order. This child has slowly got the message and is responding to the boundaries, loving discipline, follow through on consequences of behavious (both positive and negative!) and we are starting to feel that the war is over. He loves the boundaries and is like a dry and thirsty well when it comes to recieving praise and affirmation .

As I look back over the stormy months when as a family each one of us was battered in some way and emotionally abused, I can see that the GLORY has been there all along. In fact the glory has been  increasing through adversity and challenge. The glory that has been deposited, that we draw from and for which we daily crave has left our home more of a glory place than I guess it would ever have been if we hadn't opened our arms to this lost and written off child.