I’m really looking forward to the holidays. We haven’t got much planned yet but I’m pretty sure it will grow into something special each day. Even if that does mean just staying home, making ginger gems for ourselves and having puppet shows or riding bikes to the park.
The girls and I wrote a list of things that we would like to do – only about 3 of them were costly things – going to the two dollar shop and the dairy! One of the things I’m looking forward to, is not having to get up to get k ready for school. Laying in bed longer, reading a book or just having some extra zzzz’s will be amazing.
This is the last set of holidays before our big OE together. As this approaches there is certainly some excitement for me. I’m also feeling sadly aware that nearly a year has gone by and no major miracle has happened yet for d, that I am aware of. I hate that. I am somewhat mystified by it too, how one can change so radically without consideration for another. Finding compassion for a person who is without kindness is something that is Christ-like. I am stirred and challenged by Jesus and by others in this season, in how to treat one who acts coldly and harsly, to treat as Christ would. I am, even though it’s hard, grateful to wise ones who have spoken kindly to my heart, when it’s been stone-ish.
As humans we are quite mysterious. The transformation that a caterpillar goes through to become an amazing butterfly happens to us all, if we allow it. It is the time that we find hard to accept. I certainly do. I read that the waiting (cocoon time) precedes celebration. I am feeling quite tired again, of the waiting. Funny thing is, the most change seems to happen in the waiting time for a caterpillar in cocoon. Encouraging I guess.
What does this look like, the waiting that is? Sometimes I feel like it’s a picture of me waiting for a cake to cook when I’m supposed to have been out the door 10 minutes earlier and the cake is still doughy in the middle. But how it looks in the every day swing of things, is not me sitting at home twiddling my thumbs. Waiting looks like a road well travelled with a few bumps on the way, where I’m living life, making the most of opportunities, not doing too much extra but focusing on being a good mum and making memories with the girls with the final destination not actually known (very long sentence!). I can do this. I’ve been doing it all year and in writing this down, I’m seeing that I actually can do this.
Some things I’m looking forward too during the cocoon time I’m in: wearing my new slippers in (I love ugg boots, they are the best!), making an orange chocolate cake (with a whole orange, pith and all), having to learn to use the food processor to make that cake, going away with some delicious friends for a wee break in the holidays, taking some more photos ……………….
The road best walked, is one with Him. “He walks with me, he talks with me, along life’s narrow way”. And He asks me to tell Him my story, for Him to hear it from my mouth, even though He knows every part. Thank you God, for being in my story, every step of the way.

Missing

I miss you.
I miss you laughing at my fopars, my childish sillyness.
I miss your touch, your sense of direction, your help with parenting.
I miss doing life with you and the I hate the fear of not being able to do it with you again.
I miss your love of English comedy, your ability to make an evening more fun by suggesting great things to do with our friends.
I feel lonely without you here with me.
I miss the manly help with sorting the fireplace out. I miss you doing the finances.
I miss being a team and I miss encouraging you in your gifting.
I miss the masculine side of our family, the rough and tumble. Mine just doesn’t cut it quite as well with the girls.
We are not the same without you. Your choices are a huge loss to us. I miss you being here with me in this new adventure of our life. I miss your wisdom and I miss playing games of cards.
I miss socialising as a couple. It is not the same.
I miss your prayers, they were good prayers.
Today apparently, you had an operation. I actually missed picking you up from the hospital and helping you with whatever pain you are in.
I miss telling you all the funny things that the girls say. The prayers they pray, the thoughts and feelings they have.
I miss you cooking bangers and mash. I miss you using the bbq.
I miss.

snap mum!

I got L these cute red shoes a few months ago, put them away and then as i was thinking i needed to buy her some new shoes, i remembered these goodies. She was excited. New red shoes. which woman wouldn't be, let alone a 4 year old! "Snap mum" she said. What a cool kid. L wanted me to put mine on straight away so we could match. We have fun wearing our shoes at the same time.
On our car travels today, L told me what she wanted to be (one day!). Her usual answer to this q if asked, is: A baker, a builder and to have a baby. But today without me even asking, she told me she would like to be a coffee maker. I was thrilled. Free help with my addiction one day perhaps. But straight after that, she added "and a show girl". I laughed out loud a lot. I asked her what she meant and she said she wanted to put on shows. Good on her. Princess shows. I knew she would be good at that. "K will have to help me mum. I'll do the coffee in the day and the shows at night!"
I had the girls in bed with me this morning. a lovely early morning visit with tickles and playing "my grandmother went on a holiday and in her suitcase she took ......." I felt it was time to launch in with a helpful comment or two from myself. These comments that i was about to proceed with, had been thoughts that had been tickling their way around my head for a few days. I said "You know this whole thing with daddy not living with us?" silence and eyes starting ..... "well it's not your fault and i wanted to remind you that it wasn't." L broke the starkness with "yeah it's your fault mum". hillarious - not. K said "na it's dad's fault." we then talked about plans - K had come up with this amazing plan of attack - to dress up and several of us (in the mission impossible team) were to knock on the back door and run away and then she would knock on the front door, he would be surprised and we would rush in the back door and tie him up. we'd bring him to where we live now. I love their plan. it cracks me up that they can have 'strategy' for saving our world.
I just ended the fun conversation of our 'surprise attack' with: "that is a great plan". "what else can we do to help daddy, that doesn't involve stealing him?". I simply reminded them about God's plans for our lives and how they are good. I kindly suggested we could pray for him even more, together.
It was a great moment. it soon moved onto - "can we please read the Horse and his boy?"
The picture of coffee and delicious things is some melting moments that i made this week. i'd been so keen to try to make them and i did. Boy they hit the spot.

In my dreams

So I had this dream ……… several actually, about this guy who I hardly know. Similar situation to me. His wife left him. We haven’t talked about it at all, it’s just what I’ve heard. Funny thing is, even though I’ve only talked a few sentences to him, at the various occasions we’ve both been at, I have had him visit my dreams.
Poor guy. In the first dream we were at a party. I said I hadn’t had a ‘pash’ for ages and would he be up for it. He he. Of course the guy was. That’s as far as it went as I woke up. Good thing. Second dream was where I was hanging out more with him watching movies etc at our house. I woke up and was bothered for the whole day about these dreams. I drew tree diagrams in my head of all the reasons that it wouldn’t be a good idea to pursue something with him. But I did keep thinking about it and sometimes it was nice to think about. Anyway after all that, it doesn’t matter particularly who the dream was about, (it could have been anyone representing the ‘male’), I realised it was about how I missed having a male around. I have always missed having my dad around as he died when I was 11. I have loved hugs from older friends who are men, as they kind of represent what my dad would have been/done. So now having lost a 2nd significant male in my life, I’m feeling pretty low about it. I miss the hugs, the touch, the companionship and the intimacy. I am sad. It has freaked me out to realise how vulnerable I am and how I felt such a strong pull to do something that I know is not something I want to do.
This is a significant 2nd loss for me and I am feeling it immensely. I have explained it to God in simple terms, repeating it over and over with tears: I miss not having a dad. I miss not having d. And that’s ok that that is all that comes out. Its’ raw and truthful and there need not be any fancier words.

glorious food ...

I’ve got to the best weight I’ve ever been this year. It was a number that I’d always hoped to be and never dreamed possible I think. The only reason I got there was because of the stress of the trauma in my life but it seemed to be one of the better things that had come from that time. So many positive comments. Feeling better buying a different size. But today I am feeling disappointed as my pants seem tighter and the scales don’t say that magic number. I’ve felt this coming on over the past months and haven’t been able to stop myself eating those extra things I’ve decided I deserve! For some reason, I remember when my dad died (at age 11), my mum would eat packets of biscuits in the evenings (not sure how I even know that) and she preceeded to put on weight. Yikes I’m thinking. My husband hasn’t died, but it feels like he has. And I find myself, by myself in the evenings. And I find myself needing a little something to lift me up. So I abide in those feelings and go for it. People always seem to want to leave me delicious morsels and of course my love of baking has not helped me move away from this unhealthy habit.
This week I’ve walked a lot, in effort to help my mind breathe but also to move my body. Each time I’ve walked it has poured with rain on the way home. Crazy especially pushing my girl who is 4, who puts up with mum’s crazy need for walk. I think I can do something about my eating habits. I’ve decided that I will eat smaller portions – serve myself smaller portions esp at main meals. That is my big epiphany and I haven’t come to a healthy decision re the fattening feasts after the girls have gone to bed. So I guess I felt like I’d arrived this year, when I saw that number on the scales. And now I feel it’s slipping away from me and I have felt quite powerless. Ah what to do. How do I bccome accountable for these eating habits? When you have a friend or husband, you can work on it together. D and I went to weight watchers together to loose 5 0or 10 kg a few years ago. It was a really positive move. What is the real reason I am eating? (that’s what the counsellor would say for sure!). These are some good questions, none of which I’m able to answer whole heartedly yet, but good to get out on the table.
I’m looking forward to tomorrow, a sleep-in while the girls watch a movie, some time at a lovely friends house for lunch and then maybe a bike ride down the road before we settle in for the evening at home. Will sat pm involve me resisting temptation or having another scoopful or 2 of that irresistible cookies and cream flavour in our freezer! Ahhhhhhh.

Walking with someone

Yesterday I walked from my home to the otherside of town, trying to get there in time for an appointment whilst also trying to get some fitness in. When I arrived, proud of myself for making it, the ladies on reception were quite impressed and offered me coffee to recover from my effort (water was what I needed really)! They commented on how relaxing a walk can be, admiring creation etc. I agreed but had also came to realise that it hadn’t been relaxing at all, as I was quite stressed about getting to my appointment on time. I laughed at how it was a chance for me to get exercised and also to have some time for my head to clear, yet how it had counterbalanced due to the face I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it! I read a section from CS Lewis’s ‘the horse and his boy’, where Shasta (the boy) is walking with his horse, after some real tough stuff. He becomes aware, as he is walking along, of a ‘creature’ quietly walking with him. Eventually, when he can ignore it no longer, he talks to this creature. He shares his own woeful story (after the ‘thing’ asks to hear his story’) and finds that through all of the ‘situations’ that nearly took his life, this creature was there with him. Sometimes this creature had even saved his life, though Shasta didn’t recognise that at the time. He ends up commenting on how He was there in the story of his life. It is such a lovely piece of writing, directing our hearts to the fact that God is in every part of our story, yet he still wants to hear how it is from us.
I’ve been back from my retreat experience and sadly been quite busy with ‘stuff’ since then. I laugh in some ways when I think about the retreat. I was the youngest by miles (sort of the only one with full coloured hair) and I was also the only one not to wear any polar fleece. I wanted to giggle out loud at times (when it was not a time to be talking even) so I had to concentrate on behaving myself. At times this is hard for me. Hard to imagine?
I loved some definite things about the retreat: having time with a wonderful lady, older than me, who listened and pointed me to God. That was for an hour each day. Some times I cried and she told me to be comfortable with that and not apologise. She encouraged me to see where God was, in all the parts of my story. I was reminded that God has been with me through out this journey. I discovered some truth about waiting – the picture of a caterpillar transforming into a butterfly. Waiting takes time. Am I ok with waiting? Not really but I’m more OK with it now, seeing that it’s not a bad thing but a vital part of my own transformation. And how to wait? Twiddling my thumbs, finding more things to keep me busy? That doesn’t seem to be the idea. ‘Waiting is the ‘in-between time’. It calls us to be in this moment/season, without leaning so far into the future that we tear our roots from the present.’ TS Elliot wrote “a lifetime burning in every moment”.
What I learned, I painted or wrote down, talked a lot to God about and walked on the beach with coffee.
Sometimes I feel like I am a spider with a big web. It’s so big and intricate with all it’s different parts. It’s confusing sometimes how to know how to process all of the different things I think. But I was reminded that all of the feelings we have are important and getting them down on paper or out of our head, is a good idea. I have heard the phrase ‘you need to process that anger’, or whatever emotion. I just asked a lot while on retreat: ‘but how?’ I feel more equipped to do that now – to write down anything that comes out and to see where God is in it and how he is with me and all my humanity. When sad or bad memories come up, I’m not so afraid of them now. I’m more willing to ask God, ‘what are you wanting me to validate here or show me here? I’m more willing to not push the memory away but to cry or let myself be with it, maybe to forgive or maybe to pray. Maybe to do nothing but be?
I talked with a lovely lady today who said she wasn’t glad she’d been through the ‘rough stuff’ she’d been through but could definitely say she was amazed at the things she’d learned through them. I’m glad to say the process of this stuff has me mystified at times but sensing God more than I have before. I’d rather wear my merino than polar fleece and I can’t wait to be in the ‘butterfly’ part and not feel like a spider!