Tuesdays Unwrapped #1

Tuesday is our busiest day. Swimming lessons, kindergarten pick ups and drop off's repeated twice more than usual. With December comes Christmas parties and shared lunches, and so my baby and my little three year old man had a more exciting day than usual yesterday.

I love to watch him. In the pool, unsure about being there without mum to cling to - his first time alone with just the other kids. He was so calm, standing next to another little buddy the same age and size as him. His buddy slapped his flutterboard and made a splash, my boy did the same. His buddy behaved well, my boy did the same - thank the Lord. 
And can I mention the utter JOY that appears on the face of a three year old boy when offered a lollipop at the end? Is there anything in life as an adult which gives us the same spontaneous delight? May we be granted more of those moments, may we be awake and alive to see them.

At the party it was all balls, running, more balls - no stopping for food, not for me thanks Mum. I'm far too busy having the time of my life. So I sat with his baby sister, playing with the puppets and making her laugh and laugh.
Oh my heart, baby giggles, have mercy.

As we get in the car he says "That was fun, mum!" The second time in two days. (the first time was after walking home with him on his bike, a near-death experience I will never, ever repeat!) I love hearing from his pure little rascally heart that he's had a good time. Too often parenting feels like a catalouge of disappointments, a list of things we couldn't do because we were tired, busy, grumpy. I'm thankful for being handed grace this week, in these moments of fun and laughter for my boy.

In the car on the way home his head bobs, bobs, bobs, until he gives in. I carry him, fast asleep, and lay him on the couch. Turn on Playschool for some background white noise. Watch him completely innocent, mouth slightly open, away to dreamland and exhaustion from a busy morning's work and play.

I can't keep up with his energy, his enthusiasm for life - his boundless curiosity and playfulness and outright mischief. He is a gift to me, a funny and loud and dirty ball of endless movement. And I surely do breathe an utterly exhausted sigh of Thank God when he's asleep, finally.

Today I write as part of Emily Freeman's "Tuesdays Unwrapped". In her words, we write about "Anything that causes you to pause and celebrate the moment. Not what will be or what is to come, but what is real and true this day: the messy, the lovely, and the unexpected. Share a photo, a story, or anything that offers a glimpse into your own journey of discovering the gifts in the midst of the ordinary."

Real life is harder than you want it to be

Image Source: Pinterest, taken from Etsy

After last week's parenting post, I spent a lot of time thinking and feeling confused about how on earth to keep writing about this wonderful and incredibly hard thing called being a parent. A friend suggested that perhaps writing in a storytelling style keeps things from sounding braggy or boastful. Which was stressful because I definitely do not want to sound any of those things! And I think she is right, the posts I benefit from the most have been personal stories, admissions of failure, of confusion, of the struggles involved in motherhood. I have actually found the "10 steps to being a better parent" posts hard to swallow, with a very small amount of exceptions.
I struggle with storytelling, because on the one hand it's something I really really want to do. On the other hand, I feel that a lot of my history that informs my life isn't my story to tell. It would be an invasion of other peoples privacy. So how do I tell some of the story, without telling the whole story, while still being authentic. Vulnerability freaks.me.out. Yet I know that it is the path forward for me in a lot of areas of my life. Don't you just love how God does that. Humph.

So this week I'm just going to lay it bare a bit, by saying that good intentions are so often just that: good intentions. We can write lists, make plans, write family purpose statements, have beautiful "We say we're sorry, we hug, we love" artwork on our walls, get up each morning determined to not say one mean thing before breakfast - and how often does it all just go to pieces within a few minutes. Lots of times.
Because - sheesh! - it's so tiring being a parent! Sleep deprivation is a killer and when you are exhausted it's so hard to follow through on anything other than to just survive. For everyone to be breathing at the end of the day.
And you know what? I think we deserve a medal every single day by just managing that.
Out of bed, clothes on everyone, food in mouths (mothers always last, if at all), lunches, out the door on time, car seat tantrums, I-don't-like-shoes/those-pants/hats/sunscreen/jackets tantrums, sign-in's, working out what to feed everyone, laundry: dear sweet Jesus help me, work, did I do enough hours, does my brain even function anymore... and that's only by about 10am.

It. Is. HARD. Really, really hard. 

So if you feel like your brain is made of cotton wool? Me too.
Feel like just quitting sometimes but know that just ain't an option? Me too.
Feel like you can't just admit any of this because people give you that look or stop talking or there's an awkward silence where you wonder if they're going to report you to someone for admitting you're having a hard time? Me too. 
Feel like every other mum has it together? Me too.
Feel like it's groundhog day and you just cannot see an end to the repetition? Me too.
Feel like just going to bed for like a whole day and a whole night without talking to anyone or having anyone touch you or ask anything of you? Me too. (Let's face it, for longer than a day).

You're okay. I'm okay. Our kids are OKAY.
You love your kids, you're trying, you're being a real person and you're doing it, you're doing parenting, and you're awesome and amazing and a superstar for it.
Go and feel GOOD about yourself. Go and tell those condescending, bullying voices in your head to SHUT UP for once while you have a cup of something that's your favourite and a plate of something else that's your favourite.
Because you will always look back on this time and be amazed that you made it through. And you're going to make it through. And so am I. And our kids will be just fine. And there's no point worrying about the "what if's" because they steal our moments from us.

Love and grace and peace and happiness from me.

xx Sarah

Intentional Parenting: Don't just be an ambulance

I seem to be having an identity crisis, blog-wise. I started this blog on a sort of high-and-mighty whim, where I wanted to save the world and give my opinion on everything, and initially I did that. Then I got pregnant again and enter hormones, oh joy, and I kind of stopped wanting to share anything with anyone. Let alone online. But I have this space, and it's mine, and I realised a while ago that I just really enjoy writing. I love to write. It is a fun way for me to spend some time. So because of that, I want to keep writing here.

Long story short, I'm going to try regularly writing about things relevant to me, and to attempt to swallow my anxiety about stating my opinion. Eeek. I'm going to write regularly about parenting and motherhood, since this is what my life looks like currently and I do have a heart for mothers and their journeys. I deeply appreciate blogs like Lisa-Jo Baker who write primarily to encourage mums. I hope that the things I write will be encouraging, and not preachy, or condescending. Let's go.

My husband and I were talking a couple of years ago about marriage, and about relationships we saw that were struggling and how sad we felt about it. I was feeling frustrated about what I saw as a lack of effort on behalf of most men to be pro-active in their marriages. (This is a generalisation based on what I could see around me at the time. I know this is definitely not the case for every man. Please don't bite my head off.) He made a telling remark after that, though, and said "Most guys tend to have an 'ambulance at the bottom of the cliff' approach to marriage" and to parenting.

Something I try to do is to be intentional about my parenting. I can't expect to cruise through my life without thinking about what I want it to look like, and then feel I can ask "WHY did this happen?!" when or if things go pear-shaped. I know there are no guarantees in life, and that sometimes things just go in a completely different direction than we had ever dreamed. I'm not saying that will never happen. I do find it really helpful to learn about parenting, to make goals, and plans, and to be intentional about what I do with my children and how I talk to them. Bloggers like Tsh from The Art of Simple (formally Simple Mom) have really helped me see the benefit in this way of thinking. And when Sarah Bessey wrote her Practices of Parenting it hugely inspired me and got me thinking about what matters to me most in my family.

Consider this a Part One, or a summary, and I'll plan to write more in detail about these things. These are some of the values that I'm intentional about with my kids:

• How I talk to them, and how we talk to each other. I tell them I Love You a LOT. A lot. I list positive things about them every day. 
• I apologise. We value the tone of our voices, and if I use a "grumpy voice" I apologise. I tell them not to whine and to ask nicely for things, I need to do the same. This sort of leads into:
• We practice what we preach. If I ask my children not to whine, I need to not whine. This is a work in progress with things like what we eat - if I don't want them overloading on sugar, I need to not overload on it myself. If I want them to be active, I need to be active (Lord, help me). If I don't want them to yell, or hit, then by crikey I'd better not do those things either. 
• Being positive about our body image. "Fat" is the banned F-word in our house. I don't talk negatively about any part of me or my body. I tell my daughter that we are beautiful (even when all our wobbly bits are hanging out!). I'm not falsely modest or ashamed around my kids. If they want to do raspberry's on my tummy, that's ok. 
• I compliment things other than our looks. I tell my kids they are beautiful, but I intentionally follow that with "and brave, smart, funny, and kind. I love you so much."

Do I get this right all the time? No! And I almost don't want to write at all about parenting, for fear of making other people feel stink because she does this stuff all the time and I don't. Heavens, no. I fail every day at this. But I do apologise. Being intentional with our parenting isn't about being perfect, it's about thinking about what we do, what we say, and reviewing every so often whether stuff lines up.
There are other things I would like to be more intentional with as our kids get older, including outdoor time and active hobbies, book reading, helping around home, making decisions together, and of course our faith and growing in God together. I'm still learning and researching how to do this stuff.

I'd love to hear other peoples thoughts on this idea of Intentional Parenting.
What are some things you do that are intentional?
What are some things you want to work on in the future? 
Does writing and discussing parenting make you feel encouraged, or guilty? How can parenting be talked about openly without it becoming a bragging-fest or a guilt trip?!

Thanks for reading and please take my words in the heart I've intended. To share, encourage and inspire us to believe that life is more than just lack of sleep and peanut-butter smears all over our favourite clothes.

xx Sarah 

A day in the life

On Thursday this week I was checking Facebook and realised that it was Laura from The Hollywood Housewife's "One Day" on Instagram. I had been keen on joining in, just because I figure it's fun to be a part of something bigger than us, sometimes. Here's the general idea:

So for the friends who thought I had completely and utterly lost my mind when I was posting photos of my dinner, now hopefully it all makes sense?! Because of the time difference and my baby-brain memory, I did mine on the 14.11.13 - the same day as people in America did it. Which made it really fun, because for a day I turned my instagram profile off private and had lots of people pop in and out because of the hashtag. (As an aside, I am Sarah_rific on Instagram, and if you are a real person and not someone trying to sell me something or posting scary pictures, I'll approve your follow!)

My day was a typical day in the life of a mother of 3 kids 5 and under. It was super-exhausting. It involved at least 2 tantrums from my 3 year old son. My husband was out most of the morning so I was doing the morning routine alone. I also had a head cold and wasn't feeling overjoyed about that day.

It was not glamourous. I didn't do anything special or out of the ordinary. I didn't spend time with anyone outside of my own family. But I'm really glad I have that day documented, now. Because why else would I take photos of nappy changes, snack times, car trips and joyous reunions as my husband arrives home? I really love talking to and spending time with women older than myself, whose children have left home, I love their wisdom and their perspective, but one of my pet peeves is that some of them (not all) seem to have genuinely forgotten just how hard and exhausting it is to parent little children. So much is expected of us as mums and I can't keep up - I can just never, ever keep up. But now if I ever have moments in twenty years time where I hear myself saying to a 30-something mum "Oh, these are the best years of your life! Make the most of each moment, it will be over before you know it!" - I can look back on these photos from this One Day, and remember what it was actually like. Exhausting. Messy. Kind of demoralising. And full of smiling, grimey little faces that I love with all my heart.

 xx Sarah

It doesn't have to be perfect...

So I've been noticeably (or un-noticeably?) absent, probably due to my One Word - Rest. It's sort of ironic to spend all your time on the computer writing about resting. So I've been trying to rest instead. Not that I've been necessarily succeeding but there you go. One can only try.

I thought I'd write a short post about something that's been helping me get through this 3-kids-5-and-under season (kind of relevant to the above paragraph actually!).

 

You can take or leave the pretty picture, but the saying makes a lot of sense to me.

Don't let perfect be the enemy of the good.

What this means to me is: Don't let your unrealistic and massive expectations of yourself ruin the results that you are actually able to achieve. Don't let the fact that it "doesn't look/feel/seem like I imagined" steal what it is... which is good.

For anyone who has either perfectionist tendencies or is a bit OCD I think it's good to remember that sometimes, it's okay to just do what you can, with what you have, where you're at. It's good to dream and plan and all that, but sometimes life and circumstances and reality just get in the way, and we can't quite manage what we thought we'd be able to.

Don't let the myth of Perfect rob you of the joy to be found in the everyday moments of life.

When you send a letter or parcel to a friend, don't be disappointed that it was missing a hand-made toy or that you didn't manage to get to the shops to put chocolate in it too. Celebrate that you actually did do something. You put something in the post. You made an effort. You cared.

If you are always too tired or disorganised or poor to send anything in the post, realise that the fact that you text your friends and pray for them actually really does matter. And that people really appreciate a listening ear. And that doesn't have to cost you anything.

When it's your kids birthday party and you've been surfing Pinterest and pinning all the cute, themed yummy hand-made food but on the day you've had a kid with a broken arm and another kid in hospital and you're shattered and in the end you just don't quite manage the all-important vision... remember, you've thrown them a birthday party. They smiled, they blew out some candles, they had fun. Have fun yourself, don't let Perfect steal fun and memories from you.

When your home and your marriage and your parenting and your career and your church just don't look or feel like you think they really should, remember that things don't have to be perfect to be good. Your baby might not sleep or eat like those babies you see everywhere else, but you know what? Your baby is your baby and no baby is "perfect". Your house might not look like a magazine spread but neither do the houses in the magazines. They were cleaned and styled like nothing else for a few hours with a photographer. It's not reality. No church or pastor will ever tick every box that you have in your head for what the "perfect" church should be. The one you have can still be good. Really good. So can your husband, your job, your town.

So in this season where I have lots of dreams and ideas but pretty much zero energy to achieve them, I'm grateful for what I have, grateful for the chances to do what I love with the people I adore. I won't let Perfect rob me of what is good in my life.

What about you? What are the areas where the desire to be perfect can rob you of what is actually pretty good?

xx Sarah

Reading, reading, and some more reading.

Earlier this year I blogged about wanting to read all the books I bought over the last few years and have just sat around... a giant pile. So far I've read one - yes one - from that pile (applause, anyone?), but I've read 2 other non-related books, if that counts for anything?

Anyway, they were great, so here's my thoughts.

From the pile I started with "Loving our Kids on Purpose" by Danny Silk. This one had come recommended from Sarah Bessey's list of books that influenced her parenting, and it's a good'un. I'm a bit useless with self-help, non-fiction, fix-it type books - but this one was easy to read, relevant, and not nauseating and annoying (James Dobson, I'm looking at you...). I've taken many tidbits away from this book and applied them to my life, and there are others which I'm still going to work on. Silk's approach is non-traditional and therefore immediately appealing to me, non-conformist that I am (a friend recently called me this after spending four days with me - I wasn't aware this is what I am! Hilarious). He turns us away from a punishment-based system of parenting, towards a system of choices and consequences. What is your main goal in parenting? That your kid does exactly what you say, all the days of his life? Or that your kid is able, one day, to step into the big wide world, full of choices and possibilities and temptations, and choose wisely. We model to our kids what God is like. Is God up in heaven with a big stick, waiting to smack us with it each time we step out of line? No. Yet isn't it amazing how many of us grow up thinking that, even into adulthood.
The idea of a 2 choice system has already worked really well with my rough-and-tumble toddler. Mister 2 year old will lose.the.plot. very quickly when he puts his mind to it. Goes straight from asking once for something, to shrieking the house down. The 2 choice system has helped a lot. For example, when he is leaning so far into the baby capsule that he is probably going to suffocate his sister, I can give him 2 choices - "Buddy? Want to put your shoes on, or watch tv?" for example. Thus getting him away from the poor baby without having to physically drag him. I didn't believe it until I tried it - but Danny Silk talks about taking the struggle from a toddlers body to his brain. So when they're fighting you on something, give them 2 choices, then they have to think - often distracting them from the initial issue. It works brilliantly for us. The ones we use the most are "Hold hands or stay home", when heading out the front door (we live on a main street and he would throw a fit about holding hands when we walk out the door - but it's a non-negotiable for me). Also at dinner time when he doesn't want to eat - "In the bath straight away, or finish your beans?" This has often meant he'll eat his dinner. Big triumph. The book also stresses how important it is to say things in a neutral way, "Happy voices!" as we say in our house. Early on he makes the excellent point that no one controls us - not our kids, not our spouse, not even God in fact - the only one who controls us is us. Therefore the greatest thing and the best tool you can bring to your parenting is self-control.
Not challenging at all, right? Ha. An empowering book but I'm not saying it's easy to live like this! Choices, choices, every day for parents and kids.

 Next up is "Is it just me?" by Miranda Hart. Of "Miranda" tv fame - anyone? Who else is a fan? Such fun!
I requested this one from the library because I wanted a laugh, and it is a laugh. The book is a series of observations on the awkwardness of life, presented as a conversation between herself as a 38 year old and her 18 year old younger self. She takes 18 categories and writes a manual for life - a "Miran-ual", if you will - full of lots of laugh-out-loud moments. In the end however I took from this book much more than a few giggles. Strung throughout the book is the theme of accepting yourself, loving who you are, and being true to you - rather than pretending to be someone else, or be interested in things you're just not into. I can't say how much I admire Miranda for the choices she's made, all the while not sacrificing the things which make her, well, her. I won't spoil the ending, but basically through the whole book her 18 year old self has no idea who she has become, as a 38 year old - and spends the majority of the time mortified at how little of a life she apparently has in the future. The final chapter, on Dreams, is amazing. The final 2 pages are spectacular. I always thought Miranda was funny, but now - I utterly adore her, and she is my hero. I thank you. (< Miranda reference!)

Shortly before I went on holiday I was doing a bit of soul searching, and thinking I wanted reading material to take with me, but nothing disturbing, depressing, or involving child abuse, abduction, bad language, sex scenes, complicated interpersonal relationships - the things most grown-up fiction seems loaded with. So I went back to my love of childrens classic literature. I have a pile I'd intended to read, but I began with an author unfamiliar to me that I came across in this brilliant post - "10 books you must read to your daughter - or How to Keep Your Daughter from Ending up like that Horrid Girl in Twilight". There were a few on her list that I hadn't read, but in the comments I came across Lloyd Alexander as a suggestion so his name had been in the back of my mind. I got out "The Fantastical Adventures of the Invisible Boy" from the library, purely because it was the only one of his there. I loved it. His writing is wonderful, and the story was fascinating - of a young boy who is kept home sick, and feels "invisible" due to the fact that people look through him and don't see him, so he spends his time drawing pictures and inventing exciting stories in his head. He gets a tutor, an older family relative called Aunt Annie who he nicknames the "Gorgon" or "Gawgon" - and they develop an unlikely friendship in real life and in his stories. My favourite passage is this: "Exactly when, I could not be sure, but it was during one of those summer afternoons that The Gawgon captured my total devotion and allegiance. Because she saw me for whatever I was. No longer the Amazing Invisible Boy, with her I had nothing to hide. She made me feel my mind was free to do as it pleased. A mystery of the heart? I could not solve it, nor did I care to. In any case, I came to imagine her as a mistress of time and space, expert in all disguises, who went wherever she chose, did whatever she chose, knew all that was to be known. To me, she was capable of everything and anything." 
I can't wait to read The Chronicles of Prydain next.

Lastly is one I'm still midway through, but am thoroughly enjoying, and it's influencing a lot of my decisions - "The Happiness Project" by Gretchen Rubin. Given to me by a dear friend for my birthday, it's a fascinating exploration on what really makes us happy. For one year, the author set about making herself happier - and she didn't class herself unhappy to begin with, she just wanted to be really happy. Through a series of life rules, commandments, and subjects, she explores in a funny and extremely thoroughly researched manner the subject of happiness, and how to be more happy, within the context of being yourself. It's fab. It's given me permission to do things you enjoy, just because they make you happy. That it's not indulgent to be happy. Why do we not let ourselves do things, "Just for fun"? We are a bunch of bores sometimes! It was reading the first chapter of the book that led me to spend 10 days away on holiday, potentially spending most of that alone - not something I'd have normally been able to do. But I realised that something that made me infinitely happy was quiet... and that hearing almost no cars go past for 10 days is my definition of bliss. Why on earth would I pass that up? It was a brilliant choice and I have this book to thank! Next up is the sequel she's written, "Happier at home". Sure to be very relevant to me as a stay-at-home mum.

Other things I'm really enjoying are the magazine The Simple Things, the Nester's blog "Nesting Place" and her sister's blog "Chatting at the Sky". And I am also reading on my kindle app on my iPhone, Rachel Held Evans' book "A year of Biblical Womanhood".

Oh, and would you guess why it is that I'm finally reading books again? I stopped using Facebook. I no longer read the news feed. I no longer check my notifications. I no longer know anything about anyone. Occasionally I log on to RSVP to an event, or post a photo. But I feel so free. Sooooooo free. Can't begin to describe it. I highly recommend this as a social experiment of sorts, especially if you're prone to anxiety or taking on a lot of stress from other people's stuff. This article helped me make my mind up. I have to make more effort with texting and calling certain friends now, since I don't see what they do online. But for me that is okay. I have more space in my head now, and more time in real life.

Anyone else have any exciting book recommendations, or things that are making them happy?

xx Sarah

Cherished

Today I'm having a go for the first time at "Five Minute Friday", with Lisa-Jo Baker, and it's freaking me out a little! The idea is to write for just five minutes flat, with no editing or thinking too much about it. "why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing." (from her website). Today's word was Cherished - so here we go!

GO

Little blinking eyes, squinting at the world. Head turning left, right, left, right, clunking it's way around my body - shoulder, chin, shoulder. Popping up like a meercat, then down again to nuzzle into my chest.

Baby girl with long, curled up fingers. A little brown birthmark over the left shoulder. Toes so long that they curl around your pinky. Slender legs with chubby skin on top.

A smile that starts from the eyes. It almost looks like she's pretending to wink. Then her mouth opens, the edges of it curl, and it turns into a full-blown, mega-watt, heart-melting grin - eyes twinkling, mouth wide open, utter joy.

Each day, each week will bring new changes. I can see her in gumboots, splashing through puddles, waddling around all crazy-like as she learns to walk. Sitting in the sand pit, exploring this new thing with her hands and then eating it, wrinkling up her face. Running after her brother and sister, screaming, giggling, bellowing. I wonder if you'll be as loud as them, my dear, cherished baby girl.

STOP

xx Sarah

Inspiration while in the baby bubble

Pregnancy and being self-absorbed go hand in hand for me. Just being straight up.

So when there's so little emotional energy left over for anything other than just trying to survive, I'm grateful for little pockets of Wow moments which remind me that there is life outside the baby bubble.

So I thought I'd share a couple today.

The first is Christa Black, who is back blogging again and has her book being released in about a week. I own this book and will be buying copies over and over for people now it's out again. It's life changing. Check her out at www.christablack.com.

Then the next one, courtesy of Christa, is this video. Beyonce - it's unbelievable. Totally worth your time.

Practices of Parenting: Speak out Love

Today I've chosen to join up with Sarah at Emerging Mummy and many other amazing people to write about one of my Practices of Parenting - something I do to help me enjoy parenting every day, right now. If you're into reading about parenting then click on the link above and read more of the amazing things people have to share.


This is dear to my heart, what I write to you today. These three words:

I love you

I don't claim to be the "perfect" parent. I don't claim to know a whole lot. I am learning as I go, as we all do. But I know that when I became a parent I had something I held dear to me, a vow inside my heart. It started just as the knowledge that I was growing something inside me, a combination of me and my husband, something that would become a real, live, person - so hard to imagine during those first 9 months. No child of mine will ever, ever, question my love for them.

So I say it, all the time. "I love you". Every day. Quite a few times a day. 

Those three words seem to hold a fair amount of controversy for some people. The theory that somehow a child or person can be "Spoilt" from too much love just doesn't ring true with me. The idea that somehow it can get a bit old, or tired, to hear "I love you" too much doesn't stick either - I would much, much rather be told it too much, and say it too much, than  to spend each day longing to hear those words, or not knowing how to get them out. That is sort of my background. An awkward feeling hearing "I love you", and an awkwardness in saying it. With my own children, I refuse to be awkward. From minute one, from moment one, from the womb onwards - through their childhoods, embarrassing teens, at their 21st speeches, weddings, births of their children - I will keep saying it. I love you. I'm proud of you. You are so, so special to me.

And I don't just reserve it for my kids. Some of my friends probably think I'm a bit weird, because I do tend to say I love you in texts, emails, conversations, fairly regularly. I don't say it lightly. I don't say it out of habit. I don't say it to just anybody. But I do make a choice daily to not be ashamed to speak out Love. I believe it makes a huge difference.

When my best friend's sister died eight years ago, I drove up with my future husband to the family home in Northland. And when I got out of the car, and my friend ran down the driveway, and I dropped my bags and ran to her - we just clung onto each other and all I can remember saying is "I love you, I love you, I love you, I'm so sorry, I love you" - and her saying it back, repeating it back to me. Since then, I speak out love. I won't wait for a tragedy. I won't wait for a wake-up call. I will continue to say it. So, if I say it to you - don't feel awkward. It's not romantic. It's not wishy washy. It's not to pressure you into a deeper friendship. It's just because you matter to me, and love matters to me, and, as Gandhi says, I want to "be the change you wish to see in the world". That's the change I wish to see. 

Love. Love. Love.

"Mostly what God does is love you. Keep company with him and learn a life of love. Observe how Christ loved us. His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn't love in order to get something from us but to give everything of himself to us. Love like that." (Ephesians 5:2, The Message)

xx Sarah

Church, community, and 3 boxes of groceries.

Recently I had a message from a friend – not a really close friend, but not just an acquaintance, certainly someone who I like a lot and intend to call more than I actually do… in any case, a few years ago at church we were making meals for people once a fortnight on a Wednesday morning. Either people from church who were sick, had new babies or were just having a hard time, or if anyone knew anyone from the community we’d make meals for them too. We made a meal for this friend when she was pregnant with her 2^nd child and studying. She wrote me this message and wrote some very special things about how she felt at the time, that she would “never forget the kindness and feeling of support when you showed up with dinner and bikkies for us”. It's amazing how the small things and the practical things make a big difference. She then asked for help for a friend who was struggling. A single mum with 3 kids who has “hit rock bottom emotionally and financially”.

I’m characteristically soft and tend to lean towards wanting to help and save everyone anyway… but this one really got to me. I think because I get quite upset when I hear about not just the physical and practical consequences of the bad stuff that goes down for so many people, but the emotional and spiritual toll it takes on them.

So I sent out a message to about 20 friends from church, I asked if they could buy 1 extra grocery item in their shop that week. I was picturing giving her a small to medium size box of treats. The kinds of things that just make life that little bit nicer – chocolate biscuits, shampoo, body wash, tea and coffee. When you’re really hard up it’s always a choice what you leave out, and with 3 kids I bet she was always at the end of the list when it came to doing the weekly groceries.

Not only did people respond, but they responded BIG time. Not everyone who I got in touch with was able to help, (and this is absolutely not about making anyone feel guilty or stink for not participating because I would never EVER want anyone to feel that way), but 10 people were able to help, and they bought entire bags of things. Blocks of chocolate, biscuits, juice, chippies, gift packs of lotions and shampoos, breakfast cereals, canned chicken, pasta, cash. It was just beautiful. I ended up with one huge box and 2 medium boxes.

When I went over to this woman’s house I had initially a bag with 2 meals and some baking, which she accepted incredibly gratefully. But when I bought in the first box she just stopped in her tracks and shook her head and said “No, no, I can’t accept this – I can’t!” I of course refused to listen, convinced her that there were many of us and that these things had been bought especially for her because we care, at which point she cried and put her head in her hands. I managed to remember to ask if I could give her a hug before I hugged her (always key to not looking like too much of a freak). I showed her a flyer which had our churches number on it, told her she could call if she needed more. She said she would when she “got her s**t together”.

Then she started talking about how she had been doing a parenting course recently, and they had discussed that when things were hard they were, in a way, that much harder because there is no sense of community anymore. That it was amazing how I had these friends and we could pull together to do this, to help someone and each other – but for her she was all alone, she had no one, and it was too hard.

I completely agree with her. In our middle class, first world lives we have gotten extremely accustomed to doing everything alone. We raise our children by ourselves, we don’t know our neighbours very well anymore, there’s not even as much lending and borrowing going on as perhaps there would have been 30 years ago. We have organizations like Plunket and we have the government, people that are trying hard to look out for those on the margins but at the same time telling them to “Get a real job” and that if they budget effectively they can live perfectly well on a benefit. There’s only so much those organizations can do.
The government can’t be your friend. Plunket can’t come over and have a cup of tea with you while you pour your heart out. None of these places can give us the long-term, constant support that you need when life throws the worst it’s got at you – and that happens to all of us.

This is where I believe in the Church. Not just my particular church, the one I attend in Wanganui with the people I care for and that care for me – but the Church as a body, as God’s bride, as a whole – worldwide, every denomination. The Church is the community that the world (as a generalisation – some of you may live in wonderful, supportive neighbourhoods) lacks. The lovely lady that I had the privelege to help had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. Luckily she had one supportive friend who knew she was in over her head, and she knew me, and knew we would help. Of everything that happened in this experience it is that fact that most warms my heart. She KNEW the church would help. She’s not a Christian. She’s not churchy. I’ve never invited her to anything. Yet she knew we would help. Thank you, God.

After all the years I spent singing, playing music, performing, leading, doing items and doing all other manner of creative stuff in churches it is the year of cooking meals in the kitchen with a group of friends that has taught me the most about myself, about Church, about community and about how to show love to a hurting world.

Let’s not get so caught up in the doing of a church “service” and the programs and activities that we run, that we miss our chance to be the hands and feet of a God who cares about the hungry, the poor, the hurting and the lonely.
xx Sarah