Thunderbolt and lightning, very very frightening....

Picture it - around 6.30am this morning:

• Me in the shower, hair and ears full of suds, trying hard not to get it in my eyes.
• Dog #2 trying to melt herself through the shower doors before the thunder eats her alive (or so she thinks)
• Child #1 trying to tell me how scared she is, but having to yell cos I can't hear her.

And then I remembered the washing on the line from yesterday....

That was how my day started, more or less.

All told though, it was a relatively good day. I got to spend it outdoors with about 125 Gd 11s in the sun and in a river; some of whom are just too ... snobbish? cool? scared?... to actually get wet or dirty. Oh dear God, help me! I'm going to strangle them.

For many of them, it was the first time they've ever caught tadpoles, or crabs (the invertebrate kind, not the STD kind!)

(Speaking of which, I finally got around to getting an HIV test last week. It's something we actively promote at the school, to help destigmatise it. The nurse didn't realise that I'd never had one before - I was apparently so calm and collected she assumed it must be a regular thing for me. That's me - Miss Cool, Calm and Collected.)

However, right now, I'm still feeling a bit out of sorts. I'm really hoping I didn't get burnt (doesn't feel like it), but I suspect that I've got a touch of heat-stroke. It was SO humid in the river itself, and HOT as hell.

Of course, I'm also so tired, I've done no school work tonight, which is not good either... no lessons planned for tomorrow, no marking done, etc. But as I'm going to gym at 5am tomorrow, I think I need to sleep now. Sleep is more important, right? Let's hope that my sick kids (yup, AGAIN!) don't wake me up and that my loving hubbie doesn't snore too badly.

In the quietness...

I am amazed to look back and see how far God has brought me on my journey of grief and healing. I can see the deep, dark hole I was in, and I can see where I am now - and they are miles apart! Yet, I can still see the long road ahead of me, to get to where I'd like to be with God.

Something that I've really struggled with is spending that one-on-one time with God. In part, that's because I feel I've lost the ability to hear God's quiet voice. In part, it's because I'm scared that I'll sit there, anticipating, and then hear nothing - that it will feel like God's abandoned me yet again. In part, it's that I don't feel I can make the time. In part, it's that I'm just too lazy to apply myself.

This is the area God has been tackling for a while now. I do hear God. I know I hear him - his Spirit has spoken quiet words into my heart, growing a longing in me to read the Word, to hear God speak to me through his Word. But there's always a good reason why I can't put it into practice, or so I thought.

Over the past few weeks, at church, to start off the year, we've been learning about why it's not only important, but also beneficial, to have a regular time with God, reading his Word and praying. Last year, I know that God was preparing my heart to hear this message, and so I've found myself receptive to it. I've found a few things startling though, about what has been said, and the way it has been said.

Firstly, something I've found really helpful is the idea that we don't read the Bible for what WE can get out of it. Rather, we read the Bible to expose our lives to it - to let IT read US.

Secondly, I've been impressed with the lack of side-stepping the issue the preachers have shown. While their messages have been sensitive and inclusive, the clear message is that having a quiet time in the morning, and having one every single morning, is best. There are good reasons for this, which, if you want to know, you can download off the church website (www.commongroundchurch.org.za) (or is it .co.za?).

Usually, preachers are so careful not to offend those who are night owls, who work shifts, who are dyslexic, or whatever, that they don't lay down the law in this way, as it were. Again, although they DID make allowances, it was made abundantly clear that for most of us, failing to read the Bible, or failing to read it first thing in the morning, is simply a cop-out.

Thirdly, I was struck by the fact that if God is first in my life, this is something that should come first too.

Now I am NOT a morning person. I'm a night owl. I can work, very happily until 3am. Ask me to get up before 6am (8am on weekends) and you're going to get your head bitten off. Mornings are also really busy for me - kids to get ready, lunches to make, drop-offs at school, morning meeting at 7.45am.... So I figured that, if this is so important to God, He had better help me find a time to do it in the morning.

And He has. He identified 10 mins in the morning for me when I can just sit and read the Word. It's amazing. I'd never seen it before, but it was there, right in front of me all the time. So now I have a time slot, in the morning, without me having to get up extra early!

Fourthly, I was struck by the idea that if this is going to be important to me, I cannot allow distractions - even good ones (like my kids, or minor emergencies at work), to disturb me. And this is exactly where I fell down. All was going well for the first 5 days, and then there was "just" something I quickly needed to do in that slot. In the blink of an eye, I lost my time-slot as I allowed it to be eaten up by other things.

But it's not all doom and gloom. The next Sunday, the preach was on a useful method to employ during your quiet time with God - VIP. V - choose one verse to memorise. I - what insight can you gain by reflecting on it. P - how will you pray in response to that insight? The idea is that you journal those 3 points every day. I've also found a devotional study for 21 days for Busy Women! So, I'm back on the wagon. A fresh week, a fresh determination to spend that time with God, reading His word. A habit is formed in 48 days... let's see if I can make it through the week and weekend first. Then we'll tackle the following 41 days!

Thank God for 2nd chances! (and 3rd, and 4th, and 5th, and 6th....).

Candle burning at both ends

I'm not going to apologise (much) for leaving you all high and dry over the holidays... I was just TOO BUSY to blog, which tells you something. I'm not going to try to catch you up either. Sorry. There's just too much water under the bridge for that, suffice to give you one or two headlines.

• There are black scorpions in Sedgefield. One crawled on me. Two others came home with us in the car.
• I backed my car into a wall (no - I wasn't looking!) That wasn't the problem - the repair company was. Even now, nearly a month later, my blood starts to boil when I think about it. Let's not go there.
• #1 has started school! WOW! Grade 1!
• #2 has started a new nursery school around the corner. (Nice and convenient!)
• #2 has also been given a new diet to help cure his eczema that includes: no dairy, no wheat, no sugar, no aspartame (artificial sweetner), no yeast, no honey, no peanuts, no preservatives, no colourants, and all fruit must be peeled (e.g. no apple skins). He is also not allowed any contact with soaps or detergents. Hmmm. Ja. Ok then.
• Hubbie has started a new job (internal promotion), with all that entails, while continuing with his original job because he hasn't been replaced yet. Hmmm. Ja. Ok then. (And then the servers failed as well - still no email, nearly a week later!) Talk about STRESS!!!!!

Because the school holidays were cut short by a week (thanks, national education dept!) we all started the year still a bit tired and frazzled. Our time away was lovely though - glorious days of just swimming and swimming and swimming - in the lake, at the beach, in the river mouth. We even got a few days of camping practice in, so #2 seems ready to rock 'n roll on that front now. (Bring on weekends and Easter!)

When I'm tempted to complain about the tiredness though, and the busyness, I just remember that the extra work I did last year has paid for #1's school fees in full for this year, and when the rest is paid into my account (hopefully at the end of Feb), it will also pay in full for #2's fees. That will take a significant financial pressure off us this year. Although it was hard work, and took me away from my family a lot at the end of the year, I think it was worth it.

So - forward ho, into 2012 we go! I'm not counting weeks or days yet, but I am really looking forward to Easter. I'm looking forward to having some time off (read: away!) with the family, our 14th anniversary celebratory get-away,  and hopefully getting some rest!

Go long! Go long!

Recently, a colleague at work told me something, and I was convinced he was just pulling my leg. Determined not to be gullible, and fall for it, I refused to believe him. Last night though, I discovered he was, in fact, telling the truth.

Kids - you can definitely try this one at home!

Stand as far away from your car as you can, in a straight line (or in line of sight), so that you are at the limit of the distance over which your car remote will work. Check that it works. Now take 2 steps backwards, away from your car. Check that your remote no longer works. Take another 15 (approx) steps backwards. Check your remote again - it definitely should not work.

Now open your mouth wide, point your remote inside your mouth (aim for your hard palate), and press it, and see what happens.

It's like.... WOW!

Science at work in everyday life is SOOOOO cool.

I'm still not sure why it happens. My DH has a theory, but I'm not sufficiently physics minded to judge if he's right or not, so I still need to go and do a bit of my own research.

You go and try this, while I go do my research, and we'll meet back here in... oh... say 2 weeks time? or maybe 3... with Christmas around the corner I may need some extra time.

Have fun entertaining the kids!

Words show meaning

When someone dies, how do you refer to it? Do you say the bereaved "lost" their family member, or do you say that the deceased has 'gone to heaven' or has 'died'?

This morning I learnt that the wife of one of our elders died last night. She'd had cancer. In thinking about it, I realised that I wasn't sure how to discuss it. My initial reaction was to say that her husband and kids had "lost" her. Then, thinking about her faith and peace and trust in God, I thought that maybe I ought to say that she had "gone home".

The way you naturally discuss it says a lot, I think, about your perspective on death, on life. Something I've been thinking about a lot recently is trying to keep my eyes on God, not my circumstances, so that my trust is in him, not in my circumstances. I'm hoping that by practicing this now, when the tough times hit us again (as they inevitably will) it'll be such a habit that I won't waver in my trust.

It struck me, while thinking about our elder and his 4 small kids, that my concern was for them. If all I look at is them, then I start to question why God would allow such a wonderful woman and mother to die so young.

Yet, her own faith is a witness to me, because she had absolute peace and faith, right up until the end. As a mother, I'm not sure how she did it. If I knew I was dying, with my young kids, I would be angry and panicked - after all, my kids need me; they need to grow up with their mother's love surrounding them. So the fact that she had peace tells me that she was leaving her kids in God's care, that she trusted him to provide for them, to uphold them and that she believed her death would not (ultimately) have a negative impact on their lives. That's faith.

If she could have that kind of faith, then how can I, as an outsider to the situation, question what God's motives are in allowing this to happen? Surely I should follow her lead, and trust that God is good, all the time?

Which brings me back to my original question - how do I, how do you, how do we discuss the death of a loved one?

I met someone recently who had known my uncle. When he saw my surname, he asked if I was related, and I replied in the affirmative. I went on to say that my uncle IS a wonderful man (nearly a year after his tragic death), before I corrected myself to say he WAS. Then I almost corrected myself again, because I know that my uncle IS still alive, in heaven, waiting for the rest of us.

Blessings

Over the past few weeks I've been counting my blessings. Partly it's been brought about by some work we've been doing with our Born Sleeping contacts (heartbreaking stuff!) and partly because I've been working all the hours God gives and Graeme has picked up the flak and partly because I've just been looking more.

I've been struck by how amazing my kids are. Nathan is tenacious, to say the least. When he's getting enough sleep (!!) he is just so cute he's edible - polite, sweet, adorable, affable, funny, cheerful, loving. (When he's not, he's a nightmare who will scream and kick and throw a DIVA fit for longer than my patience lasts.) Janel is a genuine fairy princess. She's just so beautiful - even with her scruffy, fuzzywuzzy hair, tomboy scruffy appearance, and filthy feet and hands. Her personality is beautiful too - she's such a loving, caring, helpful, concerned BIG girl.

Maybe I'm just more aware of their awesomeness because I've been thinking a lot about Zoe recently. I'm conscious that I need to celebrate them while I have them.

I had a very interesting conversation with Janel the other night, about Zoe. She burst into tears because she was missing Zoe, and that prompted a long conversation about why God allowed Zoe to die. I was amazed by her questions - why God allowed her to die, why He wouldn't tell us the reason now (why we'd have to wait till we got to heaven to know the truth), why Janel and Nathan didn't die at birth, what their names all mean (Janel - God is gracious, Zoe - life, Nathan - gift of God).

While I was pleased to have the conversation with her, it broke my heart to see how much she misses her sister, how much she longs for her, and be unable to fill that hole in her. I know how it feels to grieve someone for whom you have no real memories, yet someone with whom you have a close bond. It makes grieving harder in many respects.

At least she doesn't have to deal with the adult mentality that because there are no memories, she shouldn't feel anything. It felt good to be able to tell her that it was okay to long for her sister, to be sad that Zoe's not here, to cry. It felt good to be able to speak that truth into her heart and hold her while she cried. But at the same time, it broke my heart. I don't like seeing my baby going through that kind of pain. As her mother, I'm supposed to be able to protect her from everything. (I know, I can't, but I feel like I should be able to.)

In the conversation, I was also able to explain to her why Nathan is such a special boy - that he wouldn't be here if Zoe had lived, because we wouldn't have had another child. I pointed out to her that Nathan really is a gift from God, because she nearly died, and Zoe did die, and Nathan wouldn't have been here if it weren't for Zoe's death. Maybe I'm just reading stuff into something that isn't actually there, but since then, I've seen her make more of an effort to play lovingly with him.

The other blessing in my life, that I've counted daily, is Graeme. I honestly don't know how I wound up with such an amazing man. I know that I don't deserve him - he's the most incredible man I know. I can't even begin to count the ways in which he is a blessing in my life. And I feel just awful that I don't treat him accordingly. I could say I'm too busy, but the truth is I'm just to self-absorbed. As I said, I really don't deserve him.

Like today... A few days ago we bought new bikes. Last night we started trying to adjust them to be able to use them, and I couldn't do what needed to be done - a combination of the wrong tools and lack of physical strength. He had an initial look at it, and couldn't fix it either (lack of know-how and wrong tools). When something I really want doesn't materialise, I get incredibly disappointed. The way my disappointment manifests is that I become very tired, very low and very cross with the world.

Rather than trying to change my mood, or getting cross with me for throwing an adult-style tantrum (and withdrawing entirely from the family), he calmly popped the kids in the bath, did a quick Google search, then picked up the tools, tried again and fixed what I couldn't. He did it because he knew it was something important to me. He did it because he loves me. He did it because he knew that it was the quickest way to help me feel better. What a hero!

So, this Christmas, I am counting my blessings, the ones closest to me. God is good!

I'm happy with my life - no, really, I am!

I can't even begin to document the things that have happened since the end of Oct, even though it's only 2 weeks. To save time (and ensure that I get to bed at a reasonable hour) I'm going to select a few random ones to share with you.

There are untold stories of Nathan being unbearably cute and doing new stuff. The most notable change has been that he has suddenly decided that his grandparents are not ogres coming to rip him from my arms. Nope, turns out that grandparents are cool - they push you in the swing, they play playdough with you, they give you sweets. Who knew?! The story that stays with me is from one afternoon when I was lying in bed resting, and Nathan was outside in the garden. He thought I was asleep, but I was secretly watching him through my window.  He was trying to get into his 'new' swing (another long story there) and struggling. Next thing I know, he's not calling for me, or his father. Nope - I hear a rather plaintive "Oupa! Oupa! OUPA! OUUUUPAAAA!! asduoasdbjasdbijad SWING!" I cried (with joy, of course) and promptly rolled out of bed to go and help him.

I recently read a TIME mag article about the fact that almost all parents have a favourite child - some just hide it better than others. Of course, no (sane) parent will admit it. It was a profound article, and I've found myself questioning my every action towards my kids - trying to judge how it's coming across, whether anyone could tell whether or not I have a favourite; whether the kids think I have a favourite, or not.

I know that I am my father's favourite. My siblings know it too. It's no secret in our family. Yet, I guess, because I didn't live with my dad for much of my life, and neither did they (they're a lot older than me), I don't think it affected us in the way that it would otherwise have done. I don't know whether they were ever jealous of me or not. Still, I adored (still do, but it's not cool to say that now) my brothers. I sometimes wonder whether our lack of communication now is simply a product of our individual busy-ness, or of our age differences, or whether it has anything to do with how they perceive me as a result of being our father's favourite. Hmm...

Returning to my kids though, I've found myself consciously trying to ensure that I spend equal time and give equal affection to both of them. It's been harder than I expected - particularly with one of them. (No, I'm not telling... cos I don't have a favourite, remember?!) It's not that I love one less... it's just... well, it is what it is. It's just something I'm going to have to ensure I get right. I don't want either of my kids growing up in the shadow of the other, particularly as far as love and affection from us as parents is concerned.

One of the things I've also been working hard at is letting go of Janel - letting her grow up a bit more. At the primary school meeting we had recently all the parents were reminded that our kids need to be independent to cope at school: they need to be able to tie their own laces, dry & dress themselves after swimming, etc, etc. While we've ticked most boxes, I have to confess that it's just easier to do some of that stuff myself for her - it's quicker, it's more accurate - than let her learn to do it for herself. So I've been working hard at not doing stuff for her. She hasn't enjoyed it all the time - she's like me in that respect (why do something for yourself when you can get someone else to do it for you?! Ja - laziness... I know.) - but I know it's good for her in the long run. Maybe it's a gender thing; maybe it's a parenting the first vs subsequent children thing; maybe it's because I've always been so protective of her, especially given her start in life. I can see that I don't worry about Nathan in the same way. Whatever it is, I'm finding it hard to always let her do things in her own way, in her own time, especially in the mornings when we're running late! But we'll get there. I'm determined.

Then, in other news, Malema is no longer in the ANC. Yup. Can't quite believe it myself. I still find myself waiting to wake up and find it's not true. I am thrilled, naturally, but I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.

On the health front, I'm just recovering from bronchitis.... I've decided that every year I overdo things in Oct, so I've already turned down one of the things I usually get involved in. I won't be doing that next year. That should help! I've already booked our Oct holiday as a proper family holiday with G. We will be RESTING in that holiday. Let's hope it makes a huge difference to my health in Oct/ Nov next year.

Of course, it's Movember.... while I support the cause, I have to say - have you ever seen so many ridiculous looking men?!?!?!?! Sorry guys, but you really do look silly. And who would want to kiss you looking like that?! Thank God my own man has shown sense. (Or maybe he's just too tired to care?!)

Work is work - busy as all hell. But I'm plodding through. I'll get there in the end. Won't bore you with the 'To Do' list. However, I will mention that I've got an AWESOME phone app - Astrid tasks. Loving it. I'm still trying to find the right balance between keeping inbox task lists and Astrid lists, but I'm finding it so useful to have one list that goes everywhere with me. Definitely to be recommended.

Oh yes, and the WCED is doing their thing again... Even after all these years, I continue to be surprised at their lack of proper communication. There have been two incidences this week alone which have caused me to roll my eyes, sigh a lot, and laugh at them (it's either that, or slit my wrists). However, to their credit, their blunders have come as a result of trying to implement good practice. They just didn't think things through properly; they didn't think far enough ahead to forsee the consequences of their decisions. Again, that is very typical. Sigh. Roll eyes. No slitting wrists allowed.

We're into exam season now, which I both love and hate. I hate marking (sucker for punishment, me, then, since I'm a matric marker) with a passion. HATE it. HATE HATE HATE it. This is the part of my job that I would happily leave the profession as a result of. However, I love the change that comes over the staff during this time. Maybe it's just the change in pace, or routines, or maybe it's a defence mechanism to the stress. Whatever it is, I love how the staff joke with each other at this time of year. Everyone gets involved. People have (ironically) more time to just hang out together. Next week it will all change though, as everyone will have some marking to do. Then it'll be back to end-of-year grumpiness. But right now, I'm loving being at work. Loving it. I work with the greatest bunch of people in the world.

Right now, actually, things are good all round. Yes, I'm still feeling a little below par, and Nathan's sick, and Graeme is tired, and Nellie has a permanent "tummy ache", and finances are extremely tight, and my bike was stolen last week... there is lots I could choose to complain about. But you know what? I'm choosing to focus on the things going right:

I'm getting better.
My kids are awesome.
My husband really is the best in the world!!
We've already started the Christmas shopping.
I love my job.
My God loves me and forgives me.
I'm happy with my life!