What I want to give my children this Christmas

ETA: At the time of writing this, we were awaiting my husband's Covid test results as he had been really poorly with the symptoms. I obviously didn't want to publicise this on the blog in case it was negative! However, a few hours after writing this we got his results and he is positive. We had to tell the children straight away then and they realised immediately it meant Christmas in isolation. While I am afraid that one child did say 'stupid Boris Johnson' when I informed her the plans would have been ruined anyway due to the Tier 4 announcements, they bounced straight back and entertained themselves making funny and sweet videos for each other. They also said that they knew we would make it the 'best Christmas ever' even with the disadvantages. I was so humbled once again by God's goodness and generosity and so glad that I had woken this morning with the urge to write this blog. I never realised how much it would encourage me throughout the day. Here's to a Merry, if somewhat haphazard, Christmas.

Here's what I was desperate to give my children this Christmas: a shot of normality. We had plans to welcome my brother and mum here for Christmas Day, and then travel to my Dad's to stay with him, his wife and my step-brothers. We were looking forward to a change of scene, celebrating with family, hugs, fun and a much needed respite from the slog of the last 9 months.

Living in the Bradford area, we've been harder hit than most of the country by the Covid restrictions. Post-lockdown 1.0, after a blissful 30 days of being able to be inside a home with one other household (which we very much made the most of), on July 31st the government put us in local lockdown and we have never since been allowed to have another household inside our home. When the Rule of Six was introduced, as a family of five this meant we can't meet more than one person even for a walk on the moors. Our kids have no other kids to run off and play with or talk to, we can't even meet two grandparents at the same time: and it's all on us to entertain them.

We have three children, whom I homeschooled for three months, until they could return to school for three weeks in the summer term as my husband is a keyworker. He is a Deputy Headteacher and has endured all the stressful ups and downs of dealing with ever-changing government policy, incorporating new restrictions, acting as a Test and Trace centre and going into work every day knowing he could be bringing the virus home to his severely asthmatic wife.

My business was hard hit as it's weddings-based, two of my 20+ booked in weddings actually going ahead this year. Towards the end of the year things have picked up for me, which has coincided with the virus finally reaching our school and us living day to day not knowing which of our children would be sent home next. In this autumn term, I've had one child at home with me for 5 weeks of it, struggling to juggle work with their needs. Every time they isolate, we can't leave the house or garden, so I haven't met with another adult for around six weeks and haven't been for proper walk for over two as I write. It's one thing to entertain your children inside for a whole day at the best of times: doing it for nearly 4 months this term is quite another and often I wake up feeling completely hopeless and helpless at the start of the day.

Our children are old enough to understand both the reasoning behind the restrictions and to struggle very much emotionally with the constantly moving goalposts and uncertainty and anxiety that brings. They've had birthdays where lockdown was imposed two days before, haven't even been able to have a friend play even in their garden for much of the last nine months, and haven't seen one of their grandparents for more than five hours in total this year. They've been hugely upset and disappointed at every twist and turn that's defeated our fragile plans and have been left baffled and frustrated that we keep following the rules when so many around us are breaking them. One of our children has additional needs and struggles with changes in plans and routine a lot, often resulting in physical meltdowns which are very draining for the family.

Reading this, I'm sure many of you can relate to these experiences. Through lockdown, somehow God has kept us afloat, kept us sustained, given me more patience and love than I could have known, and always been there to forgive us and comfort us when we lost our rag. I'm fully aware that things are so much better for us than so many people. That doesn't cancel out the difficulties but it gives some perspective.

So when I say I was desperate to give my children a shot of normality at Christmas, being honest it wasn't just them I wanted that for, but all of us.

When Boris Johnson told us all yesterday that Christmas as we knew it was going to be cancelled, a flood of emotions engulfed us, as I'm sure they did many of you. Anger at the way the decisions had been made, heartbreak that we were not to see each other, disappointment and despair that we have to slog on alone, and most of all, devastation that we had to break the news to our children.

We still haven't told them this morning as we are waiting on other elements of the family to decide plans so we know what to say to them for "certain". But in my worry and upset over how to shepherd them through this latest crisis, my thoughts turned to this realisation:

It is not my desire to give my children happiness for Christmas.

It is not our goal as parents to make our children comfortable.

It is not our job to make the world safe and sound for our children.

It is our job to equip them for life in this broken world, to point them toward the refuge of God's love and to give them resilience through trust and faith in Jesus Christ.

This Christmas we may not be able to fulfil their expectations, but we can help them grow in love and understanding for our Saviour, the light of the world whose incarnation we especially remember in this darkest time of year.

That's uncomfortable for us as parents. I hate seeing my children upset and, let's be honest, I hate having to deal with it. It takes sacrifice to guide your children through tough emotions and disappointment. I need to model what I want to teach them - that I know what it feels like to have your hopes dashed, to die to self, crush my own desires in order to love them well, finding my joy and satisfaction in Jesus rather than in the comfort of happy kids who let me have a cuppa in peace.

Yes, our children have lost a lot of their childhood this year. But they have gained a lot too. They've seen us, their parents, being held up and strengthened by our loving Father God. They've seen our faith acted out in ways we haven't had the opportunity to demonstrate before. They've seen what it is to obey God even when it's excruciatingly difficult, trusting him to honour those choices. We've had many conversations around the meal table about just how much we have to be grateful for, focusing on the bounty of God's providence rather than complaining and griping about what we don't have. They've seen their parents upset and listened to us talk about our very real feelings and how we take those to God and find refuge in Him. They've been brought to the anchor and certainty of God's love on the Cross which holds in the stormiest of seas. They've been made to reflect on just how blessed we are materially, emotionally and spiritually, and grow in gratitude when it's tempting to moan. And they've been taught what it is to respect our politicians even if we wholeheartedly disagree with them (no, you can't call Boris Johnson a stupid man...).

So when we break the news to them about our changed Christmas plans, it won't be pretty, but I know I have a path we can walk with them. One that shows us this is happening because we live in a broken world, and the good news of the gospel is that Jesus came into that brokenness to give us salvation from it. This may be one of the darkest Christmases we will ever have, but the light of the Son shines even brighter because of that. The ground may be shifting beneath our feet, but his sacrifice on the cross and resurrection has won the victory securely already. It hurts living in this world. But we know the Man who will restore everything to perfection one day. I pray that instead of losing themselves in the short-lived comforts of this world, they would put their trust in Him and find eternal joy instead.