Sunday, 28 July 2024

Sunday

I wake up naturally and squirm and stretch away nightmares of work while savouring the realisation that today doesn't involve any.

Lazily moving downstairs to sounds of the dog yipping for my attention and his favourite garden bush, it's surprisingly clear that the day promises sunshine. I feed the cat who is clearly on the verge of total starvation and bring two cups of tea back upstairs. Plumping myself back in bed, I reach for the book I've nearly finished, and stayed up until midnight reading last night.

Blinds pulled up enough to let bright streams of summer in, we sip tea and chat while getting absorbed in our books by turns. Middle child brings the cat in purring, twice, who immediately runs away, twice. He will only cuddle on his own terms. He probably gets it from me. The dog has no shame or self-respect and is allowed to plant himself lengthways on our bed, his Sunday treat, for scraps of affection at any opportunity.  

Smallest and middle child come and go, citing Guinness World Book of Records facts and prodding the dog's ears until we chase them away to help themselves to breakfast, with the encouragement to consume food groups other than sugar.

I've finished my book and the sun is beaming at us now, beckoning us outside for our Sunday morning walk, so we acquiesce, unhurriedly. Sitting on the decking beforehand in the July warmth, contentment abounds. A Brazilian band are interviewed on Radio 6 by Cerys Matthews and suddenly I am overwhelmed by grief and nostalgia. I miss Brazil; I miss our family of four; I miss my grandparents. I feel like there are pieces of me in places I can't get to. 

But here I am home. 

We walk and talk, accompanied by our greyhound, up to the farm, where the chickens greet us territorially but politely. The dog and his nemesis, a particularly overbearing rooster, face off in the egg barn. We drop coins into the honesty box and select two full boxes of fresh eggs. Hidden away snugly between two hay bales are two feathery chickens, cuddling peacefully.

We take the dog for a run in the field nearby but he's more interested in trying to eat a stale slab of bread he's found than he is in taking any exercise. He probably gets it from me. We amble back home after picking up a couple of pints of milk at the village shop.

By the time we get home, the roast chicken in the oven smells divine and one of our children has clothes on. 

I think I'll make scones.


Monday, 21 November 2022

5 Reasons not to Despair for (Christian) (SEND) Parents

I decided to write this while I was sitting in my car crying, feeling that sense of despair that sometimes engulfs you when you have children with complex needs and are at the mercy of a merciless system. It felt like nothing would *ever* get better... on the back of two weeks of regressions and misery, we'd just had a disastrous afternoon with an Early Help worker from Children's Services - an intervention that we've fought hard to get - where our children were completing an "Anger Map" that just ended up making us all super angry with each other and left them frustrated, me drained and the Early Help worker looking slightly in need of her own intervention.

So while on the taxi shift waiting for our eldest to come out of Scouts, I sat and cried, and then I did what we should do so much more often and got on my metaphorical knees and prayed. God, HELP. I am out. Out of energy, out of myself. Please work a miracle. Lord, please just give us one good day, one good hour tomorrow. A bit of joy to stem the tide of relentless difficulty, tension, conflict, anger. I feel utter hopelessness at the future of our family, but I know I have to take each day at a time. You can do ANYTHING - please just give us one day of grace so we can regain our strength for the battle.

And it was then I decided that I would write this blog because sometimes it's incredibly frustrating when all the things you read about difficult times are written by people who have come out the other side. I'm still in this difficult time. We've come a long way from 18 months ago, but I'm by no means looking back on this years on with rose tinted glasses. 

Over the past couple of years these beautiful truths have been reasons not to despair. Some would say encouragements, but I know that for the SEND parent, God's word can often feel more like a lifeline that's pulling you back from the brink in the nick of time than anything else. So call them encouragements or reasons not to despair, depending on how near to the brink you are today.

1) Both us and our children have been given a solution to our biggest problem - and it's accessible and free

"Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved." - Ephesians 2:3a-5

Our child's biggest need is not an EHCP, OT assessment, CAMHS appointment, sensory room or speech therapy*. Our children's - and our - biggest problem is that we are sinners whose only way to heaven is to live a life of perfect good works and we can't live it. And the solution to that problem is already a done deal. We are saved by a life of perfect good works, but it isn't ours - it's Jesus' life. He lived perfectly, died and was raised back to life and still lives today, cheering us on at God's right hand. Sin is our biggest issue, and we have access to a free salvation for which there is no waiting list and no private appointment fee. Thank God. 

*All of these are extremely important for our kids too. But ultimately only Jesus can save them.

2) Jesus is gloriously inclusive

"There some people brought to [Jesus] a man who was deaf and could hardly talk, and they begged Jesus to place his hand on him.

After he took him aside, away from the crowd, Jesus put his fingers into the man’s ears. Then he spit and touched the man’s tongue. He looked up to heaven and with a deep sigh said to him, “Ephphatha!” (which means “Be opened!”). At this, the man’s ears were opened, his tongue was loosened and he began to speak plainly." - Mark 7:31-35

The most obvious act of love and compassion here is the miracle that heals this man, but in a recent sermon I was also moved by the other subtle but powerful description of Jesus' intimate knowledge and love of his fellow humans. "After he took him aside, away from the crowd..." This man would have found it very hard in a crowd to communicate, being deaf, and Jesus just knows his need and responds to it without even being asked. 

I think it's especially moving as children with additional needs and disabilities often too find large groups of people difficult or impossible to be in. Sometimes the world just expects them to get on with it and adapt, but Jesus doesn't. He sees the need and meets it without a word. He knows each and every one of our children and he gets it. So when you fight for reasonable adjustments for your kids, know that you're learning from the best. Jesus' inclusivity goes far further than this, too: through him it is possible for us all to have every spiritual blessing possible, beautifully curated for each individual, meeting the needs in their lives, eternally.



3) Your fight for your child is a mere shadow of God's fight for us

This is Jesus in John 17 praying for his disciples:

"Holy Father, protect them by the power of your name, the name you gave me, so that they may be one as we are one. While I was with them, I protected them and kept them safe by that name you gave me."

Any parent has a strong instinct to protect their children, and as an SEND parent that's multiplied a thousand-fold. But all our passion, our conviction, our anger and determination on behalf of our children is nothing compared to the Almighty power of God to protect us. Jesus fought temptation, despair, the desire for the cup of God's wrath to be taken from him, and submitted to death - for us. He did this so we are completely shielded from the power of sin and death, forever. And God is our children's protector too. Not only does he offer them salvation, by his grace he is capable of answering our prayers for our children more than we could ever imagine. That feeling you feel when your Mama Bear instinct rears up inside you - that's nothing compared to God's zealous love for His people and His power and desire to bless us.

4) Your value doesn't come from the quality of your parenting OR the judgement of other people

‘Do not be afraid; you will not be put to shame.

    Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated.

You will forget the shame of your youth

    and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood.

"Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,” says the Lord, who has compassion on you." - Isaiah 54:4-10

We have such high standards for ourselves as parents, and obviously in many ways that's good. But it's easy for us to slip into the trap of equating a healthy desire to be a good and effective parent with our ability to achieve that indicating our value as human beings. You are a valuable human being no matter how well or how badly you parent. You are worthy of dignity because you are an image-bearer of the living Almighty God. You are loved, deeply, intimately, more than you can imagine. On the days when you flop into bed feeling like a failure, know this and trust in it. 

This passage from Isaiah is particularly relevant because God is using a picture here of a woman who is despised by society for being barren and being a widow - both marks of shame in that culture. It's often mothers - and fathers - who are despised and shamed for their children's behaviour when they have additional needs. It's easy to take the judgement and criticism of others to heart and either despair because of it, or let that fear of people drive you to desperately stamp out certain behaviours in your children instead of listening to them and parenting them more holistically. 

God has always chosen to make the shamed of society his mighty instruments. David, a weak and small young boy, dwarfed by his macho brothers. Rahab, a disgraced prostitute. Mary, a young poor girl who faced the humiliation of pregnancy out of marriage. His power is made perfect through those who lack power. However ashamed others try and make you feel, know that God values you and is glorified through you and that he has chosen you to be his child and a unique and precious part of his amazing kingdom.

5) He tells us not to! 

"So do not fear, for I am with you;

    do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you and help you;

    I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." - Isaiah 41:10

"But you, O LORD, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head. I call out to the Lord,

    and he answers me from his holy mountain." - Psalm 3:3

The Bible is populated with people who are in despair. Elijah, David, Habbakuk, to name a few. And they have good reason to feel like this. But after every desperate call to the Lord to hear them, there is always an answer, and always a newfound conviction to trust, to rejoice, to wait in hope on the Lord. God tells us not to despair because he's predestined how it turns out - and because he planned and executed how it turned out on the cross and on Easter morning. One day he will wipe every tear from our faces. Before then, we live in this broken world, waiting in hope and crying out for the grace to live each day for Him, to take hold of the gospel for ourselves and our children, and to pray bold, expectant prayers in the power of the Holy Spirit. 

After my prayers in the car on Wednesday night, God did what he so often does, regardless of whether we ask Him to, and gave us some miraculous encouragements over the next few days. He is very very good. But even if those encouragements hadn't come then, even if we'd had another weekend of relentless difficulty, we'd still have plenty of reasons not to despair. 

God is our refuge and strength,

    an ever-present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way

    and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea.

Psalm 46:1-2

Thursday, 8 September 2022

The Bible says far more about justice for the poor than about gay wedding cakes

"When you harvest your grain, always leave some of it standing around the edges of your fields and don't pick up what falls on the ground. Leave it for the poor and for those foreigners who live among you."

Saturday, 3 September 2022

Even the best deaths are terrible

My grandad recently died what was a really good death, on paper. At the age of 86, surrounded by loved ones who had been constantly by his side for his final weeks and days, he passed peacefully from this earth. He had a steadfast faith in God and after years of cancer treatment was eager and ready to leave this life and meet Jesus. He had lived a full life, being a dad to four children and several grandchildren and great-grandchildren, enjoyed many hobbies and had stayed fit and active right up until the last few weeks of his life. Everyone who loved him had had the chance to say goodbye and tell him all the things that you want to say when someone is near the end. He did not die in pain. 

Theoretically, death doesn't often get better than this. The contrast to a phone call in the early hours with news of a car crash, or a sudden heart attack, or a suicide, is overwhelmingly different. No surprise, a good innings, and peace. 

Yet for those of us who had to say goodbye to grandad, it still feels all wrong. As my great uncle said, "Death is so bad!" It is. No matter how much we dress it up with thanksgiving services instead of funerals and clothes in a favourite colour instead of black, death is awful. It feels unnatural because it is; the grief of that relationship being over and missing that person is a corruption of humanity's history. Watching my grandad's body edge closer to death was very upsetting. His strength draining from him, weight falling off him, his ability to eat, speak, move and eventually losing consciousness, was complete anathema to the tall, strong man who had made his great-grandchildren scream with delight by rocking them on his knees. And still, the nature of his death is the best that we can hope for in this broken world.




There's a reason it feels so bad. Our bodies were not originally designed to die. Our souls and bodies were created to be united. We were created to live in perfect unity with the world, with God, and with each other. 

One look at the news and it's pretty obvious that didn't work out. So now we have to deal with the terrible, terrible reality that our lives come to an end. Our souls and bodies are wrenched from each other at the moment of death.

My great uncle didn't stop there. He said, "Death is so bad! Good thing it's been sorted!"

What does that mean? Because from where the rest of us are it can look like NOTHING is sorted right now. And whoever becomes our new Prime Minister on Monday will have a hard job sorting people's energy bills this winter, let alone the problem of death and decay.

The Bible says that death has lost its sting (1 Corinthians 15:54-55). What is the sting of death? The eternal separation of body and soul, the eternal suffering without God's presence and without human connection, traditionally known as "hell" (minus the cartoon pitchfork devil, because he'll be destroyed then too).

That sting is gone, if we believe in Jesus. He took on the rot and stench of physical death, and dealt with the consequences of all of our mess and sin and guilt on the cross. And, crucially, death could not hold him. He came back to life because he is God incarnate and by the Holy Spirit's power, he took the sting out of death. While our earthly bodies may die, our souls can go to be with Jesus, until he comes back again to transform our world into the new creation where we will be united with our renewed, imperishable bodies, and experience no more mourning, or sin, or sickness, or death. 

It doesn't ultimately help to try and take away the sting of death by sanitising it with white feathers and trite wall hangings and memes that rhyme, any more than I can bring grandad back to life by putting a plaster on him. But there is a real cure for it. And while death still hurts us, it doesn't have the victory any more - praise God.

The last time I saw my grandad, we stood around his bed singing his funeral hymns to him. Eyes filled with tears, he raised his fists in the air triumphantly at the lines, "When the Lord in glory comes... his voice when he appears, will be music to my ears." He lived well, he died well, and he's now in glory with God. He would have been the first to say he was a flawed man, who'd made many mistakes - he was by no means perfect. He would be the first to tell you that Jesus' death is for you, for everyone, no matter how messy, especially the messiest of us. 

"Christ... was not abandoned to the grave, nor did his body see decay. God has raised this Jesus to life... Therefore let all Israel be assured of this: God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ.

Repent and be baptised, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off - for all whom the Lord our God will call." - Acts 2:31-39

Wednesday, 5 January 2022

5 Easy (and Not so Easy) Ways to Support SEND Families You Know

If you are reading this blog, the chances are you know a family who lives with special additional needs or disabilities - this could be autism, ADHD, Tourette's, Sensory Processing Disorder, Down's Syndrome, Cerebral Palsy or anything and everything in between! Maybe you are that family, and you clicked on this link because you feel like you're drowning and you'd love to have an effective support network.

The fact is that hundreds of thousands of parents and carers in the UK are living in ongoing extreme conditions as they nurture their children with additional needs. Many of us will be traumatised, diagnosed with PTSD, anxiety, depression, burnout and other mental health issues. Most of us are on some kind of antidepressants. Many of us will suffer physical injuries because of our children's struggles, ending up with broken arms, bruises, cuts and scratches. We will see our other children suffer similar despite our best efforts to shield them. And we will all weep, sometimes on a daily basis, for our children who are battling through a world that is overwhelmingly non-inclusive, uncompassionate and cruel, because if we're struggling, it's guaranteed that they're struggling even more.

These situations make us feel extremely isolated, which is then exacerbated by the fact we don't feel we can really tell anyone what's going on at home. We want to protect our children's privacy and dignity, we know their behaviour is not their fault, and we know many people completely misunderstand their needs and our goals as parents. Child to parent violence is a huge taboo for many reasons. This means that often families in our situations are left in a constant state of exhaustion, struggling to keep our heads above water, and often taking it in turns to plunge into crisis.

So, we really need you, our friends and family. We really need support networks that believe us, know our needs, and are ready to mobilise. We need people who understand what would help without us having to spell it out when we can barely draw breath. 



We are very grateful to a plethora of people in our lives who have prayed, hugged, talked, sat with us, Whatsapped us day and night, dropped off meals, never ceased to say encouraging things, and sometimes just let our tears fall on their shoulders. We couldn't have made it through the last year without them, and I certainly wouldn't be well enough to be writing this blog, neither would our children be well enough to have returned happy from a great day at school, played together without any incidents all afternoon, and then gone to bed with no problems, falling quickly sound asleep. (And yes, we have melatonin to thank for that too, we aren't wizards...)

So here are 5 easy and not so easy ways to support your friends who face a parenting slog:


1) Believe us.

This may sound really obvious, but most SEND families spend our lives fighting to be believed, and coming up against far too many individuals and systems who just don't. Whether it's DLA claims that are fruitless, a SENCO who tells you they're fine at school, or an EHCP assessment application that's rejected again and again, we live our lives with the fear and constant experience of being disbelieved. When you're living with something so real it means your children live their lives in misery, you can't go to the toilet for hours, can't leave your children unsupervised for even a few seconds, and can't have anything made of glass in the vicinity, it's pretty demoralising not to be believed. What's more, we live with a constant inner voice questioning our sanity and telling us that maybe we are actually terrible parents and if we only got our act together our family would be Insta-worthy, so it's really difficult when external voices actually echo that lie.

Whatever your friends tell you, whether it's in passing, directly, on Facebook, or by any other method, accept what they're saying. Acknowledge it and empathise, ask questions if appropriate based on what they are telling you. Phrases like, "that must be really hard..." are more helpful than you even realise, because they are such a stark contrast to silence, or to denial. I have personally found it really lovely when family and friends have gone and looked up websites I've posted or told them about and read them, and then mentioned this to me and asked which bits were the same as our experience. This means so much! 


2) If you pray, pray for us.

If you are a person who prays, then please do pray for us. We made it to 2022, having learnt so much in 2021 and come so far, by riding on a wave of prayer from literally hundreds of people we knew. It scooped us up from rock-bottom and set us back on track countless times, pointing us back towards God and the strength of Jesus and the Holy Spirit. Sometimes we were too broken even to be able to pray ourselves beyond just groaning to God. But having people pray with us in person or on Zoom, tell us they'd prayed for us, write down prayers and send little texts and cards saying they were praying, truly kept us going, because God heard their prayers and he answered them, little by little, sometimes imperceptibly but always, always keeping us going through the next day. 


3) Say positive things, to us and to our children (and don't run away if we cry).

A hand on our shoulder, a whisper of encouragement that we're doing a good job - these are the little things that yield so much more than you would ever know. Every week at church, one of our friends told us we were doing an amazing job. Another good friend regularly tells me that she loves our kids and finds their creativity so inspiring, and that she really enjoys talking to them. Sometimes she's said this even when we've had an absolutely horrendous morning and everyone can see it. It means so much that people say kind things when we want the earth to open and swallow us. I'm well known for bursting into tears when people say nice things, but that's fine. I don't often cry at home because I have to keep it all in, and that's really unhealthy, so just lean into it and maybe come equipped with tissues and/or a cup of tea if you're planning on being nice. ;) If you want to say something to our children, don't be offended if they don't reply or even seem rude. Children like ours often find praise very difficult as they can have very low self-esteem, as well as often having social communication and interaction difficulties.


4) Observe who our children are, and connect with them in small ways.

We have many friends who gave little gifts to the girls during lockdown. Craft sets, sticker books, soft toys, chocolates and sweets, pens, the list is endless. Not only did this mean a lot to us, it was a lovely way of showing them they were loved, that didn't demand anything back.

Lots of children who are autistic or have ADHD will have some special interests they are really into. Our daughter knows every kind of cat and dog breed you could think of along with their characteristics. Anything involving cats connects with her, whether it's a picture on your phone of your cat, a calendar with cat photos, a cat soft toy or just an anecdote about a cat. She may not look or seem responsive, look you in the eye or reply at all, but it makes an impact. When she was in total crisis it was best for people to go via us so anything came from her most trusted people, but in being so kind, people have built up trust with her more and more and now she quite often interacts with our family and friends. For us it has made a big difference that even through the worst times, people still showered our children with kindness, without expecting anything back. This does have a long term impact, even if the short term result seems non-existent, and beyond that it means a lot to us as parents.

5) Be proactively practical.

As an SEND family, the usual support is often not applicable to us. Babysitting can often not be undertaken at all. You're too exhausted to go out anyway. For months neither of us could leave the house in the evening as we physically needed two of us to attempt bedtime. Children can't be taken out by others as their needs can be so specific.

As well as this, when you're completely burnt out emotionally and physically, it seems impossible to even think of what others could do to help, let alone ask. You feel like you're climbing your own personal mountain that no one else can see properly and you're so far up you're beyond any ropes being thrown to you.

This is where support networks carefully observing, checking and then proactively helping can be amazing. Everyone will be different in what their needs are, but here are some examples of what has helped and would help us:

  • People have ironed our clothes, done our washing up, come and dug up the lawn for us to put a trampoline in, and a variety of other practical things. It means we can invest our energy in looking after the children but then not still be faced with piles of housework at the end of the day.
  • We paid for a cleaner for ourselves for a while, but I'm very aware a lot of people won't be able to do this. If it's appropriate, offering to pay for a cleaner, gardener, laundry service or other practical things can be a godsend.
  • Take our other children out for a nice time, or come and be back up for one parent so the other can take them. For siblings these situations can be extremely challenging and it can be a lifeline for them to access "normal" settings where they can choose their own activities, be free and have some fun. Giving lifts for siblings to activities is also really helpful, as children with SEND often really struggle with transitions and car journeys.
  • Food is a huge huge issue for many families like us. Sensory issues mean it can be literally impossible to provide food for your family that anyone or everyone will eat. Cooking and eating becomes super-stressful and a really anxious time for everyone. One idea is to find out the exact brand and type of food your friend's children like (seriously get them to Whatsapp you pictures as it has to be the exact same!), and then drop off a few bags full for the freezer. Another thing we really appreciated was people dropping off nice meals for Aidan and I; even just ready meals were so lovely to have as it meant we could eat something we actually enjoyed, that I hadn't been drained by preparing, and *bonus* -  I didn't have to make 3 meals that night! Money can also be extremely tight as SEND families are far more likely to be single-parent families, and often one or more parents has to give up work in order to look after their children, and buying the exact right cereal/chicken nuggets/seamless socks can really add up.
  • Free us up to be our child's PA. So so so so soooo much time as a SEND parent is spent filling in forms, making phone calls, attending appointments, and the rest. And it's tiring and really sad. The autism assessment form is 19 pages long and has to be hand written. The DLA form is 48 pages long of you describing just how hard things are for your child. Having a friend in the house to make you cups of tea and look after your physical needs while you can crack on with these awful but necessary tasks, is a huge support. My mum helped print out, cut out and stick out all the DLA answers that I'd typed on the computer as I just couldn't face it. If we have to attend appointments, having someone to stay with siblings if possible is amazing. Dragging loads of kids to medical appointments is a total nightmare.
I'm so aware having written all this that we are immeasurably blessed with the support that we have and our own pretty comfortable situation. Even so, we've reached rock bottom a few times ourselves. Put yourself in the shoes of a single mum who's looking after multiple disabled kids, living in a tiny flat with no garden in the middle of lockdown, and I hope you can see just why supporting each other is absolutely necessary. You could literally be changing - and saving - people's lives.

As parents, we are our children's most important resource (as the amazing Yvonne Newbold says), and we need to be on as good form as possible to meet their needs. You can be a really big part of that. 

Obviously everything I've written here is very much personal and what people need will differ completely from person to person. It's always best to gently observe and ask before wading in, as not everyone will want the things above, and every family's needs are different. But I also thought it would be silly not to include any practical examples, so hopefully this strikes a useful balance.

One day I hope I can give back to everyone so much more than they've given us. I can't wait!

Tuesday, 4 January 2022

3 Ways Our (SEND) Parenting Should be Inconsistent (or it should look that way, anyway)

It's said that consistency is the key to good parenting, something which most parents can remember wryly forgetting on purpose as they give in to a screeching demand for screen time while trapped on the motorway in a stationary car. But consistency for SAND (special additional needs and disabilities) families does not look anything like the consistency we associate with "traditional parenting". Traditional parenting relies on children to have developed, or be developing at a fast pace, the skills of emotional regulation, adjustment to change, managing frustration and processing sensory information, to name a few. This means that when you put an allistic or neurotypical child into a time out for example, they can handle the feelings involved in this and process the punishment rationally, resulting in them accepting it, albeit reluctantly, learning from it and changing the behaviour next time.

However, most SAND parents will have found that despite several years of imposing consequences consistently, sometimes to an ever more punitive level, their children's behaviour has become more and more extreme, with violent meltdowns and what appear to be "overreactions" and "random" violence occurring with more and more frequency. What these families are often told, either overtly or tacitly by well-meaning friends, family and society, is that "what that kid needs is a decent smack", or something along similar lines: essentially, this anti-social behaviour is deemed to be due to soft parenting. This in turn leads the parents or carers, out of shame, guilt and often sheer desperation, to continue to enforce ever more weighty sanctions only to find to their exhaustion, dismay and the detriment of their physical and mental health that this only leads to worse behaviour.

How do I know this? Because this is what we tried to do with our daughter for 9 years. And nearly 1 year ago, when she entered into complete crisis which presented as rock bottom self esteem along with suicidal thoughts and detailed suicidal plans, extreme violence inside and outside of the home towards objects and people and animals, a severe regression in life skills such as eating, sleeping and dressing herself and almost a complete shutdown in verbal communication, we had to accept that we'd reached the end of the road of traditional parenting. During this time she was finally diagnosed as autistic with high impulsivity.

That's when we changed everything and realised that we had to become completely inconsistent - or at least look like it. What I hope you'll see is that all of these inconsistent strategies are part of one overarching consistent rule: meet your child's needs, at all times. It's worked wonders for us and I hope it helps for you, too. 

1) Be inconsistent with your expectations

Some childhood experts have a saying, "once a child can do something on their own, never do it for them again". To this I say, a big fat nope. Depending on how a child is feeling, how many triggers they've faced that day, what kind of change they are dealing with and therefore how high their anxiety levels are will massively affect their executive function - that is, their ability to independently achieve life tasks such as dressing, eating and organising themselves. If your child is having a day of low anxiety and feeling calm and motivated by events they are looking forward to, they may successfully manage to choose their clothes, wash, dress and pack their bag, for example. Conversely, on a school day where they are overwhelmed with anxiety, they may not even be able to get out of bed or go to the toilet independently. 

The inconsistency comes in meeting your child where they are at, whether that's making them a list to pack their own bag, or physically dressing them and feeding them. The consistency lies in the fact you are relentlessly loving them and meeting their needs. This builds huge trust between them and you, which is the only way they will eventually be able to progress to more independence, if this is possible. Trust is fundamental to the confidence and calm to raise executive function ability. NB: Sometimes it is right to completely remove the demand, such as letting them stay home from school if there is a particular event happening they cannot cope with. We can't confuse meeting need with forcing them into traumatic situations with our help. 


2) Be inconsistent with your routines

This one sounds especially strange given that a lot of children with additional needs need strong, reliable routines. I'm not suggesting we throw these out the window! But occasionally, a child may feel completely unable to complete a part of their normal routine - or a child with ADHD or high impulsivity may feel overwhelmed by the need to change things up. Ask yourself, is this a dealbreaker? Will the world stop turning if they don't have a wash today? Are we doing anything today that means they actually can't wear pyjamas? Can they eat this meal in front of the telly, or can I make them something quick and less messy that means I can accommodate their needs to do so?

It's paramount to adjust at times when your child is feeling like this, if it is possible to do so.




3) Be inconsistent with your discipline

With children such as ours, it takes a long time to learn who they really are, and how to meet their needs - and they're always changing! With the best will in the world, sometimes we give a natural or unnatural consequence (incidentally, natural consequences are usually the only strategy that helps, but that's for another blog) and our child literally cannot cope. The ensuing storm is not defiance but the desperate attempt at communicating of a child who has had something they perceive as essential taken away. This can change on an hourly basis depending on the child's anxiety levels at the time. Some days a consequence that may be appropriate, such as the removal of a privilege, may be coped with and learnt from. On another day, it may cause such distress as to be utterly futile as an attempt to shape behaviour. We're never going to get this right every single time but what's important is that we adapt and are willing to retract or change a punishment if we think our child is actually being traumatised by it. This takes a lot of nuance and built trust over time, and different communication strategies with your child to figure out the difference between distress and wilful resistance, but it will come.

We basically already implement these strategies to our adult friends already. Taking mental health days off sick from work is now rightly a thing. Cancelling plans because you feel ill is socially acceptable. Not forcing someone to eat something they feel sick when presented with is basic humanity. Yet we so often make inhumane demands of the youngest members of society and then impose draconian measures when they cannot comply, leading to huge trauma, both for neurotypical and neurodiverse children.

These strategies are complex and may seem difficult to learn and put into practice. But as Ross Greene, author of the brilliant Explosive Child says, you'll feel a lot more in control when you figure them out, and your child will feel a lot more secure.

In the Bible, God is described as knowing us intimately. Psalm 139 says:

You know when I sit and when I rise;

    you perceive my thoughts from afar.

You discern my going out and my lying down;

    you are familiar with all my ways.

Before a word is on my tongue

    you, Lord, know it completely.

We can never attain such perfect knowledge of our children. But we can become the ultimate experts on them. We can know them so well we have an innate sense of their needs and adapt accordingly. It's a joy to feel like we are so in tune with our children, and as my daughter says, "it makes everything feel better for me". This is the greatest privilege of parenting, not to find the easy or conventional way, but to truly know and love our children and meet their needs, even when it takes every last bit of our energy. Don't let the world get you down: your inconsistency in loving them is the very consistency your child needs.



Sunday, 14 March 2021

Here is my nothing of sexual harassment

Here is my nothing of sexual harassment.

The incidents that are invisible, intangible and don't exist in any record apart from my mind and heart.

Every woman reading this will have a list like this too.

It starts early. 12-year-old boys rooting through our bags in breaktime classrooms, gleefully finding our stash of Always and pulling it out with a jeer. What were they laughing at? Our wombs? The very organs that gave them the breath in their lungs that they now use to embarrass us for having female bodies.

I was an awkward, gangly, bespectacled, train-track wearing girl, painfully aware of my utterly unbeautiful self. Male hands poking you. "What's that on your chest? Oh, nothing!" accompanied by guttural laughter and kudos.

Fast forward a while. I've learnt how to be pretty now and work as a waitress. It's a nice pub. A middle class pub. Still full of men who hate women.

I bring the pudding menus over, written in chalk on mini-blackboards (it's part of the mass-produced quirky charm). "Are you on it love?" The bellows of drunken laughter echo round the table. No man would ever say this on his own. They work in packs; it's all about the power play. I never tell them I've heard their hilarious joke several times before. I don't say anything. Ever. Especially not when they ask how big I like my steaks. I scuttle, embarrassed, around the table, not meeting their eyes as I clear their plates, trying to lean in beside them as little as possible, feeling eyes combing over me. 

I walk into the glass-wash and there's my boss, pressing himself up against another waitress again while his wife works in the kitchen, thinking he's funny, thinking it's a game. He hates racism because he's from a traveller background. Misogyny's working out well for him so far though.

None of us say anything. We congregate in angry whispers around the dumb waiter instead, by turns ranting quietly, by turns each making fun of the men who've abused us to cheer each other up (ask him if he wears his steak on his head). 

I like going out clubbing most weeks. I love dancing with my friends. The entry price of the inevitable groping hands on your bum and unwanted crotch grinding up against you is silently accepted by all of us.

After shoving once such hand away on a night out a few years later I angrily point to my engagement ring. (Now I'd call this capitulation; is the absence of a ring acquiescence to sexual assault?) I quickly find out I'm a FRIGID BITCH - should I let my husband-to-be know?

I walk around my university city crossing the road to avoid any scaffolding and the hi-vis jackets that are filled with cat-calling men. 

You can't avoid the vans though... you're fair game to them. Horns honk, words are shouted, sometimes inaudible but enough to let you know you're not worth anything. Walking down the street becomes a game of roulette. My heart pounds whenever I'm anywhere on my own.

Apparently I don't smile enough.

I edit the university newspaper and leave the office at almost midnight every Wednesday after sending it to press. Walking alone through the pitch black campus I speak to my boyfriend the whole way home, giving him minute by minute updates so he can call the police with my exact location if I'm assaulted. We were all given rape alarms on arrival at university. I wonder if the boys were given instructions not to rape anyone?

Second year brings an online, anonymous, ongoing campaign of harassment on my public blog. One of the most memorable messages I received read, "We want to see you raped by a gang of syphilitic sailors who cut your legs off so you hobble around on the bloody stumps." 

Everyone tells me to go to the police so I do. They take it seriously but there are no resources to police anything online then so it peters out.

I take the pile of printed out evidence to the University harassment office. The woman who's Head of the department has stepped out but her colleague flicks through the sheaf. "This is just what you have to expect if you're editor of the paper", he says. My stomach drops. 

The Head of the Department walks in and asks to see what's going on. She takes one look at the papers and tells me it's harassment pure and simple. I feel relieved and broken.

Nothing comes of it. They can't formally identify the students even though I'm pretty sure I know who it is. I'm told one option is for me to tackle it myself in a team meeting.

For a while I'm dazed, paranoid and highly anxious, not knowing when the next comment is going to drop, not knowing who's writing the stuff but knowing they're close to me, totally unable to relax in any situation. 



Since I've been married and had kids the incidents have been far fewer and farther between. Save for a drunken man shoving himself up against me on a seat on a train and stroking my leg while singing to me, and a few cat calls, life is calmer now. 

But every time I get in the car I check the back seat.

Every time my car's idling and a man's walking past I flick the lock switch.

Every time I have to walk past a group of men my heart still pounds.

I don't walk anywhere at night on my own, save around my immediate neighbourhood where I know someone on every street.

If I hear footsteps behind me on brief walks when I have to walk in the dark, I pretty much have an anxiety attack.

A few weeks ago a man stared at me in town and said, "so pretty, Jesus Christ". I felt weak, violated, and panicked, and my first thought was "it's my fault for putting some nice makeup on today". 

That epitomises what it is to be female. To feel used and devalued and to blame ourselves, because of how society has been set up.

Throughout my teenage years and twenties, my peers and I just accepted that was how things were. You went out, you got groped. You walked down the street, you got yelled at. We never liked it but we never ever questioned it. It wasn't until the #metoo movement that I think a lot of us woke up to the fact that this was never ok, and for myself I not only felt anger at the men who had conducted this gross wrongdoing but anger and upset at myself for accepting it. 

The point is that none of this stuff is a statistic. None of it is a rape or a murder and I'm not coming close to suggesting it's anywhere on the same plane and carries anywhere near the level of trauma that has been inflicted on survivors of these things by male perpetrators.

The point is that it may be invisible but it's absolutely life-changing. 

Assault and abuse doesn't need to get to the stage of rape and murder before it traumatises someone because it IS violence and it traumatises and traps and makes women slaves to fear even at this level. If a man is happy to swear at you in broad daylight, how far would he go in a dark alleyway at night? We're enlightened enough now to understand, to the extent that the law recognises it, that abuse can occur with no physical scars. But when it comes to misogyny and sexual harassment, we as a society have for too long completely ignored and failed to recognise the impact that sustained, life-long abuse has on women's quality of life, even when it doesn't make it onto a police report. It leaves scars.

I believe that Jesus Christ, when he was on earth, was a radical when it came to women and is a radical now who invites women to come to him and be unconditionally loved. The gospels show him time and time again valuing women where society vilified them, welcoming women where powerful men spurned them, comforting women where others ignored them, and honouring women where others disparaged them.

It's no coincidence that women were the ones that God chose to first have the privilege and blessing of seeing the resurrected Jesus. A woman was the way God chose to bring his Son into the world. 

I wholeheartedly believe in fighting for societal change because I believe that God's pattern for humankind was not the mess of misogyny and inequality we have currently. 

But realistically we're going to be left with some degree of this mess until Jesus comes back. So ultimately it's God that my comfort comes from. I know that the most powerful Man in the universe sees me as a precious, loved and valued woman. He created me with this body and this mind and this soul and he never, ever makes me feel hurt or devalued or worthless. In fact, he gave his life for me and for anyone who trusts in Him. 

I woke up this morning feeling utterly exhausted. The news of Sarah Everard's senseless killing, allegedly by a male police officer, the subsequent outpouring of women's trauma, the sense of people refusing to listen and the sense of despair was last night capped off by the Met police violence in response to the peaceful vigil. It's left me and many others feeling again the weight of the problems we face and the brokenness of the world. 

God cares. He sees. He will have his way and he will right every wrong one day. In the meantime, we wait, we comfort one another and we do what we can to fight for what's right. While we work and grow weary, I found this song really helpful tonight. While I am a woman and I am tired and I am sad and I am tempted to despair I will lean hard in his everlasting arms. 

He lavishes grace as our burdens grow greater
He sends us more strength as our labours increase
To added afflictions He offers more mercy
To multiplied trials He multiplies peace
When we have exhausted our store of endurance
When our strength has failed and the day is half done
When we've reached the end of our earthly resources
Our Father's full giving is only begun
Our Father's full giving is only begun
So lean hard
Lean hard
Lean on the everlasting arms
Lean hard
Lean hard
Lean on the everlasting arms
Lean on the everlasting arms
His love has no limits, His grace has no measure
His power has no boundary that's known unto men
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus
He giveth and giveth and giveth again
He giveth and giveth and giveth again
So lean hard
Lean hard
Lean on the everlasting arms
Lean hard
Lean hard
Lean on the everlasting arms
Lean on the everlasting arms
You lead me beside still waters
Your goodness restores my soul
I know that you'll never leave me
I know that you won't let go
You lead me beside still waters
Your goodness restores my soul
I know that you'll never leave me
I know that you won't let go
So lean hard
Lean hard
Lean on the everlasting arms
Lean hard
Lean hard
Lean on the everlasting arms
Lean on the everlasting arms
Lean on the everlasting arms


Monday, 4 January 2021

Covid:19 - How do we actually "take each day at a time"?

Schools are shutting, again. With this announcement comes the all too familiar mix of dread, anger, sadness and worry for parents and children up and down the country. This time we know it's for a minimum of seven weeks, bringing us to February half term. Seven weeks in Covid-homeschool-land feels like millenia. Having homeschooled my three in Lockdown 1.0 (the original and the best), and gone through a fair few bubbles bursting and isolations, I totally get it. What started off as a novelty quickly became an anxiety-riddled, loud, messy mess for most UK households.

It's easy to call to mind the old adage, "take each day at a time". It's never been more important, both for our spiritual and mental health, to put this into practice. Seeing the next seven weeks, or the next few months of pre-vaccine territory, as one giant depressing block, is unhealthy for us all.

So how do we actually just take each day at a time, when it seems impossible not to let our minds wander to the future and consume us with dread?

First, we can take hold of Biblical truths, familiarise ourselves with them, meditate on them and keep reminding ourselves of them. Second, there are some more practical tips that I have found helpful I will share.


Biblical Truth #1 - Do not worry about tomorrow... seek first the Kingdom of God

The Bible has its own version of the phrase "take each day a time".  It says, "Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own". (Parents everywhere can agree on that one!) Now I want to be the first to say that when Jesus says this in Matthew 6 it is not in a condemnatory way to shake a stick at those who worry. It's a reassuring and loving verse in which he's talking about his Heavenly Father's provision for us. God is a conscientious, generous and loving provider for his people. "Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature... But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you."

So, we need not worry because God is a loving Father. And our focus needs to shift from obsessing over our own needs to seeking first the kingdom of God. I can't tell you what that looks like for you, but for me it means striving to point my children towards Christ during this tumultuous time, growing my trust and faith in Him even when it's hard for me, and keeping anchored in the word and in prayer each day. It means being outward-looking to others in our church and neighbourhood in how we can care for them.


Biblical Truth #2 - Cast your anxieties on Him

Here's how we really know Jesus wasn't telling his followers off for worrying... Elsewhere, in 1 Peter 5:7, we are told "Cast all your anxieties on [God], because he cares for you". God knows that we will have anxieties! Worrying happens. But we can take it to God and entrust him with our cares. When our minds start to wander to those big dark blocks of time, we must take it to Him. This can be hard, repetitive work, especially on bad days. But he's right there waiting to listen, ready to care and take our burdens on himself. God is sovereign over everything and he's bigger than Coronavirus and bigger than homeschool so He's the perfect person to talk to about it. Just as our children trust in our care and provision for them and prove so adaptable as a result, we can trust completely in our Heavenly Father's care for us. We can cry to him, we can tell him how terrible we feel, we can ask him for help, we can praise him for the good things no matter how small - all is welcomed by Him.


Biblical Truth #3 - the Israelites were only allowed to pick up enough Manna for each day


Exodus 16:4 - "Then the Lord said to Moses, “I will rain down bread from heaven for you. The people are to go out each day and gather enough for that day. In this way I will test them and see whether they will follow my instructions. On the sixth day they are to prepare what they bring in, and that is to be twice as much as they gather on the other days.”

This may be #3 but this is the truth my mind has turned to more than any other over the years. When the Israelites were wandering in the desert, God sent manna - white, bread-like wafers - down from Heaven to feed them, along with quail. They could collect what they needed for that day, and then the manna would fall again tomorrow. On the day before the Sabbath they could collect two days' worth to tide them over so they didn't have to work on the Sabbath day. But if they tried to pick up extra and store it at any other time, it would be full of maggots the next morning.

Why? God wanted them to trust him daily. Not to have a backup plan or an insurance policy in case his mercy and goodness didn't come through. Every night they went to bed, having to trust that tomorrow the manna would come again. And it always did. Because "The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases... his mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning" (Lamentations 3:22-23).

God's mercies truly are new every morning. And we must not try and make the grace for each day cover all of our tomorrows. His grace is new each day and we get up each morning and trust him for that day. I'm not saying we don't plan for the future, but those plans rest in His sovereignty and grace for each day.



I hope these Biblical truths are encouraging to you. They have been a huge comfort to me for years and especially during this pandemic when everything is so uncertain.

Now here are some practical tips that I find helpful and may help you too.

Tip #1 - Start the Day Well


I know this isn't for everyone, but I try and get up before the kids. I have a cup of tea while it's quiet and read my Bible and pray. I know others like to simply watch the sun rise or meditate. The Biblical truths I wrote about above easily slip away from our thought patterns, and sometimes it takes effort to keep recalling them and anchoring our days in them. If I'm rudely awoken by the children and go straight into full throttle family life, my brain never gets into the right gear, meaning not only do I forget everything I know about taking each day at a time, but I'm more likely to be impatient and frustrated with the children too. Everyone is different but this works for me. If it's better to get the kids breakfasted and dressed and plonk them in front of the TV for half an hour while you focus, do that.


Tip #2 - Plan for a week, break down to a day

There are generally things we know we have to get done each week, and it would be foolhardy not to have some kind of big picture plan going on. For example, this week I know I have to make a two-tier birthday cake with matching cupcakes and macarons, schedule a service visit for the house alarm, meal plan, pay money into the bank, shop for ingredients, complete the church accounts, and so on. So I write this list out and then I allocate tasks to each day.

Breaking it down into days means it's less overwhelming and I can stop worrying about when I get stuff done because I've planned it. If things need to be flexible, of course it's fine to swap tasks if appropriate on the day. It's better than just writing a big list out without any focused idea of when you'll get stuff done, and it's better than not writing a list at all and just winging it, because if you're anything like me both of those options mean massive stress. I literally plan out hour blocks when I'm going to do specific bits of my work and plan activities for the kids then (e.g. kids watch a movie - I ganache and cover a cake in fondant). Try and plan your tasks according to your energy levels. We all do way better in the mornings so I plan for more standing up tasks then and then after lunch more low energy jobs like computer admin. Some days it will all go pear-shaped. That's ok too - try and have some contingency in so there's some leeway.

Tip #3 - Accept that some days it will all be terrible for a while

Let's cut ourselves some slack. We're living through something no one else has ever faced before and our poor kids have borne the brunt of a lot of it. When I find my perfectionist standards rearing their ugly heads I just have to tell myself, come on, give us all a break. I'm not saying don't have any boundaries as that will only backfire on you, but definitely pick your battles and sometimes just accept that everyone's going to have a difficult day. I find it's best on those terrible days to offer everyone chocolate and lots of TLC and do whatever feels kind to ourselves. At the end of the day we are all just trying to survive and get through this and knowing that some days won't go at all to plan is essential for our mental health. Having a terrible day does not mean all the days to come will now be terrible. If there's anything Coronavirus has taught us, it's that life is a rollercoaster and we just gotta ride it.


Tip #4 - You're going to lose the plot sometimes and that's ok

I have yelled, so much, at my kids during the last year. Well let's face it, during the last 10 years. Despite having just written Tip #3, I still have plenty of days where I just lose it and scream at my whole family when it all gets too much. In these times I come to the Bible and read with hope the words "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us". I can't take it back but I do ask my children for forgiveness, with no strings attached. I know that actually it's important for them to see us mess up and ask for forgiveness, because they're also going to mess up and they need a model of how to deal with that mess. They do not need perfect parents. They need parents who are sorry and humble when they make mistakes. So yes, be sorry, but do not beat yourself up with a standard that's impossible. It's important not to have it in our heads to strive for a great streak of perfection. Part of taking each day at a time is that no matter what went before, each day is a new day. Thankfully.


...And forgiveness seems like a good note to end on. The next seven weeks of homeschool are doubtless going to contain a lot of yelling, a lot of messy behaviour, and sin, and resentment, and despair, and arguing. (Hopefully they will also contain a lot of precious and fun moments too.) But God knows we aren't perfect and He's right there waiting with forgiveness, and a clean slate each morning. He loves us so much, in our imperfection, that he sent us His Son to take the punishment for all our sin and give us his own righteousness. And nothing can separate us from that if we believe in Him. I'm praying that truth will be the rock we all build on in the next few stormy weeks and months.


Wednesday, 23 December 2020

Different reactions can be equally glorifying to God

You may have guessed I'm a bit of an emotions junkie, judging by blogs I've written before touching on sadness and grief. If you've spent any time with me in real life, you'll know the English stiff upper lip eludes me - my upper lip is usually wobbling in preparation to cry in response to anything that demands sympathy, and if I'm joyful, enthusiastic or indignant, you'll probably know about it.

I've spent a lot of my life feeling guilty about being so emotional and feeling like it's incompatible with being a Christian to embrace these feelings. I think this is more to do with British culture than the Bible; the human beings we get to know in both Old and New Testaments exhibit the full raft of strong emotions, and lived in cultures that were far more expressive than ours. Death was greeted with weeping and wailing, victories were celebrated with dancing, and arguments were thrashed out passionately. To be honest I think David, Job and the Apostle Paul would have been made to feel pretty uncomfortable in a lot of our English churches! 

When we go through tough times in life, I think we become even more self-critical of our responses as Christians - and probably as people in general. We aspire to a calm serenity in the face of trouble, looking to be "strong" like "a rock" (rocks don't have many emotions last time I checked). Being uncomplaining in the face of physical discomfort is especially venerated. These cultural values mean that displays of sadness, upset, confusion, anger and frustration can often be interpreted as sinful or immature.

I've been reflecting recently on how a whole plethora of human responses can be equally valid and wholesome. As Christians, what should our responses be? Glorifying to God. And there is no one size fits all way to achieve this. Being God-glorifying rests on trusting Him, submitting to His sovereignty, and enjoying his good gifts and attributes in the midst of human life - both in our joys and sorrows. And all these are possible while experiencing the whole spectrum of human feeling.

As a microcosm of this, I want to reflect on the last few days in our life, when my husband has been quite ill with Covid. The difficult backdrop to this can be found in this blog here, in which I outline just how difficult the last months of restrictions have been for us. After a strenuous and exhausting year, we're capping it off with a bout of horrible illness and exhaustion and a Christmas spent in isolation.

When we first got Aidan's test results on Sunday, I had an overwhelming supernatural peace. I had to take the decision to cancel and refund all the Christmas orders my home baking business had booked because it wasn't safe or legal to work on and distribute them. I had to tell dozens of customers that their Christmas goodies were being cancelled. Yet I had total and utter peace about this decision. I didn't even feel upset. I lost hundreds of pounds worth of business and felt a strong reassurance from God that this was all in his hands.

I was able to be completely at peace and selfless on Sunday and it was easy. I know so many people were praying for us that day and I attribute this peace to God entirely. One could say this is definitely a "God-glorifying" response in the culturally defined way, and I hope that is the case.

The next day, Monday, I woke up feeling absolutely hopeless and wretched. After months of not being able to socialise with other humans and weeks of not even being able to go to a café for a cuppa, the idea of being confined to the house single-handedly looking after three grumpy little humans, nursing a very poorly husband, running the house and getting ready for Christmas seemed a pretty desolate prospect. I was anxious that I would catch the disease and also get poorly (I am asthmatic) and not be able to cook Christmas dinner! I was conscious of the possibility of the long-term effects of Covid on Aidan. All day that day I felt like I was on the edge of hysteria; that if I stopped and thought about things too much, I'd burst into tears, so it was best just to keep going.

Both days I had got up and read my Bible and prayed. Both days I kept throwing myself on God and his grace. Both days I was reminded of His goodness, faithfulness and His unchanging nature in the face of the storm. Both days, I am sure people were praying for me.

So why one day the peace and the next the turmoil?

First, because God made me who I am! God made me with all these emotions and responses. He knew what He was doing. To fight against that and berate myself is actually to berate God for his idea of what this creation should be. And because he made me like this, it must mean that...

Both can be equally glorifying to God in different ways. One day the peace came easily - that was God's good gift. The next, I had to fight to cling on to Him - that was God's good gift of me growing in maturity. When people texted me on both days and asked me how I was, I had completely different responses. It was probably more uncomfortable for them to read my more upset messages on Monday than the happy peaceful ones on Sunday, but actually it means that they know what I'm facing and can see that I'm still trying to trust God and keep going in the face of adversity.

Jesus wept. I think of that verse so much. Jesus didn't live on this earth and ascend to Heaven to intercede for us so that our humanity lost its defining features. He got angry, he got sad, he got hungry and tired, he loved, he laughed and he cried. We have a great high priest who sympathises with our weakness. When we are weak, when we are sad, God is strong; he comforts us.

Yet we spend so much of our time trying to pretend we don't have this weakness! And therefore because we so often don't share these feelings and experiences, the idea that everyone else is a rock of stability grows and so does the guilt about our own difficult times.

For too long we have measured our glorification of God by our outward suppression of emotion. Actually what demonstrates our trust in God is not whether we are crying or putting a brave face on it, but whether our hearts are His. External calmness and "peace" can often be a veneer which hides a lot of anger and turmoil underneath too. God sees our hearts. He knows whether they are trusting in Him under the tears that are falling or the lip that is stiff. 

This is so encouraging to me. He has made each and every one of us completely unique. No two people can glorify God in exactly the same way; this is one reason each life is so precious. We all reflect a different part of our Creator. Whether we are naturally calm, or naturally emotional, we are all wonderfully made. Getting to know each other and understand each other in this may be challenging at times, but ultimately it's God-glorifying as we understand how each of our personalities reflects his image. And whether we are that "rock" or the emotional shipwreck (me), what matters is where our hearts and heads are at. 

Trusting in God may sometimes mean calmer waters and sometimes it may mean clinging on for dear life as we are buffeted around, and sometimes it's a bit of both. Thankfully he is the anchor in the storm no matter what. 

Tuesday, 22 December 2020

No Man is an Island

I wrote this piece for the Thought for the Week in Keighley News a while ago, which unfortunately isn't available online, so here it is in blog form.


“No man is an island”, said John Donne a long time ago, and then the main character played by Hugh Grant in About a Boy more recently. 2020 has definitely shown us just how much we need community and relationships. Some of us have spent weeks without the touch of another human being; mothers have found themselves constantly accompanied but feeling lonelier than ever without support; children have been separated from their friends; and grandparents have sorely missed the noise and mess of their grandchildren.

It’s a scientific fact that loneliness is bad for us – research has found that it increases the risk of premature death by around 30%. We need each other, and as great as Zoom is, it certainly doesn’t live up to a hot cup of tea at someone’s kitchen table or a shoulder to cry on.



Why do we need relationship so much?

The Bible tells us that we were created for relationship. God himself, as Father, Son and Holy Spirit, has always loved and been loved, spoken and heard. Genesis tells us that we are made in His image. We are each precious and we are not meant to be alone. We are designed to be in relationship with God, and with each other. Sadly the mess and madness of this world are often barriers to this. We may not know God and we may disappoint each other. But if the last few months have taught us anything, it’s just how important it is to love and be loved, to speak and to listen.

That shoulder to cry on might have to wait for now as we face more restrictions, but thankfully nothing, not even Coronavirus, can separate us from the love of God. He invites us all to be in his family: Creator and creation, Father and child. As his children we aren’t alone; he gave us each other. And one thing’s for sure: I’m not going to take any of those cups of tea for granted ever again.

 

Sunday, 20 December 2020

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.



Thursday, 5 November 2020

God's Sovereignty is not a Get-Out-of-Politics Card for Christians

Hours ago, the President of the United States stood up at a press conference and told lies. He lied about the postal votes in the US election being illegal, he lied about controlling the Senate, he lied about the Democracts stealing the election and he lied about voter suppression and interference. Ironically, the one truth he told was concerning the record number of Republican women being elected - seeing as just days before the election he sniggered while warning that it would be terrible to have a Democrat in the White House - "especially female".

It is tempting for Christians to invoke the sovereignty of God as a comfort blanket that we put over our heads to block out the noise and roar of worldly politics. God is in control, so we can passively let the elections happen and the leaders speak. We can cast our vote and do our bit, we may email our MP once in a while - but other than that we accept bad stuff will happen, they'll mess up and we chalk it up to living in a broken world that Jesus will come back and fix one day. For now, we'll just muddle through.

The Sovereignty of God is more like a two-edged sword than a comfort blanket. It cuts to truth through lies. It's a lamp exposing the darkness, setting a standard far above what we can expect on earth. In an age where truth is at stake and the very concept of truth is being eroded, the existence of God is what we pin our belief in truth on as Christians. We know God to be just, and justice to have an absolute definition. We know him to be good and to demand fair treatment for the poor, alien, fatherless and the widow. God's sovereignty is what gives us a moral framework that we believe to be an absolute truth.




Why do we fall into the trap of using God's sovereignty as a get out clause to not engage with politics? Several reasons I think.

Firstly, in the post-war era we have lived in a time where in the Western world, there has been a general political and social consensus that is fairly moderate. Leaders such as Thatcher, being clearly more to the right, invoked far more unrest, but generally speaking we have not seen a fascist or communist threat having any chance of power for decades. This has lulled Christians and probably the population at large into a false sense that we can sit back and relax. Unfortunately, with populist far-right parties on the rise and polarisation intensifying, this is no longer true.

Second, we have fallen into the cultural trap of thinking "they are all the same". With lies and corruption periodically exposed, such as the MP's expenses scandal in the UK, there is a growing feeling that all politicians are as bad as each other. The Christian community has even more impetus to think in this way as, adhering to a set of beliefs that are at odds with societal norms, we have a sharp sense of being culturally different anyway which throws the political realm into less focused perspective. 

Third, we often forget that eternal life starts in this world. There can be a false sense of just "passin' through" this life to get to eternity. In reality we are saved now, life to the full starts now, and God's kingdom is coming on earth now. Even the new earth will be a real, physical place. The physical world we are in now is designed for us to steward, subdue and rule, in line with God's good principles. This is particularly pertinent to issues such as environment. Simply because we know God has promised to renew or remake the earth is not a free pass to destroying the planet. Rather, because we know God values the planet so highly, so should we.

There are probably other more general reasons like politics sometimes being difficult to understand and there being a regretful lack of education on this area in our school system and homes. It can seem like a different realm for a different kind of person, and the people who have the power tend to want to keep it that way to protect their interests.

Here's why God's sovereignty propels us into political engagement rather than away from it.

1) God is truth and as his people it's our calling to proclaim this in the world. What is truth? This very notion is under threat. Yesterday Trump's tweets were labelled 7 times by Twitter as spreading misinformation. When the most powerful person in the world can stand straight-faced at a Press Conference and lie about facts that are so easily checked, it is obvious that truth is under threat - and sadly his followers buy into everything he tweets and says. Social media has enabled evil people to weaken truth with its lightspeed dissemination of misinformation and our lack of propensity to check what we are reading. I've fallen into this trap as I'm sure you have too. If you watch The Social Diliemma, their rallying call is to find truth, interestingly. As people of the Word, we know what truth really is. This means calling out lies when we see them. For a UK example, take the lie in the Leave campaign that the NHS would get £350 million extra a day from leaving the EU, and Tony Blair's illegal Iraq War was based on the lie that Saddam Hussein had weapons of mass destruction (he didn't). We went to war on an untrue premise which cost hundreds of thousands of lies and has left Iraq (and the Christian church there) devastated.

2) God is just and he calls out injustice throughout his Word in the strongest terms. The evil that God spends the most time denouncing, both in the Old Testament and as the man Christ, is unjust and cruel treatment of the poor. People often talk about the "moral issues" being of Christian concern, meaning abortion and gay marriage. The economy IS a moral issue. How we spend and organise our money as a nation is the most fundamental and far-reaching moral issue in question. We must pray for justice and act for justice, knowing that that either outcome will be applied to our Christian brothers and sisters as well as every precious human being in our nation. The recent report about anti-semitism in Labour under Corbyn, written after hundreds of survivors of systemic racism within the party submitted robust evidence of the mistreatment they had suffered, should shock, sadden and motivate us. We must stand with them and other survivors of injustice.

3) God is good and he defines goodness. He is kind, he is loving and he values each human being. Compare this to Boris Johnson calling black people "piccaninnies", gay men "tank-topped bum boys" and compared Muslim women wearing the niqab to "letterboxes". Donald Trump has boasted of sexually assaulting women, saying, "Grab 'em by the pussy...when you're a star, they let you do it". What a heinous abuse of power. He said these things before he got elected. Not all politicians are the same. There are men and women who are kind, and good, and have integrity - more than others. John McCain, the Republican who lost to Barack Obama, made one of the most gracious concession speeches in history, praising Obama, rejoicing over the election of an Black president and calling for unity. Simply because everyone is sinful and the world is fallen does not mean it is impossible to find people with better characters than others. Again, because we have lived in an era of relative democratic consensus and peace for several years, people tend to think that now all politicians fall into an area of moderation. They do not any more. We are on a real trajectory towards nationalism and authoritarianism and unrest and if we do not speak up for these values then we contribute towards a very dangerous path.

The one time that Christian leaders do most engage in politics is when our own freedoms are at stake. The basis for this activism is usually that the government's actions are violating our own constitutional law, such as the most recent move to argue legally that churches meeting is an essential service and that lockdown of our services violates freedom of worship. If we believe it's worth fighting for when it affects us personally, surely we should fight for justice when it affects the most vulnerable? There are many Christian organisations that do this; Hope at Home which works to protect the human rights of trafficking survivors is one such example. But I do not think that these issues should be solely the domain of specific charities. If Christian church leaders speak up when the injustice reaches our mostly middle-class, affluent churches, should they not speak up for the most vulnerable too and speak out against the utter evil and lies that are being propagated by those with the most power?

John Piper recently wrote an article condemning "flagrant boastfulness, vulgarity, immorality, and factiousness" as "self-incriminating, but also because they are nation-corrupting. They move out from centers of influence to infect whole cultures. The last five years bear vivid witness to this infection at almost every level of society." He wrote that he would not be voting for Trump or Biden based on their values. This is sorely overdue and very much needed and welcome. The Christian church should and must be standing up against this kind of vile leadership.

We often shy away, or are told to shy away, from talking about politics or "being political" because of the risk of division. Of course, Piper has received a huge backlash, but that kind of division is the right kind. To oppose violence and cruelty we must divide. Jesus was incredibly divisive. He constantly called out the religious leaders for their hypocrisy, injustice and mistreatment of the people. He ended up being killed by them, he was that divisive. Unity in this sense can only accelerate us in a dangerous direction. Of course, when we talk about these things we must put every effort into doing so in a respectful and gracious manner - something that is difficult when the issues are emotive and the stakes are high, but all the more important because of that. We have the Gospel and Jesus as the source of grace to oil the wheels of conversation.

The Christian church is called to have a prophetic voice. We must speak to eternal matters, and eternal matters start now. What do we have to offer? The God we serve offers truth, justice and goodness and we must show that now. Unless that pervades the earthly sphere of politics it is meaningless to people, and rightly so. We've lost our voice in recent years, and it's no coincidence that meanwhile society has plummeted down a trajectory of untruth and corruption. We must pray and act so that we find it again.