Insert witty title here

Hi. So it's been a while. I've been tired lately. I've just been really, really tired for what feels like forever. And finding the time, and the things to say, knowing what to say and what to leave unsaid is tricky at the moment.

I'm not in the throes of depression. But lately, for the past few months really, I have just felt like I am slogging away, walking in really thick, goopy mud, you know? And it's not necessarily the goopiness of the mud that gets me. It's more the fact that it feels never ending. And even though I know, (I know!) that everyone is walking through their own version of goopy mud, sometimes it feels a little like I'm here slogging uphill and somehow sliding further back, and yet other people manage to race all the way to the top in no time.

Comparison truly is the thief of joy.

I love my family. I really, really do. They make my life immeasurably better. But sometimes (lots of times) my dealings with these people who I love so dearly, make me painfully aware of my own shortcomings.

I want to write about Georgie who is four going on fourteen, and the loveliness and hideousness that that entails. I want to write about my boy, who some days makes me want to squish him because I just love him so much, and other days makes me want to squish him because he just drives me so damn crazy. I want to write all the stuff that is sitting in my head making me crazy, but I just don't even know where to start. And I can hardly even write a sentence here without yawning my head off. I swear I feel like I'm more tired now than I was with my newborns.

I need God properly. My relationship with Him is there. But it feels like I'm using really dodgy internet service or something, you know? Not sure what's to be done about that.

But anyway, tomorrow is a new day. And if I'm going to face it with any sort of equanimity, I need to go to bed. Goodnight Internets.

I think God made me so he'd have someone to laugh at

It's no secret that I'm really good at doing stupid things. I seem to have a gift for it. So the other day, I read about the iPhone auto-correct prank. Now, in our household all the apple devices are connected, and I figured out that I could change Shane's phone from my Ipad.

It started off as harmless enough, I changed the word 'yes' to 'no' and the word 'please' to 'monkeys'.... silly funny stuff. We had fun, and then it kind of escalated.... and I may have changed the word 'Shane' to a very bad word indeed. Shane then changed the word 'Robyn' to the words 'I'll give it any way you like.' (Yes, we are inappropriately minded teenagers at heart) It was terrible, but it was funny, and it was only ever supposed to be between us.

But, of course, a few days later I sent an email to my pastor, just a trivial two line email. And as I typed the word 'Robyn' at the end of the email and pressed send, I watched in horror as I realised that the words at the bottom of the email did not say 'Robyn' but 'I'll give it any way you like'. I was stricken with horror at what I had just done, and spent several minutes trying to think about how I could change it. I had just told my pastor, my pastor, "I'll give it any way you like!!" But you know, email, once sent cannot be unsent. I called Shane, who just about killed himself laughing, and he helped me word another email of apology that I sent off straight away.

Sometimes I just shouldn't be allowed to do.... anything.

Too much information

There can be a mentality in the pentecostal church today that you have to "give your all!" "Go Hard!" "Give God all you've got!" and it is true. But maybe also, kind of not? I think the message gets a bit garbled at times, I'm not sure who's fault that is. I want to give God my all, I think he deserves it. But there are different kinds of all to give. Sometimes, if you push, and push, and push, eventually something breaks. Say you have a car, and you're driving along fine. But suddenly you make it go faster than it was supposed to go, you're revving it up, and expecting so much of it, and while you're doing that you don't add things like oil, or water or anything like that, you just keep putting the minimum amount of care into it. Eventually that motor is going to get fried. If you'd kept the car at a steady speed, and given it regular thorough maintenance, it could have gone so much longer,  and so much further. But you didn't, and now it's going to take a whole new motor just to get that thing going. 

There are an awful lot of burnt out people in our churches. And out of them. I'm kind of one of them, and my husband really is. About 6 months ago, we were the music directors at our church. Now we aren't, and he's not coming to church. And it's breaking my heart. I hate it. I am still going to church with the kids. But I miss him, oh I miss him. I hate going to church without him. I hate wrestling the kids by myself, and I hate not seeing him do music, because he really loves it, and its one of those things he was created to do, you know? I must admit, there's a fair bit of wounded pride in there too. It's not super fun going to church without your spouse, I guess because it's such an definite outward display of imperfection, and whether we acknowledge it or not, there is a shiny shiny mask that we wear at church. Maybe we feel like we are letting God down if we acknowledge our imperfections? I'd be lying if I said I didn't care about what people think.

There are a lot of details involved, and I won't go into them. Mostly because it's not my story to tell. But the way it affects me is. One of the ladies at church told Mum she thinks I am so courageous to keep going to church without him. The truth is, this isn't courage. It's desperation. Where else would I go?

I have been made aware of so many of the faults in us Christians. I've learned so many things about myself in the last few years. Ugly things that I wish weren't true. If you'd asked me not too long ago, if I was a judgmental person, I wouldn't have thought so. But I was. I used to look down on Christians who didn't go to church. I thought they either fell into one of two categories, the spiritual fruitcake variety who take offense at every little thing, and the uncommitted variety, who don't put in enough effort. I didn't understand a lot of things. I still don't. But I understand a little more now.

I am so tired. Tired of judging and being judged. I am tired of spiritual people who are always right, who say they never fight with their spouse, who say one thing and do another,  who don't understand so much. I am tired of the people who demand more and more and more, and they don't care. Their strength makes me feel less strong.

But still, I think (think) it is best to go to church. To accept the fragility and imperfections of the Christians around me, the same way I accept my own. To try, even when it hurts. It's a real process of not letting bitterness get a hold of you, and I'm still trying to figure it out. It's a fine line, authenticity. You want to be real, not a fake happy-clappy person who has less depth than a teaspoon. But you don't need every Tom, Dick and Harry to see your raw pain. I'm trying to walk the line. I keep overbalancing, this way and that, going too far in one direction and then too far in the other. But I hold onto the fact this it is God's church. 

Kids say the darnedest things

I'm going to miss these days when my children grow up and start talking just like everyone else. They do say the cutest things. 

Georgie to Shane. "Daddy can you blast my hair?" (Talking about using the hair dryer)

In Georgie's vocabulary, Croissants are Bon bons 

When we were getting ready to go to Granny Kay's, Shane Charlie and I got distracted and were cuddling on the bed, Georgie comes stomping in, "well, are we going to Granny Kay's or not? I'm ready and I've been waiting for you!" She is such a bossy boots sometimes.

"I da boss!" Charlie.

Yes, that is a duck face.

Georgie's frustrated word "dude!"

Every morning, as Daddy leaves for work "Daddy you not go to work without me, never ever!" from Charlie. 

Georgie: "we must get dressed now!"

Charlie and his "only one"

And finally, bonus points for one from Shane (said in the most shocked tone, as if he were accusing me of murder) "you gave me chocolate when we have ice cream in the freezer!?"

On knowing God, (or trying to)

I have this trouble, with God. I don't think I really know him very well at all. Not because of anything He does or doesn't do for me. But more because of the things I think about him. I know God loves me. I really do. I completely believe that he sent his son for me because he loves me.

But the thing I have much, much more trouble with, is the concept that He likes me. (And yes, in my mind there is a difference) Say a child, they know they are loved, they see everything their parent does for them, and they appreciate that. Their parent is kind, and good and loves them. And the child knows that. But the love that the parent gives that child, then causes that child to try to do things to please their parent. I watch it in my own children, a couple of days ago for example, Georgie mastered doing her own buttons up on her pajama top, and she was just thrilled when I was so excited and proud of her. I watched her just glow and beam with joy, because she was proud to have pleased me. I know as a child myself, I was so thrilled when I got an award at a school presentation night, and my Dad was there, and I saw him be proud of me. He goes pink in the face, and he grins and looks like Santa Clause when he is particularly chuffed. And I could recognize that my Dad was proud of me, and liked me, you know?

Parents often do have favourite children. They just do. It's a fact. I find my favoritism often chops and changes with my children depending on what stage they are going through. But I never feel like I am God's favorite.

I don't often feel like I do anything that makes God like me. I don't often feel like I have made him proud, or pleased. I know he loves me and his son died for me, and that is because I am his child and I am his blood and I belong to him, and so he cannot help but love me. But often I feel like that frustrating, annoying, difficult child who can't get things right and just makes things more complicated. I get scared that my own parenting mirrors the beliefs I hold about God and it just kills me. I know it's kind of ridiculous, and probably completely wrong, but it feels right.

I have huge trouble with the idea that God could look down on my and delight in me. I feel like he is just looking down, going "What's she done again?" a lot of the time. I feel so much that I have to work to earn God's liking and I never ever manage it, because I am such a selfish creature.

The Bible tells me that he likes me, that he delights in me.

He brought me forth also into a broad place; He rescued me, because He delighted in me. Psalm 18:19 

The LORD your God is in your midst, A victorious warrior. He will exult over you with joy, He will be quiet in His love, He will rejoice over you with shouts of joy. Zephaniah 3:17

 For the LORD takes pleasure in His people; Psalm 149:4

I know it. But it is head knowledge, not heart knowledge. I'm not quite sure how to go about making it heart knowledge. But I know I carry around an awful lot of false guilt. I am a sinner, heaven knows I mess up so much. But my sin is forgiven and gone because of Jesus' sacrifice. So my guilt should be gone as well. That's a much harder beast to conquer. I know my guilty feelings feed directly into my belief that God doesn't like me, and I know it is false and robbing me of so much.

And while you'd think that the guilt would be the explanation, I don't think it (solely) is. I think I also have trouble understanding the heart of God. I still believe that he is capable of withholding himself, that he treats the free gift of grace, and therefore his goodwill like something that must be earned. Even though I know that he all that is good and pure and lovely and kind.

 I know so much of this is directly affecting the way I act now, the way I love others. but it's bloody hard ignoring things you feel to be true. I'm trying to figure out how. I'm working on trying to believe that He is a God who adores me. And when he sees me broken, and tired and sad and dirty, he doesn't get frustrated or angry or fed up with me, but rather he sees my brokenness and his heart breaks for me. I'm trying to believes that he picks me up, and adores me. That there are things about me that he finds endearing, and delightful. That I am his favourite. That there are aspects of me that he would never ever change. It's hard, but I'm trying.


 But You, O Lord, are a shield for me, my glory, and the lifter of my head. Psalm 3:3

Deep thinks

I'm kind of battling a fair bit at the moment. With the concept of church, and the way I do church in particular. I'm struggling to understand why we do everything we do. Why we put so much emphasis and energy into a Sunday morning, and we work so hard, to make things look so good. I don't know if everything we do on a Sunday actually achieves much, you know? There is a world full of broken people with no hope, and we are hidden away in our buildings, worrying about this program and that program, making sure the music is current, and the graphics are cool, and talking about how to reach the unchurched. But sometimes it feels like all we do is talk, and keep ourselves really busy. Somehow, we end up placing too much importance on things that really don't matter, and we ignore the stuff that is really important. We put smiles on our faces, and joy in our voices, and we put so much effort into making sure that we are all just beautiful plastic shells that are broken inside. 

It feels like we are this bunch of people who get together once a week to have meaningless superficial conversations. We have two minutes of small talk, and have these deep spiritual conversations, but we don't really know anything real about each other and we walk away lonely. I know I'm part of the problem. I keep people at a distance sometimes because I don't know how to talk to them. But I simply cannot believe that I am the only one who feels this way?

We talk lots about how good God is. And yes, He is good. I believe it with all my heart. But somehow it feels like we are talking about this superficial bandaid good. A good that makes everything look pretty, but leaves an ugly wound festering deep inside that is eventually going to cause that leg to get gangrene. I believe in the kind of good that sometimes has to rebreak the broken leg, and make you scream and cry out in pain, because baby, there's no anaesthetic. But yet somehow, you manage to walk around (much, much later) without any kind of limp.

I am so desperately tired of bandaids. I want the real fix.

To be honest, I'm a little bit broken hearted. I still love God. But I don't quite know where He is. Or something. Sometimes I wonder if I even know who He is. I get scared that I will be that Christian too busy wandering around with her head up her ass, so that she doesn't even recognize Jesus when she meets Him face to face. 

I know that people are people, and just because we are Christians does not make us programable Jesus-bots (although sometimes, I really wish we were). But still, it's hard sometimes when you feel a bit let down by people. I am hurt, mostly on behalf of some people I love, but I think I am also hurt, because I truly believed we were different. And the thing is, when I am hurt, and angry, and frustrated at people, I am also hurt and angry and frustrated at me too. Because I know that I let Him down.

When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” “Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.” Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Take care of my sheep.” The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my sheep." ( John 21:15-18 NIV)

I'm not feeding his sheep. I'm not. I'm the person Jesus tells three times, and I still don't get it. So how can I be dissolutioned by others who don't? Believe me, when I am sitting here having these deep thinks and pointing fingers, I am pointing at myself. I'm so bone-weary just making it through some days, that I don't even have the energy to think about feeding any sheep. I just don't know how. And of course, there are times when I am prompted to do some sheep feeding, and I always manage to screw it up somehow.

I am hurt. But I also do the hurting. I am let-down, but I know I've let others down. I am alone, but I leave others on their own too. When i talk about not understanding the church, I freely acknowledge that I am the church. And I want to be the church. But I want to be the church that I believe in, you know? I don't really know what it is I'm asking, or what it is I'm trying to say. But maybe when I figure it out, I'll let you know.

4 and 2 and a half.

My children are growing right before my eyes. And yet, every day is Groundhog Day. The same thing, all the time. Each hour, each day flows seamlessly into the next, and because I am the closest person to these tiny humans, I sometimes forget that they are, in fact not going to be like this forever. I want them to grow up, and live and do, and be. But sometimes I am terrified for them, because sadly, futures are not always rosy. And I wish I could keep back just a tiny little bit of baby-ness of my own, for always. Just to snuggle up with every now and then.

I sometimes think life would be much nicer if you could pick and choose which days to live according to your needs. So, for a few days you could be a grown up and go to work, and then when you were really weary of that, you could be a baby for a little while and sleep lots, and be taken care of. When you are old and lonely and tired, you could go back to being a Mummy of small children when you are being touched all the time. I know it wouldn't work of course. But still, you know.

Four

So, being just-recently-four is really hard, I think. My Georgie-girl, she has very definite ideas about things. Her line of 'traffic' in the morning when she plays with her cars must be just so. And when things fall apart as her brother (inevitably) destroys that oh-so-precious row of cars, they fall apart big time. There are so many big emotions encased in that little body. She feels all the feels. And I must admit, often I am not overly empathetic. It's hard when you have a child who acts like everything is an emergency. It gets a bit like the boy who cried wolf some days. I worry for her, I hope that she will be able to manage her feelings okay, in this big feelings-inducing world.

She is working out her world, and oh, the questions! Whoever said the average four year old asks 437 questions a day, was not lying. If I had a dollar for every time I was asked What is for dinner? What are we doing now? What will we do tomorrow? What will we do this afternoon? I would be a very wealthy woman. My girl is into dressing ups in a big way. She loves Frozen and is happiest when she is dressed in her Princess Elsa costume. She has three pairs of dress-up high heels, and we have had countless negotiations about where we can wear them.

She doesn't sleep very well at night. And while, that used to bother me so much, (Because she was such a good sleeper for the first couple of years of her life) I am slowly learning to roll with it. She often creeps into our bed in the middle of the night, and I sometimes end up moving into her bed for some space. Other times I end up squished into her bed with her like a sardine in a can, inhaling her childish loveliness. Mostly I long to have an uninterrupted night's sleep with nobody touching me. But I know, this too shall pass, and one day I will miss it.

She and her brother are either best friends, or fighting like wild cats. Some days they are at each others throats constantly, and it drives me insane, because they are both as bad as each other, constantly teasing, and shouting and goading one another. Someone is always running to me complaining about something their sibling has done. There is a constant battle over who gets to open a door first, or turn off the TV. But the next minute, they are playing happily, giggling to one another, or cuddling up in bed. I really want my kids to take care of each other, and be kind to each other. I think it is so important for siblings to be friends, and I hope my kids always like their family.

Two and a half

Goodness, I like two and a half. Master Charles is busy. I'm pretty sure I said this about Georgie too, but truly, he is one of the busiest little people I have ever known. If he is awake, he is doing. I often say Charlie only has two modes. On or Off. He is a brilliant sleeper, mostly it takes an earthquake to shift him, and generally he only wakes at night for a good reason. But when he is awake, it is all systems go!

Sometimes it is slightly terrifying, finding out what Charlie has been up to. A couple of weeks ago he had an obsession with finding out what was inside of eggs, and I think he managed to crack over a dozen eggs in the space of a week whenever anyone's back was turned. He also scares me sometimes because he thinks he is so very capable. We had to re-secure the drawer where the sharp knives are kept. "I do it!" is a constant catch-cry.

He is always doing. One of his favourite pastimes is digging in the backyard. Poor Shane often gets frustrated when he comes home and sees what Charlie has been up to. Our once pristine lawn now has tiny little piles of dirt and gravel through it, which makes it really fun to mow. But Charlie loves it. He loves to go to 'work' with Daddy. Shane often takes him out with him, when he does boy things, and the little man heart adores it. He has a little high vis shirt that he wears for 'work' and it is so cute.

I love his tiny little deep voice. He is getting so big! But he is good at reminding us that he is "Only little!" He can be quite rough and physical, but he is nice. He is a very kind, considerate little soul for all his rambunctious ways, and I hope that will always be so. He is still a bit of a Mummy's boy, and often when we are out at playgroup or something, he will get upset if he loses track of me. But when Shane is around every inch of him belongs to his Daddy. He just adores his Father, and if Shane is home there is always a Charlie shaped shadow following him.

Four and Two and a half makes for a very full life. And while, sometimes it threatens to overwhelm me, mostly I am very grateful, and I do like it very much.