Breathe...

I am conscious of breath at the moment - or rather, lack of it. My throat feels tight and I realise my breathing is shallow. But I am not ill. Or am I?

I am anxious. This horrible feeling of constriction and being closed in is a very real part of being worried and anxious. 

I make an effort to stand taller, breathe deeper. The physical change helps my mental state, a little. Like the fight to breathe deeply, the fight to push worry aside is an ongoing, breath-by-breath effort.

"Do not be anxious about anything. Instead of worrying, pray... And... Jesus... will come and settle you down..." That's a mix of NIV and Message versions, I think, of a scripture I once knew better, in Phillipians. Time to learn it again, it seems. Watch this space!

VW CC farewell

This sleek, well-engineered vehicle has served us in the best way possible: it protected Steve in an accident. When another car drove across his path and they collided, the airbags deployed and the seat-belt tensioners tightened, and he got out and walked away.
Arriving to collect him after the accident, I opened the door of the damaged car to retrieve the usual items a car seems to gather - old receipts, a few business cards, cell-phone plug-ins - and the sharp smell of smoke and chemicals was a strong reminder of the damage done.
We spent most of Monday in a round of visits and phone calls to the police station, GP, and insurance broker. It was only on Tuesday evening that I felt that I was emerging from the experience - coming up for air, as if from under water.
All week since then I have had a growing sense of the need to stop and take stock, to re-assess our busy lives; but the busyness has taken over, with hardly a chance to draw breath between business trips, school tasks, teaching, helping elderly parents, and just "doing life".
I still plan to find that "down-time", to carve out a place where we can just sit and look at each other, and share dreams, and agree on what to add to our lives, and what to discard. For now, it seems enough that I can hear and feel the cool wind, see the sun is glistening off the palm trees outside the window, and feel a sense of wholeness.

That's lovely - well done!

These were the words that a wonderful lady often repeated to her family and friends; words that I can hear being said in her kind, gentle, firm voice. Her family had painted them on her wooden casket, part of a creative, colourful tribute to this great Woman of God.
On Friday 22 January we spent two hours saying goodbye, with songs, tributes, laughter and tears.
There were no awkward moments - it mattered not when the candelabra had to be re-lit several times, or when the organist was a little slow. A sense of love and gratitude pervaded the place, through the tears.
Such opportunities strengthen all of us, as we build collective repositories from which to draw. After such a gathering, you come away with new resolve to pray more, and be kinder, and plough more into the lives of those nearest and dearest to you; new resolve, too, to be more hospitable and open-handed to everyone.

I had worn this bracelet, which represents the nine characteristics of the fruit of the Spirit:

The text for the sermon was that same "fruit of the Spirit", as Elizabeth truly displayed. This bracelet already had a special story attached to it; now it has another. Yet again, I am thrilled at God's blessing and grace.

Galatians 5:22

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

Sports Day

Depending on your sporting ability, the heading you've just read will have made you cringe and curl your toes, or smile broadly; or maybe it will have had you sighing nostalgically.

I only really learned to throw and catch a ball by learning with my first toddler. In my school years, therefore, sports days for me were limited to shouting from the stands. On the few occasions I was forced to run a cross-country race, I toiled along plumply in my red scratchy gym-slip, with burning chest and flaming cheeks, coming last with one or two other friends who either genuinely were as slow as me, or elected to spare me the embarrassment of being ignominiously LAST, instead of just rather humiliating "in-the-final-group". Winning a point or two for one's House was no compensation for this torture.

Now, I find myself toeing the line, encouraging my own two boys to take part "because you should". This year I have the added ammunition of "It's your last year at primary school!" to fire at the older one. Thankfully, they are as athletic as I was not (ok, I'll pause while you re-read that). The younger one - tall and long-legged and fast - even took part in an exciting all-ages relay race, under the floodlights, right at the end of the day. This made our determined "We WILL stay to the end this time!" well worth while. AND our team won! Cheers and warm feelings all round.

I am thankful that I can share such times with my boys, as they learn patience and stick-ability and team spirit. There are new memories to replace my old, solitary ones. However, I remain thankful too that sports day comes but ONCE a year.

Beginnings

It is not the first day of the year, it is the third; but it IS my birthday, so that seems like a good place to begin. My birthday gift to myself is to begin this blog again; maybe it is my gift to you too. It is wonderful to be given gifts - sweets from my two boys, an unexpected and generous book voucher from my husband, together with words of appreciation that I know don't come lightly and easily for him. Then there was the gift of a visit to one of my favourite places: Butterfly World. Every lush plant and bloom is a treasure, each creature a delight. There is something to see at every turn; and then something more, as your eyes search the foliage for bright wings or curious bright eyes.



Duiker

The whole day went smoothly, with very little of the bickering and shouting that we all sometimes resort to as a family. What a blessing. Maybe I should treat every day as my birthday, letting the small troubles wash over me, being more peaceful and contented.


Life comes to meet you

A friend recently used this phrase, as we discussed some important changes I had experienced: "Life comes to meet you, doing more than you expect." This verse came to mind - here in "The Message" version:

"God is able to do anything, you know - far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does not do this by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us." Ephesians 3:20

So dream wildly - and life will come to meet you. Even better: God will be at work...

The onion in the trolley

The weighed, labelled onion was in the small shopping trolley, and unguarded. I only turned my back for a moment, to get the tomatoes weighed - and it was gone. Both trolley and onion had vanished...
I spotted a pair of shoppers with a trolley I was sure they hadn't brought into the store with them. Had I seen them, from the corner of my eye, taking mine? I pursued them, and then stopped short, embarrassed: there was no onion! It couldn't be mine...But before I could express my apology, the younger of the two men was blushing and rushing off, to the laughter of the older one. He returned, onion in hand (fetched from where he had discarded it), and apologized. We all laughed and smiled, and it was clearly a matter for much joking between the two. We met up again in the checkout line, and the older man teased the younger, saying he should be paying for my onion he'd stolen. The younger one teased right back, saying how much trouble father-in-laws could get you into...
The onion in the trolley is destined to become a fond point of amusement between them, I am sure.