Today we received parcels. For Christmas. That should be so exciting. And it was. But it wasn't. These parcels meant we wouldn't be seeing Andy over Christmas. Actually we just won't be seeing Andy. After nearly four years, Hollie and Andy have decided that he will stay in Manchester, because he loves it and she will stay in London, because she loves it. And although they both love each other very much it just isn't going to work. So for this perfect couple it just wasn't perfect timing. My family is sad. We will miss him very much. He had come to be a part of our family. Kai would refer to Mummy, Poppy, Mimi, Auntie Hollie, Andy and Bailey (the dog),
I declare here, in writing, that I trust you God. That's all.
Friday, 23 December 2011
Monday, 19 December 2011
The most wonderful time of the year.
There's something about Christmas. I'm not sure what it is. I can't begin to imagine what it's like in a hot country because the dark nights, the cold, all lend themselves to the snuggling down, watching old movies, fires blazing, drinking warmed drinks, twinkly fairy lights, candles, wonderful warm spicy smells of cinnamon, cloves and oranges. Which in turn lend themselves to the magical and the mystery that is Christmas.
I've always loved Christmas and never quite went along with the shunning of the excesses and the pagan elements that serious evangelicals would like to speak of. Rather for me grab back what the enemy has stolen and make this a celebration to remember. You only have to read the Old Testament and the history of the Jewish Nation to know that feasts, festivals, celebrations, festivities all had a place. The generous heart of God, shown in so many ways and trumped totally by the gift of our salvation through his precious son Jesus, his birth, his death, his resurrection, should only be imitated. So be generous. But not just to the ones you love, that's the easy part but, to quote my friend, do not be in danger of abandoning those who are already abandoned. Think on that. I am.
The truth is that the 'magical and the mystery' that set Christmas apart, whether you know it or not, is the magic and the mystery of the birth of God's Son. Born to a virgin, conceived by the Holy Spirit, God in human form, visited by shepherds, who had been visited by angels. Visited by wise men with magical and mysterious presents. Gold because he was a king, not an obvious one. Frankincense because he was a priest, ready to bridge the gap between us and God. And finally myrrh, a burial ointment because he was born to die.
I've always loved Christmas and never quite went along with the shunning of the excesses and the pagan elements that serious evangelicals would like to speak of. Rather for me grab back what the enemy has stolen and make this a celebration to remember. You only have to read the Old Testament and the history of the Jewish Nation to know that feasts, festivals, celebrations, festivities all had a place. The generous heart of God, shown in so many ways and trumped totally by the gift of our salvation through his precious son Jesus, his birth, his death, his resurrection, should only be imitated. So be generous. But not just to the ones you love, that's the easy part but, to quote my friend, do not be in danger of abandoning those who are already abandoned. Think on that. I am.
The truth is that the 'magical and the mystery' that set Christmas apart, whether you know it or not, is the magic and the mystery of the birth of God's Son. Born to a virgin, conceived by the Holy Spirit, God in human form, visited by shepherds, who had been visited by angels. Visited by wise men with magical and mysterious presents. Gold because he was a king, not an obvious one. Frankincense because he was a priest, ready to bridge the gap between us and God. And finally myrrh, a burial ointment because he was born to die.
Meekness and majesty, Manhood and Deity
In perfect harmony, The man who is God
Lord of eternity, Dwells in humanity
Kneels in humility, And washes our feet.
O what a mystery, Meekness and majesty
Bow down and worship, For this is our God.
Father's pure radiance, Perfect in innocence
Yet learns obedience, To death on a cross
Suffering to give us life, Conquering through sacrifice
And as they crucify, Prays Father forgive.
Wisdom unsearchable, God the invisible
Love indestructible, In frailty appears
Lord of infinity, Stooping so tenderly
Lifts our humanity, To the heights of His throne.
Graham Kendrick
Christmas is so special that, more than any other time of the year, it causes great sadness when there is a loss. We talk about it being the 'worst time'. Those losses come in many forms, but they are all painful especially during a period when all around are celebrating. So please, as you read this, stop and say a prayer for those who you know are sad. My prayer for my friend Daphne and for my family is that they may experience the 'peace that passes understanding' this Christmas, directly from the one who the angels told the shepherds was the 'Prince of Peace'.
Friday, 16 December 2011
Never work with children & animals.
There's a huge market for children's nativities. Certainly putting one on guarantees a posse of doting parents along with the rest of their friends and family who want nothing more than to see their little one all dressed up in the cutest nativity garb performing beautifully. Actually strike that. Beautifully is not what we really want, is it now. We want hilarious. Antics that mean You Tube would be a definite possibility if the organisers of said nativity hadn't told us that any videoing (why don't we call it dvding now) was strictly for personal use and not to be put on any social networking sites etc. Boo hiss. Spoil our fun won't you. Obviously the million actual You Tube funny nativities were filmed by people without any conscience.
Kai's been in two so far - school and church. At nursery we were excited for singing whilst on mummy's knee and once he did manage to get back into the genuine performance he kept us amused by sitting when everyone was standing and then standing when everyone was sitting. A total improvement on his last nursery gig, with a glimpse of his true potential showing through. I would, of course, love to reveal this all to you but I don't think you'd class as personal use. Sorry. The one advantage of sitting on mummy's knee is we did get to video, I mean dvd, sorry...... film him at close range. And what a beautiful shepherd he was. Yes, I know he wasn't Joseph, or Angel Gabriel, or the innkeeper but shepherds are cool (she says through gritted teeth and a wonderfully fixed smile).
Onwards and upward. Nativity number two, held at our church. Still a shepherd. His choice actually. Nothing to do with the fact that he'd been bought a shepherd's outfit by his Auntie Jeanie who felt we were one family who might just get to use it. Of course he could lose the lamb and it would have been a great Joseph outfit or even an innkeeper. What am I talking about, he did lose the lamb. And the staff. And the headdress. And eventually the whole costume, but not until he had dutifully sat front stage with his mate Samuel (who was a cow) throughout all the scenes not requiring him. Time for the shepherds and he'd gone. Behind the organ, fighting with Samuel the cow and eventually got trapped between the floor pedals only to be rescued by Uncle Des. When I say rescued we're talking major achievement. All I saw from the corner of my eye, was Des's rear end as he climbed over the stage, narrowly missing the Christmas tree, and dragging Kai out from under the organ. There were lots of tears but who cared, because Millie was on stage!!
Who's Millie I can hear you mutter. Well remember her name please. Millie aka Emelia Geake. Note the spelling of Emelia, not Amelia, so she wouldn't be A Geake. Truesay! Honestly, every actor there ever was, every successful director including Spielberg, need to watch their back. Millie is after their job. She is amazing. Five years old and she owned, I mean literally owned, that stage. From the 'mummy I'm the only true Mary' to 'mummy they're all touching the baby' to grabbing poor baby Jesus from her much younger friend who was also a Mary (unrecognised by Millie, obviously) all this and more. So much more. Never have I known or even seen a thespian so young, so talented, so ambitious, so convinced of their divine right to be on the stage, so creative, so luvvie. Well, not for a good 46 years or so. What I love so much about Millie is she reminded me of someone. Someone I know really well, someone I watched frequently, through the looking glass. Millie was me!
So maybe don't bother remembering her name unless it's to eventually find her blog. Where as a young but middle-aged, gorgeous but well rounded, Mimi she records her fanciful thoughts and musings in a bid to fulfil her own need for a bit of creativity in her world. A little bit of Millie in my life keeps me entertained. Got to love that girl!
Kai's been in two so far - school and church. At nursery we were excited for singing whilst on mummy's knee and once he did manage to get back into the genuine performance he kept us amused by sitting when everyone was standing and then standing when everyone was sitting. A total improvement on his last nursery gig, with a glimpse of his true potential showing through. I would, of course, love to reveal this all to you but I don't think you'd class as personal use. Sorry. The one advantage of sitting on mummy's knee is we did get to video, I mean dvd, sorry...... film him at close range. And what a beautiful shepherd he was. Yes, I know he wasn't Joseph, or Angel Gabriel, or the innkeeper but shepherds are cool (she says through gritted teeth and a wonderfully fixed smile).
Onwards and upward. Nativity number two, held at our church. Still a shepherd. His choice actually. Nothing to do with the fact that he'd been bought a shepherd's outfit by his Auntie Jeanie who felt we were one family who might just get to use it. Of course he could lose the lamb and it would have been a great Joseph outfit or even an innkeeper. What am I talking about, he did lose the lamb. And the staff. And the headdress. And eventually the whole costume, but not until he had dutifully sat front stage with his mate Samuel (who was a cow) throughout all the scenes not requiring him. Time for the shepherds and he'd gone. Behind the organ, fighting with Samuel the cow and eventually got trapped between the floor pedals only to be rescued by Uncle Des. When I say rescued we're talking major achievement. All I saw from the corner of my eye, was Des's rear end as he climbed over the stage, narrowly missing the Christmas tree, and dragging Kai out from under the organ. There were lots of tears but who cared, because Millie was on stage!!
Who's Millie I can hear you mutter. Well remember her name please. Millie aka Emelia Geake. Note the spelling of Emelia, not Amelia, so she wouldn't be A Geake. Truesay! Honestly, every actor there ever was, every successful director including Spielberg, need to watch their back. Millie is after their job. She is amazing. Five years old and she owned, I mean literally owned, that stage. From the 'mummy I'm the only true Mary' to 'mummy they're all touching the baby' to grabbing poor baby Jesus from her much younger friend who was also a Mary (unrecognised by Millie, obviously) all this and more. So much more. Never have I known or even seen a thespian so young, so talented, so ambitious, so convinced of their divine right to be on the stage, so creative, so luvvie. Well, not for a good 46 years or so. What I love so much about Millie is she reminded me of someone. Someone I know really well, someone I watched frequently, through the looking glass. Millie was me!
So maybe don't bother remembering her name unless it's to eventually find her blog. Where as a young but middle-aged, gorgeous but well rounded, Mimi she records her fanciful thoughts and musings in a bid to fulfil her own need for a bit of creativity in her world. A little bit of Millie in my life keeps me entertained. Got to love that girl!
Wednesday, 7 December 2011
A journey not too far.
Off to see mummy and daddy and it's an expedition in itself. Not a difficult one and certainly one that is worth it, but an expedition all the same. Well actually it isn't technically an expedition as the dictionary definition is a 'journey taken by a group of people'. And although I am accompanied as always by Father, Son and Holy Spirit I'm not sure they count. Still I set off at 9.30 am so as to avoid the rush hour and more importantly to avoid the extra payment that London Transport charge for the privilege of no seat, morning garlic breath and sweaty armpits, yes, even in the morning. Right now, as I type on the train, it is already 11.14 am exactly and I'm only just leaving London. Euston station to be exact.
First leg of the journey is a bus from Hanwell to Ealing Broadway. Not hard to do but totally fascinating as I listen to a mum and her daughter discuss everyone's pregnancy that they know, including their own sister/daughter who's about to have an Alfie. Which is also the name of the next door's cat. Did you know you can't find Christmas cards with 'to my sister and brother in law and baby bump'? ..... although I wanted to tell them that I bet you Alan's mum could find one. Anyway, haven't they heard of Moonpig. Thank goodness for pens and an ability to write, so 'and baby bump' was added to the front of the card at the bottom. Nice! Was the journey really THAT long?
Second leg. Tube train to Euston including changeover. But first a stop at Starbucks for the worst cup of tea I've ever tasted. Should have had one at home. Then equally irritating is the fact that I then have to carry around a half empty or should I say half full cardboard cup everywhere I go. I say half full not because I'm that kind of person but because no matter how far down the liquid is, it still manages to spew up and out of that tiny hole in the lid, on to my hand, the floor, my legs, the person next to me, and my book - which if you're interested is The Catcher in the Rye. I know, I'm a late starter. I carry it around because there is nowhere to put it of course. There are no rubbish bins on the platforms - as a bomb could be hidden there. Please read that word quietly as I don't want to panic anyone. I am on a train remember. Can't put it, the cup that is not the book, down on the train as it could fall over and spill everywhere so eventually as I disembark at Euston I slyly put it on a bench and squash any guilty feelings of littering God's beautiful word, although I'm not sure Euston station counts.
Up the escalators I go, glancing at the adverts as I slide by. The Nutcracker by Birmingham Royal Ballet - would love to see that. Carol concert - Alan would love to see that. Wicked - seen it. War Horse - going to see that. Have got the vouchers to pay for it (fantastic birthday pressie), Alan and I have agreed we both want to see it, so not sure why we haven't bought the tickets yet. Well that's Alan and I for you, slow to get round to anything. By the way, does anyone else get that weird feeling just as you near the end of the escalator, you know that moment when you wonder if you're going to miss jumping off the escalator and be sucked under, into a parallel under-escalator world? Just me then!
Third leg and it's a train to Milton Keynes. Virgin train. Lovely train. Lots of seats. Write blog. Oooops, nearly miss my stop as I'm so engrossed. Quickly jump off, grabbing hat, coat, scarf, gloves, bag. Wow. Only a short journey north and it's way colder here. Until I remember to put on hat, coat, scarf and gloves.
Fourth leg and without a doubt the easiest. Jump into taxi and £10. 80 later I've arrived.
Actually I'm on my way back now.
It's been a lovely day seeing my parents and it's only taken 2 cabs, 2 buses, 6, yes I said 6, trains and all for the bargain cost of £41, for what is a one hour 15 minute car journey, even with me driving.
Hmmmm just one last thought. I do hope Alan had a good day driving his lovely BMW from house to house whilst listening to his favourite radio station. I bet he's back home already. I wonder if he'll meet me from the station. One less bus............ hmmmmm.
First leg of the journey is a bus from Hanwell to Ealing Broadway. Not hard to do but totally fascinating as I listen to a mum and her daughter discuss everyone's pregnancy that they know, including their own sister/daughter who's about to have an Alfie. Which is also the name of the next door's cat. Did you know you can't find Christmas cards with 'to my sister and brother in law and baby bump'? ..... although I wanted to tell them that I bet you Alan's mum could find one. Anyway, haven't they heard of Moonpig. Thank goodness for pens and an ability to write, so 'and baby bump' was added to the front of the card at the bottom. Nice! Was the journey really THAT long?
Second leg. Tube train to Euston including changeover. But first a stop at Starbucks for the worst cup of tea I've ever tasted. Should have had one at home. Then equally irritating is the fact that I then have to carry around a half empty or should I say half full cardboard cup everywhere I go. I say half full not because I'm that kind of person but because no matter how far down the liquid is, it still manages to spew up and out of that tiny hole in the lid, on to my hand, the floor, my legs, the person next to me, and my book - which if you're interested is The Catcher in the Rye. I know, I'm a late starter. I carry it around because there is nowhere to put it of course. There are no rubbish bins on the platforms - as a bomb could be hidden there. Please read that word quietly as I don't want to panic anyone. I am on a train remember. Can't put it, the cup that is not the book, down on the train as it could fall over and spill everywhere so eventually as I disembark at Euston I slyly put it on a bench and squash any guilty feelings of littering God's beautiful word, although I'm not sure Euston station counts.
Up the escalators I go, glancing at the adverts as I slide by. The Nutcracker by Birmingham Royal Ballet - would love to see that. Carol concert - Alan would love to see that. Wicked - seen it. War Horse - going to see that. Have got the vouchers to pay for it (fantastic birthday pressie), Alan and I have agreed we both want to see it, so not sure why we haven't bought the tickets yet. Well that's Alan and I for you, slow to get round to anything. By the way, does anyone else get that weird feeling just as you near the end of the escalator, you know that moment when you wonder if you're going to miss jumping off the escalator and be sucked under, into a parallel under-escalator world? Just me then!
Third leg and it's a train to Milton Keynes. Virgin train. Lovely train. Lots of seats. Write blog. Oooops, nearly miss my stop as I'm so engrossed. Quickly jump off, grabbing hat, coat, scarf, gloves, bag. Wow. Only a short journey north and it's way colder here. Until I remember to put on hat, coat, scarf and gloves.
Fourth leg and without a doubt the easiest. Jump into taxi and £10. 80 later I've arrived.
Actually I'm on my way back now.
It's been a lovely day seeing my parents and it's only taken 2 cabs, 2 buses, 6, yes I said 6, trains and all for the bargain cost of £41, for what is a one hour 15 minute car journey, even with me driving.
Hmmmm just one last thought. I do hope Alan had a good day driving his lovely BMW from house to house whilst listening to his favourite radio station. I bet he's back home already. I wonder if he'll meet me from the station. One less bus............ hmmmmm.
Thursday, 1 December 2011
Mad? Or just sad!
Aaaaargh! You know those moments when you realise something and it makes you soooooo mad. You're desperately hoping it's not this way but right now that burning feeling in your stomach is about to rise up in your throat and cause you to scream - at someone, anyone but preferably not the ones you're angry with because then that becomes a disaster of gigantic proportions that will mean life will never quite be the same.
Do you ever feel like that.
I do.
Right now.
Do you ever feel like that.
I do.
Right now.
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