To the one man I have always loved.

Long long ago, way before there was a Kai, or an Alan, there was just one man in my life.  He was handsome and he was strong.  He was fit and he was healthy.  He was a mechanic and he was a hairdresser.  He could play guitar and he could play golf, or indeed any other sport he decided he wanted to play: he boxed and won medals, he ran and won medals, he threw javelin and won medals, he decided quite late in his life to play cricket and won games, he played football even in his 70's, he took up skiing when most people are thinking of retiring, I even remember him playing table tennis with his 'left hand' so as to give the others a chance and he still beat them.  I was in awe of all that he could do.  He was my daddy and determination was his middle name - apart from when he convinced us that his real name was Ronald Harold Geoffrey Montague Vernon Smith.  I'm guessing he felt Smith was too ordinary a name for such an extraordinary man. Was there anything this man couldn't do. Don't tell him he can't do something because he'd just prove you wrong.

I was a young teen when daddy decided to take us across the channel to explore 'the continent' as it was then referred to.  Five countries in a few weeks.  A great adventure that look set to end as soon as it begun when an accident in a French country hamlet left us with the front of our car ripped off.  A disaster for most people but not for my dad.  He had resin, he needed fibreglass so he prayed and his daddy, abba father, provided a whole roll of it on a rubbish dump right where the accident had happened.  My daddy rebuilt the front of the car, patched up the radiator and the next day we were off again, only to have someone drive into the back of us the very next day and you guessed it, daddy rebuilt the back of the car.  No curtailing of adventure for us Smiths and five countries and a few weeks later we were back outside our house as the car shuddered to a halt.  Never to be driven again.

It was another of those trips when we were caught up a mountain in the worst thunderstorm ever and daddy broke into a ski chalet to keep his family safe, always the protector, always the provider.
He and I love to remember the times when I lived over at a college in Wimbledon and he would arrive and take me walking on the common, sharing his heart in a way that even today makes me feel like I was his confidante when really he was mine.  I think of the Sunday nights during term time when he would drive me back after church when probably all he wanted to do was to sit and rest after what for him was always a busy day. Others speak of the occasion when he left a meeting he needed to be at, because, he told them, my daughter needs me and he drove to collect me from college when the stress of finals had reduced me to a panic filled wreck only to be told by my daddy that if I didn't want to go back, I didn't have to.  Of course I did.

Memories have a wonderful way of clouding over the 'not so good' times yet allowing the sunshine of the happy times break through and I know that he wasn't perfect, but probably his biggest crime was to love his daddy, abba father, too much if that is possible.  He was the classic, old time pastor, who put his God, his church, his congregation, widows and orphans first.  I'm okay with that, surprisingly.  Rather God than a business, rather people than a hobby,  and rather the holidays and Sunday nights with him than nothing.

Many of you know my daddy and many of you love my daddy, because he loved you and tirelessly gave himself to you.  He taught you, he challenged you and probably rebuked you, gently of course.  And I know that he visited you, that's for sure.  As a pastor he was truly a good shepherd and probably his greatest legacy was the enormous numbers of men and women who have been discipled through him and because of him.  Other pastors, missionaries, elders, deacons, servants of God, the list goes on. That was his 'thing'.  His passion.  Discipleship. "Go and make disciples."  Does he remind you of someone? Because as I write this I realise that I'm using many phrases that are linked with Jesus.  It would be his greatest joy if he was thought to be like Jesus, but humbly this proud man wouldn't think he deserved it.

Today I need everyone to know how incredibly special this man is.  My daddy.  My Hero.

Today my daddy was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. 

Daddy I love you and I always will.

Friends. Don't you just love them.

Friends.  Don't you just love them.  They come in all ages, all sizes (is that rude?) and actually I love them more for that.  Whatever you do, don't make the mistake I used to make when I was young when I thought a true friend could only be just like me.  My age, my situation, my style blah, blah, blah.  Don't get me wrong there is something special about having a friend who 'fits' but if they fit too well then aren't they just the same piece of jigsaw, when the reality is that  my piece needs to be surrounded by other pieces that slot in, but take the picture further. 

Last night Alan and I met up with our friends 'the Pethers'.  Not totally correct that as 'the Pethers' consist of mummy Lynn, daddy Den, and 3 grown-up children, Greg, Scott and Amy, just as 'the Evans' consist of mummy Alyson, daddy Alan, 2 grown-up children, Hollie and Hannah, a gorgeous grandson, Kai and Bailey the dog!  It was just the  mummies and daddies meeting up this time.  We've been friends for a good number of years now, way back when our children were just starting out on teenage life.  We don't live near each other, them Essex and us west London so our get togethers were few and far between. But it didn't matter, from the moment Alan saw Den in an Everton top, the friendship was sealed.  Their shared love of Everton Football Club, our shared love of Jesus, along with our shared love for our children slotted us together comfortably and I believe, for life. 

We've long left meeting up 'en famille' and it's no longer in our homes but usually, as last night, we meet up in London where we walk: we love London, especially by the Thames and at night,where we will remind ourselves to look up, to appreciate the beauty of the buildings.  We talk: for the guys,  it's always Everton first, and for us ladies, our children, but we quickly move on to all sorts, but definitely Jesus, when we remind ourselves to look up, heavenwards.  Then we eat: nothing fancy but tasty.  And always we laugh: continually laughing, giggling, crying from laughing.  Yes, we fit well, and even though Den is out of the country probably half of the year, normally in America as he follows his God led, God inspired, God anointed ministry over there,  we're doing better at getting together.  The fit's getting stronger.

I read this the other day about friendship and I loved it.  As I love my friends - the Pethers, and others.  Here's to discovering new worlds.

"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born." Anais Nin

Behind us and Before us.

There will be a day.  A day when even the normal crazy of the Evan's household will become crazier.  It's a day I've looked forward to for many a year.  It's the mad crazy, jumping up and down, screaming, shouting crazy that has happened in the past and I await it in the future.  I remember Hollie at the age of 13 being cast as Eliza in her school musical of My Fair Lady.  I remember Hollie, again, getting through the audition process to end up featuring in the, famous for us Brit's, children's tv show Grange Hill.  I remember Hannah being chosen to dance at the Royal Opera House with the world famous Kirov Ballet in La Bayadere.  I want to remember again.  There will be a day, when all madness will break lose in our house again, for Hannah.

I remember injuries, I remember operations, I remember injuries, I remember operations.  I remember it all.  I remember having to leave dance school, twice.  I remember no more pointe shoes.  I remember her emptiness, her loss.  I remember her pregnancy, with me in America and her on the phone.  "mummy I'm pregnant"  "I love you, I love you, I love you.  We will get through this".  And we did.  And she did.  I remember her returning to dance school, a mummy who dances, who sings, who acts.  I remember her getting her degree.

And now we wait.

I believe God ordains our paths.  So does she.

It has begun.  Hannah has just been cast in TWO short films.  She went to a casting for one and another director asked her to be in her film.  Yippee!  And then she discovered she was also cast as the lead in the first film she had auditioned for.  Double Yippee!

There is more to come.  I'm sure.  And one day I will go back to remembering what it feels like when your daughter gets to fulfil her dreams. 

But right now.  I look forward.

Happy Valentine's Day

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.   Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

How perfect is that.  Found only in Jesus that's for sure.  As for me I come a very poor second, third, last.  I wish I loved better.  I want to love better.  I will love better.

Having said that I've spent today with a number of people who I love so dearly that it hurts my valentine's heart.  There are others that were not part of my celebrations and for that I'm sad but I trust they know that they are amongst my 'loved'.  If they don't because circumstances seem different then I'm telling them now.  You are my beloveds.  You know who you are.

An extra blessing today was the visit of my eldest sister.  Timely.  Needed.  I do indeed love her and I KNOW that she loves me. We visited one of my favourite places to go: Petersham nurseries.  A garden centre, but only in name.  Think nothing of what you know of garden centres - this is a place of such beauty, such inspiration, such style.  I never go there where I am not emotionally fed, soul uplifted and  creativity inspired.  If you ever visit and one of us has a car - ask me to take you there and I hope it will be as much a joy to you as it is to me. 

It was to Janet.  I believe she loved it too and we sat over a jug, yes I said a jug, of hot chocolate and a coffee (no cakes as I get weighed tonight!!!!!!) and we talked, imagined, dreamed of our gardens in a whole new light. As we left the shop, with it's emperors new clothes prices, I spied this.

For everything there is a season, and I'm looking for the snowdrop in my life - the sign for the future, the sign that the harvest is on it's way.  Its winter but spring's a coming, and that means summer is just down the road.

But for now I'm off to be weighed - early - so I can then go and gorge myself on dinner with my forever Valentine.  Alan.  He loves me, He loves me...., He loves me. And I love him.