God

3:14

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Philippians 3:14 I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

3:14

Most people would look at that number and associate it with the mathematical term Pi. For me for many years though it was the numbers of my digital clock, glaring at me in the darkness.

After my second bout of depression, this was the time I woke up at in the early hours of the morning. At first I thought I was imagining it but as the days and weeks went on, the realisation set in-I was waking up at this time every morning.

It was like a jolt. Suddenly I would be wide awake and my eyes were automatically drawn to the clock, hoping and praying I would see a different number, but no, there it was…3:14.

Why am I bringing this up now you may ask. It’s simple really. It’s back! It’s almost like an old friend who you haven’t seen in awhile turning up on your doorstep. It doesn’t scare me or make me feel that I’m staring into the dark place that is depression again. It’s more like a warning. Like when the petrol light flashes on your dashboard- you haven’t run out of petrol yet but you will if you don’t do anything about it.

At the moment we are living in very strange times. There is fear and uncertainty and there seems no end to the virus I spoke of in my last post. Many people are in despair, losing jobs, loved ones, missing friends, homeschooling….I could write an endless list.

3:14….I know that just like that petrol light, if I don’t do anything, that number will become an all too familiar sight. It is no coincidence that the Bible verse I’ve included has 3:14 in the reference. As someone close to me reminded me tonight, there is always someone in a worse situation than yourself. Reading this verse it brought to mind my purpose as a believer and follower of Christ. I have to keep going every day with His help and press on towards the goal set before me. My life is not my own but His. It was paid for on Calvary. As my pastor says, we are saved to serve. So my purpose is to press on and serve and glorify Him and I encourage you to do the same.

Thanks for reading.

Great is Thy Faithfulness – 7th September 2019

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Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, Because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness.

Lamentations 3:22-23

This post should have been written a few weeks ago but it’s a busy time of year with the birthdays of the boys and getting back to school and work routines…

….so on 17th August it was exactly a year ago that I moved out of the house I’d lived in for 20 years. The house which I remember not existing and the architect showing where our garden would stretch back to. The house where grey walls and floors were gradually replaced with paint, wood, tiles and carpet. The house where each room would gather stuff and memories of things that happened there.

Notice I called it a house. Somehow I never thought of it as home even when I made my quilts and cross stitch pictures. Now I have a home. Somewhere I look forward to coming to after work or a day out like today. It’s a place I can turn on the lights, kick off my shoes, light a candle and relax.

What is the difference? God is central in this home. He gave it to me and in it He has supplied all I need and much more as He has promised in His word in the verses I quoted at the beginning of this post.

In this home, new memories are being made. The Squid and the Ginger Kitten play and fight and pray. They look on as I’m able to spend more time with them and reading and studying God’s precious word. We bake cakes, we make models, have Nerf wars-a lot. They see a happier me, more relaxed and freer with time.

God has been so faithful in this year when my belief in myself was low. He has brought new people and new things into my life and although I may change, He never will and of that fact I am truly grateful.

Thanks for reading

Movies & Memories 8th July, 2019

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When the Squid was younger, he used to sit on the floor playing with his StarWars Lego and while he would play, he would be humming the music from a particular scene in the movie. I always kept him going saying if his life had a theme tune it would be out of one of those movies.

I was looking at photos on the laptop and came across the Squid with bags of Lego pieces, a huge smile on his face in anticipation of building something enormous. That’s what made me think of the memory above. I can smile at that memory and others but to be honest, as I clicked through photos of the last 20 years of my life, many brought tears to my eyes. There were pictures of loved ones no longer here; ones of friends no longer part of my life; and then there were ones of me. In many of them I look tired, overweight, hair pulled back, ill fitting clothes and in some of them I could sense a fake smile or two. But then I was reminded by someone that we can’t get those times back and we can’t do anything about them.

Which brings me back to movies. There’s nothing like a good movie to cheer you up-it did. I’ve always loved movies. I’ll watch almost anything as long as there is a good story. ‘An Affair to Remember’ is probably my all time favourite romance. ‘Rebecca’ is another black and white favourite. Musicals like The King and I’, ‘South Pacific’ and The Sound of Music’. I enjoy a bit of action too. ‘Gone in 60 Seconds’, ‘The Bourne Identity’, ‘The Avengers’…. I could go on.

We watch movies to entertain and escape but then we have to come back to reality. Life isn’t like the movies. Sometimes the girl does get the guy, the family live in a beautiful house with a white picket fence or the pet gets to live another day.

For most of us life is not a fantasy but a harsh reality, made up of a collection of memories.

We are not the only ones who remember. God knows about everything we say, think or do. He is omniscient after all. Often when I think of the life to come and giving an account to God, I often wonder if it will be like watching a movie as God points out things that have occurred. But then I remembered a verse about our sins.

“I, I am He who blots out your transgressions for my own sake, and I will not remember your sins.” Isaiah 43:25

What an amazing truth. Yet the enemy tries to torture us with memories of past sins. He is the accuser but thankfully I can say I am redeemed by the blood of the lamb and when he tries to remind me of my past I can remind him of his future.

Thanks for reading

Enjoyment Versus Achievement

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This is the time of year in schools when reports are given out. I’ve waited ever so patiently for the Ginger Kitten to receive his 1st primary school report and for the Squid’s end of year report of High School.

Achievement is what teachers report on. We have to think of 30 different ways of saying the same thing. Reports send dread into the minds of many children and parents. Not everyone is a high achiever. Not every child receives top marks in tests or exams and so they often wonder what they have actually achieved.

I suppose that is why in school reports today, we do also comment on what children enjoy about school. It makes it more personal and gives the impression that we do know the children in our class when we mention little details like their favourite toy or some phrase they always say.

There is a difference between these 2 things. When I was diagnosed with PND after the Squid’s birth, I would meet with a CPN who would encourage me each day to write down something I had achieved and something I had enjoyed. That’s easy enough you may think-not so when you are suffering from depression, when you don’t seem to enjoy anything anymore and getting one foot out of the bed is an achievement. In those early days of recording my achievements versus the things I enjoyed, there were definitely more of the former than the latter. It was an achievement washing my hair; eating 3 meals a day; leaving the house for a reason other than giving my then husband a lift to work. Things I’d once enjoyed just didn’t feature in my life anymore.

However, something happened recently that reminded me of that time when I jotted things down in a spiral bound notebook with a pink flower on the cover.

A few months ago I spent a couple of afternoons cutting out squares and circles -49 of each-from cotton fabric. I wouldn’t say I enjoyed it, but, it was an achievement. I hadn’t made a quilt in a long time. I had bought fabric before the Ginger Kitten was born but hadn’t actually got round to making it for him.

Last weekend I attended a quilt exhibition with my BFF. Being surrounded in that small sanctuary by all the fabric, the myriad of colours, the simplicity of some and the complexity of the patterns of others fascinated me and I could feel a stirring up of my passion for textiles. So, I went home, got the circles and squares and dusted down the case of my sewing machine. I started the process of matching circles to complimentary squares and appliquéd them to one another with brightly coloured thread to match the warm, bright colours of the batiks. Before I knew it, photos were being sent to friends of the progress being made. I looked forward to spending a little time each day with my old friend, hearing my machine purr contentedly under my direction.

Hold on! This was not a sense of achievement being reported on . No! This was once again an enjoyable past time. My motivation to get this quilt complete so that I could begin another project I wanted to attempt was building up inside me. I took down numerous books to look for inspiration. I even ventured out to the shed to bring in my stash of fabric and collection of threads.

It was as if enjoyment had sneaked up behind achievement and overtaken it at the last corner in the last minute to win the race.

In the Christian life, God wants us to have an abundant life but we are also accountable. I for one know that I wish to hear those words ‘Well done, good and faithful servant’. However, the relationship I have with the Lord does not depend on works. Yes, I am saved to serve, but works alone can never achieve salvation.

Even in this hobby of quilting I look for ways I can encourage others in their faith, point souls to Him or just glorify God with the talent He has bestowed upon me. So I make gifts for friends, family and colleagues and as I spend the hours seeing by hand or machine, I can pray with each stitch that is completed. What a privilege to spend time talking with the Lord while doing something I enjoy so much.

Thanks for reading,

Fathers Day…16th June

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Today in the UK we are celebrating our fathers, grandfathers, fathers in law and father figures in general. I was intrigued to know how this tradition began. It seems to have come from across the pond in the US where in 1910, a young woman was inspired during a mothers’ day sermon to honour her father.

I am fortunate to have my father or daddy as I call him, still with me. I realise there are many today who will visit graves to remember the father they once had.

My daddy called me his princess on my wedding day and of course it made me cry. What girl wouldn’t? When I was a baby, he used to sit at the bottom of my cot to check I was breathing. At 3, he taught me how to swim, taking away any fear of the water and making it fun. At school I shed many tears over maths homework’s and my daddy always knew how to solve those equations. When my first boyfriend dumped me, my daddy was there to hug his princess. When I started driving, he would always stay awake until I came in at night and as a student he wrote the most heartfelt letters, phoned everyday and often drove to the main postal office in Belfast to ensure I got an envelope with money the very next day…

Those are just some of the examples of the things my daddy has done for me over my lifetime. Of course there are other things I have learned from my dad and acquired from him.

He is not afraid to show his emotions. He worked hard all his life and instilled this work ethic in me. He loves reading, a passion we both share. You can overcome adversity. When you do something, you give it 100%. Family comes first, love conquers all and that we all need God in our life.

Sadly, not everyone can relate to this important man in my life. Not everyone has a loving father or one who is interested in them or who will do anything for them. There are those who may read this who have never had a father figure in their life. There are those who may have had an abusive father or have been abandoned by him at some point in their lives. Or maybe like my boys, the relationship between parents has broken down…

I often think about the effect on my two boys. The Squid is older and has more knowledge of what went on before I finally left the family home. He is a deep thinker and a worrier. Usually you can see it on his face. He’s been angry and sad about what has happened. The important thing is to let him talk about it. To try and see it through his eyes and of course, pray with him and for him.

The Ginger Kitten is a different story. He was so tiny when we broke up , nothing really was said. The transition is equally difficult for him as it is for the rest of us, but through time hopefully he will have more of an understanding of the whys and wherefore.

Looking for love after divorce is difficult for most. I am no exception. As someone who was used to putting the needs of others first before her own, it comes as no surprise to me that quite often when I’ve spoken about the type of man I’m looking for, I think about how ‘he’ will meet the needs of my boys. Looking for love for me isn’t just about me. I have 2 little people too. They come along with the emotional baggage we divorcees trail behind us.

My boys need a spiritual leader first and foremost. I tried to fulfil this role for many years but do believe a man should be the spiritual leader in the home. They need someone who puts family first, who is interested in the small stuff as well as the bigger issues. Someone who takes time to talk with them about what is important in their life and spend time with them. Someone who loves their mother and works with her to train them up in the way they should go. Is this just a pipe dream? Definitely not. Such men do exist.

In Psalm 68:5-6 we can see how every family derives it’s name from the Father and God the Father is the model for headship in our families.

“A father of the fatherless,

A defender of windows,

Is God in His holy habitation.

God sets the solitary in families;

He brings out those who are bound into prosperity;

But the rebellious dwell in a dry land.”

All of us can have an experience with our Heavenly Father. All of us have a relationship with Him, either one where we can accept him as a father or one where we are rebellious and not accepting of his love and grace or anything else he is willing to bestow on us.

So this Fathers’ Day think not only of your earthly father but of a Heavenly one who loves you with an everlasting love.

Thanks for reading.

The Dreaded Meds

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“If you had a broken leg, are you telling me you wouldn’t get a plaster cast on?”

It was a serious question asked by my frustrated GP in January, 2006. I too felt frustrated , helpless, fearful and had come for reassurance. 14 months after the birth of the Squid and my return to work, I was told by a Community Psychiatric Nurse that I needed to take time off work and begin medication to help me…

My initial response had been the same argument I was using with my GP. Take time off work? I’ve been off for 14 months. I can’t take more time off. I’ve a classroom full of little people depending on me. I’ll cost my school money if I’m off sick. I need to work for my family. What will people say? Medication? No way. You can get addicted to those things…

I’m not good at arguing. I don’t like confrontation and I’m a people pleaser. I held up the white flag and said YES to the dreaded meds. I thought the battle was over, but hey, it had only just begun.

I’ve always been a very vivid dreamer but nothing prepared me for what I was about to experience. Fluoxetine-more commonly known as Prozac sent my mind into overdrive while I attempted to sleep at night. I awoke in the mornings feeling even more tired than when I’d gone to sleep and yet I waited 5 or 6 weeks before going back to the GP. After all, weren’t these anti depressants supposed to help? I had gone against everything I believed to take these drugs and now I felt worse…

“This often happens…” I was told. It can take a while to get the right drug and dose. For me, it was 3 attempts before that happened. I felt like a helpless animal in a lab, being experimented on. Except this seemed more like the trial and error approach than a controlled experiment.

13 years on, yes, 13! and the world of drugs still fills me with apprehension. For each successive depressive episode , I was put on my last known pill and dose only to become that guinea pig again. It’s all about chemicals and a lot of other factors I don’t really understand-being a very unscientific person-I did pass my GCSE Biology but it’s not a grade I reveal readily.

So 6 years ago after the Ginger Kitten entered my life I immediately was given Cipralex-also known as Escitalopram. It didn’t work so with the advice of a psychiatrist I was given Vensir. The people pleaser in me did as I was told. Surely he knew best? I needed help and fast and if this drug was good at treating depression, was that not the answer for me and my family?

In the short term-yes. It did work. I was able to return to work after maternity leave, work a shorter week, didn’t need therapy and lived happily ever after…

Huh! This isn’t a Hans Christian Anderson fairytale, no, it’s more like one from The Brothers Grimm. When I felt a bit better I looked into coming off Vensir. Oh dear! No, really, oh my goodness! Whose idea was it to put me on these things? “They’re the best drug for your present situation…” they said-and I had believed them!!!!!! Oh I felt like the victim of a fraudulent scam, that I’d been duped big time. Now I was scared, fearful that I’d be on these things for life. A few times I had forgotten to take 1 or ran out and what happened next wasn’t pretty. By the next morning of missing a tablet I would be tearful, by lunchtime I would be in a state of high alert and anxiety. By tea time I would be having suicidal thoughts!

Of course I could have just accepted that as the Borg in Star Trek say, “Resistance is futile , ” and it was meant to be that I remain on these tablets. Except I couldn’t do that. I’m a Christian. I am a daughter of the king. He loves me with an everlasting love and nothing can ever pluck me out of His hand. Just as an earthly father will do anything for their child (I am fortunate to have experienced this with my own daddy) , my Heavenly Father wants the best for me too. So in the grand scheme of things I needed to remain on the dreaded meds because my marriage was going to end and He also knew the best time for me to start the process of withdrawal. I’ve always attempted to come off meds at this time of year, simply because as a teacher I’ll have a long break without the added stress of work. Of course there are other factors. My divorce will soon be complete, I’m settled in my new God given home, my boys and I are getting used to a new normal way of life, I’ve supportive family and friends, I’m spending time with people who make me feel truly happy and I feel I am living the abundant life that Jesus spoke of in John 10:10.

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” ESV

The devil sought to steal my joy, destroy my life and kill me through depression but his scheme didn’t work and with the Lord’s help daily, I’m still in my journey to joy.

Thanks for reading.

Restoring a Masterpiece

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At the moment I am feeling very thankful for being alive. I have much to be thankful for but why being alive? As a sufferer of a number of depressive episodes that I hinted to in my last post, I had many days I felt quite the opposite of thankful. I couldn’t thank God, I didn’t want to thank Him . I just didn’t desire to be alive anymore, to my shame. Yet each episode came and went and each time I’ve acknowledged God’s part in that.

But… I know you shouldn’t start a sentence with it , but each time, although I came through it, life wasn’t the same as before. Often I tried to convince myself that I never would be the same because you change as you go through life or depression changes you.

However this time it’s different. So that got me thinking. Dangerous I know but Why? How? This time I’m not living in the same toxic environment I’d found myself in. I’m living in my own home that the Lord provided me with. More than that, I’ve returned to my first love – Jesus.

For a long time I was trying to please a man while trying t make myself believe that I was a Christian; I attended church(albeit a Sunday morning); I read my Bible(not with the discipline my Pastor spoke of recently or with the hunger I had when first converted); I prayed(not with the fervency of the young woman on her knees surrendering her right to motherhood to the Lord or the student who organised prayer meetings and nights of prayer for CU) and I served the Lord(not with the urgency or dedication of my younger self who had taught Sunday School and took part in various other roles before marriage).

I had been trying to please a man, not my love – my Saviour, my Redeemer, the One with whom my relationship is more important than anything else. My relationship with Him is one that is going to last forever. After that, God came close and spoke to me through Scripture.

Our Pastor’s wife had given out the card in the photo at one of our women’s meetings and I’ve been using it as a prompt each week in my prayer journal which I began at the start of 2019. The title says – You Are Who God Says You Are. So far, I’ve covered You Are Beautiful, You Are Unique and You Are Loved which led to this post. The verse accompanying it is Jeremiah 31:3.

“The Lord has appeared of old to me, saying:’Yes, I have loved you with an everlasting love; Therefore with loving kindness I have drawn you.'”

Jeremiah was speaking of a time when the Lord was restoring the nation of Israel just as I am presently living in a time of restoration in my broken life! Wow! How amazing to think that the same God who loved a nation to restore it, also loved me – an individual, enough to restore me.

This was when my mind went into overdrive. I’m a visual person. I am an artist. Restoration made me think of a masterpiece in an art gallery. Over the years, dirt, dust, grime, moisture, pollen and particles of goodness knows what will silently adhere to the painted canvas until a curator decides it needs to be restored to its former glory. It is x-rayed and examined and worked on and quite often when the layers are taken away there may even be objects that had been hidden so long they change the look of the masterpiece.

What has this to do with me and my restoration process? I too am the a masterpiece. I’m not being vain, my Bible tells me in Psalm 139:14

“…I am fearfully and wonderfully made…”

Not only that but when I first came to Christ He made me new. 2 Corinthians 5:17

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come,” ESV

I feel like a papier-mâché model covered in glue and sheets of newspaper with printed words. For years, words were spoken over me that I believed until I became someone I didn’t even recognise myself in the mirror. The Lord is restoring me. He is carefully dissolving the glue and peeling off the layers of newspaper. Every now and again ‘she’ shines through. Friends and acquaintances have remarked I ‘look alive ‘ or that ‘I’m enjoying life more’. Some people who have known me since forever have even stated that they can see ‘the old me’. I have to correct them there.

That is not the case. Just like the once hidden objects that change the look of the masterpiece, it’s not ‘the old me’ they see but a revelation of the person God wants me to be.

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Thanks for reading x