Tag Archives: children

Friendships are worth more than chocolate & flowers

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Chocolate and flowers seems to be the theme of this last week. My friend – a pastor in Zambia – wished me a Happy birthday and Lord’s blessing over me. But you know what I realised? I’m already blessed. It’s nice to get chocolate eggs and to come home to find a bunch of pretty flowers on your doorstep, but the friendships I have mean much, much more to me.

Saturday afternoon was a blessed time. Sure, it wasn’t so great that Mr Teapot threw up all over himself and the sofa just as his parents were leaving the house (though I am sincerely glad that it happened BEFORE they left…and I rather calmly went upstairs to get him a clean outfit while they disposed of the pukey things!!). But my favourite moments were sitting round the kitchen table eating apple talking about Easter and the days they were born and playing with Cars 2 play-dough. Elastatoddler sitting on my lap with his Spanish/French workbook from school and asking me to show him how to count in French and Spanish. (And me being seriously thankful we had a workbook. Because I’ve forgotten pretty much all my French and Spanish!!)

Perhaps the funniest part was while trying to put clean clothes on Mr Teapot and Elastatoddler appeared with a gift bag and card.

On the envelope it said ‘Laurie’.

He pointed to it and said “It says Laurie, but that’s really your second name“.

“What’s my first name then?” I asked him

“Auntie.” he replied quite matter of factly, looking at me like I was very silly for not knowing what my ‘first’ name is.

“You’re Auntie Laurie. Auntie is your first name, and Laurie is your second name”  he told me.

And he is right. That’s why I don’t mind changing pooey nappies and wiping poopy bottoms. It’s why I feel proud when I’m told ‘Auntie Laurie I need the toilet‘ after the little accident that had happened earlier in the afternoon. It’s why I don’t get phased by them crying/shrieking when they don’t get their way (though a deep breath to remain calm and pray for one’s ears may sometimes be required). It’s why I have shoes covered in red and blue play dough. It’s why I smile when I see their joy at the simple fun of making someone ‘disappear’ by throwing a towel over them or when 2 brothers play together taking turns with their favourite toys (as opposed to fighting because they don’t want to share). It’s why I don’t leave until I know they are ok when they run and leap face first into a toy fire station and bust their lip and chin just as I’m about to leave the house with an ‘¡Adios Auntie Laurie!’

It’s also why I believe my parenting friends just may be superheroes for doing these things all day, every day for years and years.

Every time I spend time with these boys, I wonder what they’ll grow to be and do in the world, and I think how lucky I am that my friends let me be part of their lives and even trust me to take care of them (for a few hours at a time)!

Curiosity may get me in trouble from my friends…

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One thing is for sure, I think I’m discovering why there are so many ‘Mommy bloggers’ out there in the blogosphere. Kids sure provide you with much to write and think about. Sorry to say that not much to blog from last weekend when Mr Teapot turned 2 – but check out my friend’s creation for the event (totally homebaked from scratch!). The best part was the fact that it was chocolate cake inside.

The only downside – my jeans got literally ‘caked’ with Thomas. And I didn’t notice until I went to put my jeans on to go to church on Sunday morning. Ha ha!

However, last night was one of those nights that I had one of those potentially corrupting children moments. Several of them in fact, complete with a classic BK style malteser moment. It all began as me & Miss Sweetroot were watching a DVD of her dance show from a couple of years ago. We’re talking about the dances, and the dance teachers we’ve had. Then out of the blue she just asks:

“Do you have a job?”

I of course answer “Yes“

This is of course followed up by the key question: ”What do you do for your job?”

Panic sets in. This is my friend’s only just turned 7 year old daughter. I’m pretty sure they have not had ‘the talk’ with her at this point in her life. I’m definitely sure the subject of people getting pregnant when they don’t want to be pregnant has never been talked about because she has only known pregnancy as something to be celebrated and excited about. I’m now wishing I’d become a teacher. Teacher would be an acceptable self explanatory answer to this question that my friend’s daughter would already know about. Pregnancy counsellor and teacher of sex education? Even amongst adults in the pub this answer can be quite the conversation shocker.

I think my answer was quite honest (and hopefully not going to get me killed by her parents!)

“Well, I help people who are pregnant, and some Mummies whose babies went to heaven while they were still in their Mummy’s tummy before they got to be born“.

At this point I’m praying that this will be acceptable answer for her.

It seems to be.

She tells me of someone she knows whose baby went to heaven while it was in their tummy. But then she asks me the toughest question of all:

“Why does God let the babies go to heaven before they get to be born?“

Thankfully my truthful answer of “I don’t know” is acceptable. (Phew. Because I really don’t know.)

Later I take her up to bed and I read her a bible story (Jonah and the big fish), and she reads me a story (Chip & Wilf’s Arctic Adventure). We’ll skip the part where I had to climb up to her bunk bed and in the process caught my scarf with my leg, almost knocked myself out and fell in ungracefully into a pile of stuffed toys. We chat to God together for friends we know on holiday (prompting a question about whether they have sharks in Morocco in case our friend gets his arm bitten off while surfing like Bethany Hamilton).

I’ve no sooner gone downstairs, when I hear little creaks and footsteps outside the living room. I’m reading ‘Father Fiction‘ by Donald Miller.

“What is that book about?“

“It’s about people who grew up without having Daddies” I say.

“How does that happen?” she asks.

And let’s just say that for the next 20 minutes we have lots of chats about half-siblings, step siblings, step parents, how some people’s Daddys might go away by choice and others don’t, and whether the Mummy of mine she’s met before is my ‘real Mummy’ and how I have lots of brothers and a sister but we don’t have the same parents.

Thankfully, when my friends came home and I told them these stories, they did laugh. And they told me that when she starts asking how babies are made, they are going to tell her to ask me instead.

I really hope my friends are joking. (You are kidding, right?!)

Anyway. All this to say that I’m back in the business of corrupting children. Or trying not to corrupt them. These conversations are definitely up there with the time when Miss S asked me about why I had two earrings in each of my ears.

And I now realise I’m officially getting too old to try and climb onto bunk beds.

:)

 

The Wall: Children helping the grown ups learn…

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Recently, Oli wrote this post entitled ‘The Wisdom of Children‘ on his blog which resonated with me. And it reminded me of this little quote on my wall.

Grown ups rarely understand anything. And it is tiresome for children to always be explaining things to them.

- The Little Prince

One of the reasons I love being around my friends’ children is that I’m constantly learning from them. They keep things simple and they are really bad liars.

So many times I remember with my smallgroup we’d be debating something a few of us (or all of us) felt challenged by. And then Miss Sweetroot (my friends’ daughter) would say something or do something later that week that would floor all of us and just nail it on the head quite matter of factly.

You see children and they are constantly trying new things and living in the moment before we teach them to over analyse everything. If you see me with my godson – who has no fear at all and buckets of never ceasing energy – you’ll hear the same 2 words over and over again coming from my lips:

‘Be careful!’ 

How often to we laugh at the dreams of children because we’ve become so cynical, squashing their creativity and maybe preventing them from living out exactly what they are called to do?

They explain things to us again and again, and the edges of our lips start to curl as we try not to laugh.

I’m reminded watching interviews with gymnasts in the lead up to Olympics of parents who speak of how when their kid watched the Olympics and turned to their parents and said ‘Mummy, I’m going to go to the Olympics one day and win a gold medal’. How many of us humour our kids with a ‘uh huh, of course you are‘ instead of going encouraging them to work hard to make their dream come true?

What have you learned from children in your life recently?

24 days of Christmas: All I want for Christmas is… (by Lori)

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Lori Wilhite serves alongside her husband, Jud who is the Senior Pastor at Central Christian Church in Las Vegas. They have two kids Emma and Ethan, and the world’s cutest bulldog, Roxy. She loves Starbucks chai tea lattes and is slightly Jane Austen obsessed. Lori is the founder of Leading and Loving It: Connecting, Encouraging, and Equipping Pastors’ Wives and Women in Ministry. 

All I Want For Christmas is… a bowling ball

I remember running into our living room, wearing flannel pajamas with some major bed-head happening.

I rounded the corner, excited to see what was under the tree …

A bowling ball.

My parents had gotten me a bowling ball.

A marbleized-purple bowling ball.

Now, to fully understand the incredibly irony of me and a bowling ball, a little description is necessary:

1. I’m the girl who wears heels to walk to pick up my kids at school.

2. Feet freak me out. Seriously. The thought of me putting on someone else’s sweaty bowling shoes is … well … kind of laughable.

3. I don’t have an athletic bone in my body. Not a one. I fall on a daily basis. I run into random objects often. And have broken my ankle by running … just running.

4. To say I have incredibly limited upper body strength is an understatement.

So, here I was … my little sting-bean arms jutting out of my PJs … staring at that purple bowling ball under the tree.

And I loved it.

Maybe it was of all of the excitement of Christmas morning. Maybe it was because I loved my crazy parents. Maybe it is because you could give me a gum wrapper and if you said it made you think of me, I’d love it.

Maybe it is because, in the end, the relationships are far, far more important than the gifts under the tree … or the not-so-perfect holiday meal … or Christmas morning chaos.

In the midst of all the hustle and bustle, stress and anxiety, we can tend to overlook the most important pieces of the holiday … really the most important pieces of everyday. I need to fight to make sure that my relationships … with Jesus, my husband, my 2 kids, our families, and our friends … don’t get swept up in the Christmas craziness. But instead, let those relationships trump all of the challenges, stress, anxiety, and distraction of the season.

So, this year when my kiddos come running down the stairs and open their version of the purple bowling ball, I’ll remind them how much they love me despite the lame gift and how much better our family is than that disappointing bowling ball.

No matter what is under your tree this year, really enjoy the greater gifts that wouldn’t fit under there anyway.

Merry Christmas.

*******

Lori’s post is part of a series of posts over the Christmas period. Please feel free to comment on what Lori has shared, and haste ye back for more guest bloggers who will be sharing over the next 24 days. You can find all the posts so far by clicking here.

Please vote for LoveOliver!!

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Hopefully, some of you remember Oliver (to be honest I’m not sure how anyone could forget that gorgeous smile of his). :)

Well, I have important news… LoveOliver is now officially a Scottish Charity!!! You can find LoveOliver on facebook, twitter, and on the LoveOliver website.

LoveOliver was set up in memory of Oliver Gill after his death on Christmas morning in 2010 caused by a rare and aggressive form of cancer. He was only 5½ months old. The charity helps fund research into paediatric cancers and practical support to families affected by childhood cancer who are having treatment at Royal Sick Children’s Hospital in Edinburgh (known as the “Sick Kids Hospital”).

Already over £40,000 has been raised in honour of Oliver, and £20 000 of that has already been donated to fund a research project.

For those of you in Scotland, I’d love love love if you could register with RBS Community Force and vote for LoveOliver so they could be awarded £6000. (I’m not sure if you can if you live outside of Scotland, but it would be worth trying – please let me know if you do and what the outcome is!)

Also if you’re in Edinburgh area, there is going to be a fundraising gig in my hometown of Leith on Saturday 8th October. You can purchase a ticket here.

 

How Noah flew to the moon

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In the last month my godson has officially made ‘minister’s kid’ status. My friend is now a Probationary Minister with ‘the kirk’ (as we call it in Scotland) in the church another friend is the Minister at. I love it when my prayer turns out to be God’s plan!! Apparently my friends were having lunch with the minister’s family (also friends of mine) who had asked them how they knew me. The Minister’s wife apparently exclaimed ‘Oh!!!! Your son is Elastababy!!!!” as they put two and two together meeting my friends, and recognising their children from photos on facebook.

Hee hee.

Anyway. The pressure to be a good godparent is really on now.

Last summer, the one known as ‘Elastatoddler’ came to the conclusion that the wise men brought the baby Jesus cupcakes when I read his nativity storybook with him.

Well. Tonight I was on the bedtime story duty again.

After ‘The Very Hungry Caterpillar‘ (excellent choice Elastatoddler!) he pulled out a storybook of ‘Noah and the Ark‘.

I read the first line: ‘Many years ago, there was a man who was good and faithful to God. His name was…’

Elastatoddler: ‘NOAH!!!!’

Auntie Laurie: Yes! That’s right!

Around this moment, Elastatoddler got very excited, bounced on the sofa and knocked Mr Teapot’s spaceship toy flying.

Elastatoddler: ‘And Noah built a SPACE ROCKET!’

Auntie Laurie: ‘ummm….no, I don’t think Noah built a Space Rocket’

Elastatoddler: “Yes he did! There was a flood and Noah built a Space Rocket!!!’

After some debate, we did agree that Noah had built an ark, but Elastatoddler still maintains that after Noah built an ark, he also built a Space Rocket and flew to the moon. We then moved onto a book of children’s devotions he pulled out from the bookshelf, and opened it up to the story about Jesus as a child visiting Jerusalem during Pentecost, and based on pictures is adamant that there was a castle in Jerusalem like Edinburgh castle.

Soooo, to sum up:

Three wise men brought cupcakes to Jesus when he was born.

Noah built an ark, and afterwards built a space rocket.

Jerusalem has a castle just like the one in Edinburgh.

Hopefully I did redeem my ‘Auntie/Godmother’ status by helping him with the number 4, learning how to read and some adding skills.

 

Cancer really sucks

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I get asked to pray for people quite a bit. I think because my friends and my family know that it’s what I do. I pray. I pray in my car, I pray on the bus, I pray in the shower, I pray as I push the trolley around the supermarket.

It was quite a few years ago that one of my best friends asked me to pray for friends of hers that I’d only met once. Their baby son had been diagnosed with cancer. They would send e-mails updating all of us prayer warriors about how treatment was going, how we could be praying for them.

It was a joyous day when I got the e-mail to say that his cancer was in remission. Yes!

On Saturday, I was round at my friend’s house. It was her husband’s birthday a few weeks ago, and we also wanted to celebrate that he will be graduating from university this week. I was asking them about their upcoming holidays and how they were going to get to catch up with this family I had prayed for.

And then my friend told me as I was about to leave: Pray. Get others to pray too. They’ve just found out the cancer is back, has spread and it’s not treatable. Now they are setting up this boy for Palliative Care when he should be getting excited about school after the summer.

He’s only 5 years old.

Cancer sucks.

But I’m thankful that just a couple of weeks after this news, my friends will be down visiting their friends and will hopefully be able to get alongside them at such a time as this.

I can only imagine.

And pray.

Pray for the chance of a miracle. Pray for peace. Pray for every single moment to be lived. Pray for strength. Pray for the best people to be around this family – loving them, supporting them.

Would you join me in praying?

A proud fake Auntie

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The picture above was taken by my godson one year ago – the first time I got to cuddle my best friend’s second son (my godson’s little brother!) – he was 1 day old.

This morning, I headed to their church – a pretty teeny congregation they’ve been helping to reestablish in the South of Edinburgh. It was the church’s first day in a new building (where they were able to have a Sunday school finally – yay!) and also the day where my friends gave thanks to God for their second son, and dedicated him to our God.

On Friday night, we had Powerpoint, and as the team gathered in the pub after the event, we got chatting to our weekend plans. I got reminisce with them how on the first Powerpoint of 2010, we were praying for my friend as she was giving birth. I had been sure that this baby, just like Elastatoddler, would be born on the day of Powerpoint! Throughout the event I was checking my phone awaiting news, getting worried at the feeling I had that all was not going well.

That feeling I found out later was not unfounded, but I’m so thankful that both mother and baby came through and I do think that ‘Mr Teapot’ (as I nicknamed him) was well worth it. He is cute, cuddly and such a good natured happy baby.

And though he was puketastic (that’s how he got his nickname), he never ONCE puked on his Auntie Laurie. Unlike his older brother…(yes Elastatoddler, I’ll never forget going to a Powerpoint practice with puke down my shirt & bra. Or how hilarious your Mummy & Daddy found that particular incident).

I’m feel very honoured to be their ‘Auntie Laurie’ even though I’m not really their Auntie, and I’m very proud of my honourary nephews.

They are an amazing gift from God.

I hope that as they grow older, the promise I made on Elastatoddler’s dedication to be part of their spiritual upbringing is one I will keep – especially as in the next few years they will become ‘Pastor’s Kids’.

And I’m so proud of my friends as well – I got to stand next to them as they made their wedding vows and they are amazing parents.

So to Carrie, Andy, Elastatoddler & Mr Teapot – Mwah x I love you all very muchly!! x

Compassion Sunday

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Today is Compassion Sunday

8 years ago, when I was experiencing my very first time at a Soul Survivor event I spent a lot of time in the marketplace. I was a brand new Christian, and just so excited to discover and learn. I was so desperate to know the purpose God had for my life.

My friend (who had been an integral part of my journey from non-believer to Jesus freak) and I discovered Compassion International. Though we knew our non-Christian parents would disapprove, we felt compelled to sponsor a child through Compassion. We actually had to hide the fact from our parents (who were supporting us through university – the money they sent us was for food, rent, books…not charities…) and we did because we knew we had plenty compared to so many.

We wanted to give some kids an opportunity to learn.

She chose a little girl from Indonesia. I came across a young boy from Ethiopia, who had 4 siblings (like me!), loved football and was almost identical ages with my youngest brother who was 7 years old at the time.

I remember getting our Compassion balloons after we filled the forms and set them off into the clear blue skies above Shepton Mallet…

Sponsoring him is by far the best decision I’ve made. There have been times in the last few years that I worried that I’d have to stop sponsoring him because of my financial situation, but thankfully God has provided. I deeply wish to sponsor another child through Compassion.

Now we are 8 years on. Henok and my little brother are both young men, and next Spring they’ll be celebrating their 16th birthdays.

So here in pictoral form is 8 years of sponsorship (sorry about the crap quality – I took snapped a picture of the 3 photos I have of Henok on my webcam).

My blogging friends Nicola, Carolyn, Rebecca, Pete & Brandi, Lindsey and Jenni also sponsor children through Compassion (plus others who don’t have blogs, and others that do have blogs I’ve not mentioned here I’m sure I’ve forgotten!). All of them will tell you how amazing this organisation is. Pete and Lindsey have been to India and Guatemala respectively to see Compassion projects there.

People in the following countries can sponsor a child through Compassion International:

Australia

Canada

Germany

France

Italy

Netherlands

New Zealand

South Korea

Spain

Switzerland

UK

USA

It just might be that you give a child more opportunities, and possibly save their life today...

Things I learned at Rocky’s Plaice

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Last week I was hanging out at ‘Rocky’s Plaice’ – a holiday club programme for primary school aged children (4.5-11 years old) designed by Scripture Union. The programme takes you through some of the stories told in the book of Acts (just after the books at the start of the new testatment bible named after 4 guys…Matthew, Mark, Luke & John). The holiday club itself takes place in a chip shop (= Chippy, if you’re Scottish like me!)

So here’s what I learned in the last week…

1. That there’s some vision moment that Peter has before he meets Cornelius in the bible. I don’t remember that part of the story. This makes for interesting leader fail moment when you are trying to help a bunch of 5-9 year olds put the pictures telling the story in the correct order and the children’s bible you’re holding has decided not to include that particular passage in its pages.

2. Children are a lot smarter and clued up than many adults give them credit for.

Scratch that. I didn’t learn that this week. I already knew that. But this week affirmed that…see this post for just one example.

3. Some sign language. I have been fascinated with sign language for a long time, my Grandad taught me the alphabet in British Sign Language (BSL) when I was but a kiddle. Plus I used to use Makaton with clients often when I worked in a respite centre for adults with learning disabilities.

4. I wanted to find out how close to BSL some of the actions were in the signs we were doing. A child corrected my version of the sign for ‘Jesus’. I’m wondering when the best time to let our pastors know that we got the signs for ‘sing’ and ‘praise’ the wrong way around.

Thankfully it’s not too much of an issue in a worship song…it may be an issue if using BSL in everyday conversation though. :)

**I may also have taken some enjoyment learning some Auslan from some of Adam Hills stand up shows with sign interpreters (very sinful of me…I know). But that’s not something I learned at Rocky’s Plaice.**

5. When you’ve spent a few years studying Health Sciences, it’s tough to hold on to your breakfast watching an episode of Rocky’s Plaice sometimes…especially when you watch things go into the Deep Fat Fryer.

6. It’s fun to dance and sing together, especially when you’re doing it for God.

7. It’s not so fun to realise you are 26 going on 66 and that not only does dancing make your back hurt, when you sit on the floor your knee lets out an almighty cracking crunching noise. 8O

8. Many many awful jokes. Seriously really bad ones…(worse that the ones your Dad might tell ya!)

9. People in your work will laugh at you on Monday morning when you start singing out ‘My God is big, my God is great, my God is fab and he’s my mate…’ even if they’re Christians too.

10. Mushy peas are truly the most disgusting ‘food’ ever. Seriously. Peas are gross enough without mushing them up and putting them in a tin. One word: BOGGING!

11. There’s only one thing more awesome than the Cleaning Crew (=2 lads from MBC being Mr Motivator only they’re dressed in aprons and holding very colourful feather dusters) and that’s trainee superstar chefs Salt n’ Vinegar…though the only way they will be allowed in any kitchen of mine is over my dead body (most likely caused by food poisoning).

12. I have a new appreciation of my friends’ kiddles. I’m proud of my friends’ parenting skills.

13. I’m in awe of the energy of people who do this kind of work all the time…play workers, primary school teachers, Children & Families Pastors, parents….I salute you!

14. I’m useless when I’m sleep deprived.

15. Glasses and long frizzy/curly (=messy) hair are hazardous when wearing a ‘Britney Spears’ mic.

16. I love being part of a team of people who work hard but most importantly encourage each other and have fun while doing it.

To sum up: it has been a week of learning and re-learning. It has been fun. It has been tiring. It has made me remember the fun of doing children and youth work in towns in Scotland with my friend Carrie (and others who have been part of our mega SCEM teams). At least this time I wasn’t trying to teach the kids the actions to ‘Hands, Hands, Fingers, Thumbs’ with a splinted wrist…! It was a little sad not to have a 2 year old joining in – particularly as Elastatoddler learned the dance to With God’s Power right along with me!

And hopefully I did not corrupt any children…

…………………………..at least not this week.