Friday, February 22, 2013

Of truth and grace and boys and blade runners

At breakfast we talk in grownup code. But Cam cracks it and says he remembers Oscar. He ran a race on the TV. Did Oscar hurt himself running too fast in a race, Cam asks. Murray explains about legs and blades and things. Cam is all wow and smiling like there’s kindred congenital defect comprehension. I say how actually Oscar is in jail because something terrible happened and he shot at his girlfriend and they are trying to find out if he did it on purpose or if it was a mistake and either way we need to pray for Oscar because either way he needs Jesus and Jesus forgives and there’s always truth and grace. Cam screws up his eyes – looks hard through the air. Because he’s into goodies and baddies and black and white and this is a tough one.

At supper there’s a lot of tomato sauce and silliness while the world stands still to hear the verdict of bail or no bail and the nation is reeling and accusations fly and support bolsters. And all I can think is but for the grace, but for the grace go I and these boys so little-innocent and so deeply afflicted with the human condition just like their mother. I’m wet-cloth wiping the supper mess and praying quite desperate that these boys of mine will live life the way they want it tweeted and that these tomato-saucey fingers will cling to truth and grace, truth and grace. 

Thursday, February 14, 2013

God’s glory in thunder and burnt mince

Dusk and the sky is rumbling. Cam is all bedtime ecstasy. Scott is tears and terror: ‘Mommy! Switch off thunder!’ I say how only Jesus can switch off thunder. Murray comes home and the party moves to our bedroom. Four people, one duvet. He reads Snowstorm and it kind of matches the moment though it’s tamer than it sounds. Cam asks how long does it take in an aeroplane to Europe and can we go play in the snow? Scott hugs my head. Cam giggles – snuggles – says it feels like Christmas Eve. I’m starving and the mince is catching on the stove. We’ll eat when Jesus has switched off the thunder and Murray has switched off the light. I don’t care about burnt mince ‘cause I’m cosy-drowsy on a queen-sized patch of the planet under the covers with the three biggest landowners of the tracts of my heart.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Keep Calm and Take Courage: Cameron and Scott’s Book of Brave

Dear Cam and Scott

If I had to pick one word to sum up all the things I pray for you it would be courage.

Courage to stand up and be counted for Jesus when the rest of the world is laughing him off.

Courage to stand up for the downtrodden, the different, the teased.

Courage to stand up for yourself when you are the downtrodden, the different, the teased.

Courage to choose your attitude and your actions.

Courage to treat a lady with dignity and grace. Courage to be gentle and strong. Courage to put her needs above yours. Courage to get the hell out of there when the world is telling you to get naked. Courage to wait for her at the end of the aisle.

Courage to choose friends who honour God when the world is telling you to run with the pack.

Courage to face your potential and get busy living it. Courage to adventure and risk and dare to live fully.

Courage to drop the burdens in prayer and to worship in the storms and take up the easy yoke in a difficult world.

Courage to be like your Dad.

That’s what I pray. Courage.

Just a note – courage doesn’t mean there won’t fear. And courage doesn’t mean macho, it means moral. And also, courage is always going to be the path of most resistance.

So, we’ve started your own Book of Brave. We’ll write down the fears and we’ll pray. We’ll make memories of your braveness – all the times you chose courage above what was easy or popular or less embarrassing.

Love you my bears,



PS: I got the courage journal idea from a girl I was at school with. She’s now a super-mom and a super-blogger on the other side of the world, and I think she’s just great.