It's a rainy day, and I didn't sleep well last night, and a few duff things have happened today, but I am alright. I'm OK.
Recently my life has been like a rollercoaster - at one point almost euphoric because I know that you are doing something with me at the moment; I can feel it, I can see it and things are not as they used to be - in a good way! I'm happy and excitable and full of plans. Then next day, or later the same, I'm paralysed by doubts and fears and the old insecurities which aren't really put to bed after all. I feel low and moody and unsure and easily rattled.
But today hasn't been like that. Today has just been normal. Ho hum. But I thought I'd say something even if there's no dramatic point, no blazing banner across the sky, and no moment when I felt I had something special to share.
Today, Rainy Tuesday, I have been:
1. Disappointed: the alarm went off as I was just turning over to get a cool bit of the pillow, mistakenly secure in the belief that there were many hours before morning. Hate that.
2. Frustrated: normal state of affairs over breakfast with two small children. Shoehorning them into clothes, stepping on dropped cornflakes, mopping up spilled apple juice, locating missing bookbags.
2a. Angry: as above.
2b. Shouty: as above
2c. Impatient: as above
2d. Guilty: having dropped them both off at nursery and school, wondering why I was so cross earlier on when they are clearly so small, so beautiful, so adorable...
3. Bored: swimming for an hour
4. Tired: swimming for an hour
5. Triumphant: swimming for an hour
6. Embarrassed: bumping into someone I know in the shower after swimming, complete with raccoon-like goggle marks around eyes.
7. Affectionate: not wanting to put Katy down after I'd picked her up from school.
8. Delighted: watching Katy do a new dance that she's made up
9. Worried: going to see a friend who's ill
10. Impressed: listening to Elizabeth read her new books from the purple shelf at school. Do you know, Lord, she can really read now!
11. Relaxed: coffee and surf on the internet while children watch telly
12. Annoyed: relaxing moment shattered by full scale fist fight between children
13. Appreciative: Mum's home made soup and garlic bread for tea
14. Irritatated: the discovery that Elizabeth has found an old potty in the loft and decided to wee in it, then helpfully attempted to deposit contents in toilet. Missed.
15. Sad: Talked to Bryan in London on the phone; wishing he could get a job closer to home.
16. Happy: Elizabeth made me a little card that said, 'I love you Mummy' on it. She should have been in bed but hey.
17. Content: The rain is drumming on the roof and rattling against the windows but it's warm and cosy in my kitchen and I have a nice cup of coffee and I'm sitting here chatting to you, and it's still early enough for me to have an early night.
...and so on and so on. Normal day at the coal face, I reckon, Lord.
The really special thing is that you are with me through all the little stuff, all the minutiae of my daily life; the school runs, the shopping trips, the brushing up of the cornflakes, just as you're with me when the big stuff happens. I listened to a worship CD in the car today and nothing leaped out at me as being a message from you, but I'm coming to know that it doesn't mean you're not next to me in the passenger seat.
Thankyou that you're interested in my humdrum life, and you don't just turn up when there's a big event. I mean, thankyou that you do turn up when there's a big event - because I don't want to do that stuff by myself; but I'm trying to learn to see you in the small things too.
To notice them, to remark upon them, not just turn up my collar and hurry by.
Today it was raining but your creation is just as impressive as when the sun shines, and for me to stop and thank you for it on a dark, dank day early in the year is always going to be an act of will. There are days when the world shouts 'Praise God!' to me, and then there are days like today, when I sort of mutter it under my breath. But I'm trying to say it anyway.
My coffee's gone cold. Think I might head off for that early night.