A - Z Challenge - F: Friend

This is a little something I wrote as an exercise on a writers' weekend. We had to write a parable; a narrative that held a deeper meaning. Something that could be read on different levels, allowing the reader to pull out truths as they saw them, embedded in story. Here it is.

My Friend (first published as 'Treasures Everywhere')

This afternoon I went for a walk with an old friend. We haven't spent time together for quite a while - I'm not sure why. He's always good company but I've kind of got into the habit of walking with other people, or even just by myself. That's when there's time for things like that at all, of course; everything is such a rush these days!  Anyway, my friend seemed a little surprised to be asked but as soon as he heard my voice he was full of enthusiasm. So delighted was he to hear from me that my pleasure was tinged with a little guilt, if I'm honest.

Anyway, we went for a stroll on a beautiful sunny summer's day. It was very pleasant. We chatted about this and that - or at least I did; he didn't say very much and so I felt a bit as if I needed to fill the gaps in the conversation. I probably went on a bit but if he found my monologue tiresome he didn't let on. He just listened and smiled encouragingly.

We reached a point where the path forked into two. Left or right? I hesitated.

My friend knew the area much better than I did, so I asked him which was best. He shrugged  and told me it was my choice. I felt a pang of irritation at his reticence, but quickly rallied.

After scrutinising each path, I chose the one that looked easiest walking. I was only wearing my battered old flip flops; not the best choice for a walk in the woodland, as it turns out.

I chided myself that I should have been more prepared. I hadn't really given much thought to what I'd need before I set off.

Easy walking indeed! Before long the path took a sharp and rocky upward turn. I set off up the steep gradient somewhat hesitantly as it would have been very easy to slip in my inadequate footwear. A couple of times I felt the reassurance of my friend's hand on my elbow, which was very welcome. I was soon out of breath and stopped talking to him completely. Again, he didn't seem to mind but stayed beside me as we climbed. Later I realised that when we got to the top and flopped down for a much-needed breather I should have thanked him for his assistance, because I'm not sure I'd have made it without him, but embarrassingly, it didn't cross my mind.

Funnily enough, it was the downhill section where I nearly had an accident.  Feeling more confident, I had taken the lead and my friend did not call me back as I strode off ahead. He followed not far behind, but let me do my thing. I very nearly came unstuck as my bare foot slipped on some loose rocks and I stumbled badly. After that rush of adrenalin I slowed my pace a little and stayed closer to my sure-footed friend. The experience had also taught me to pay closer attention to the path to try to avoid another mishap.

I was so focused downward that I would not have seen the baby rabbits playing in a clearing, if my friend had not gently stopped me and pointed. What a delight!  He encouraged me to slow down and not worry so much about each single step, or what was round the next corner. I resolved to follow his advice and go at a more leisurely pace so that I didn't miss any other wonders along the way. It is too tricky to concentrate on one's feet and take in the scenery at the same time.

After a while, we had a welcome rest on a bench. My friend produced a bottle of cool water and handed it to me. I looked at him in astonishment; he seemed to know just what I needed! I drank deeply - almost forgot to leave him any if I'm honest - and felt much revived. I sighed happily as we took in the vista below our vantage point.

The woods opened out below onto a lush meadow of wild flowers bordering a small, still lake. It was the perfect spot - so very beautiful. I could feel the gentle breeze cooling my forehead and hear the whisper of the trees and the song of the birds. I slipped off my sandals, felt the soft grass soothe my sore feet and inhaled the fragrance of honeysuckle. What a treat! I smiled broadly at my friend, who seemed to be taking pleasure in my relaxation.

Much restored, we resumed our walk at a much gentler pace. Neither of us said very much; conversation seemed unnecessary.

We walked companionably side by side, stopping often to admire a flower, a leaf, a ladybird. My friend had the gift of spotting nuggets of interest that I would have walked past, but as I paid attention and fell into step with him, I began to notice more and more for myself. Each time I paused to examine something, my friend encouraged me with his delighted response to my observations.

We rounded a corner and I realised that we were almost at the spot where the path had divided earlier. The sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees lighting up the leaves in more shades of green than I had known existed. I remarked that it had not really mattered which route we took through the woods; there were treasures to be found everywhere! My friend laughed affectionately and I felt full of gratitude toward him. His company had made all the difference.

It had been such an agreeable afternoon that we made plans to meet again for another wander in the woods. My friend somehow seemed to have all the time in the world and would have agreed a date and time immediately; he seemed a little disappointed as I flicked through the pages of my well-worn diary for the next few busy weeks and drew a blank. I promised to telephone him at my earliest convenience. 

We said our goodbyes and I left him leaning on the stile at the end of the path to the woods watching my departure with a strange look on his face.

Glancing at my watch I realised that a number 62 was due from the high street any moment. If I got a wriggle on I could be home in time for the prayer meeting at church.

I hurried towards the bus stop.

A-Z Challenge - C: Cat

Our furry friend came to us completely out of the blue. I was sitting on a garden chair in a socially-distanced kind of way last summer with an old friend who was telling me the sad story of her Mum, who had been taken into hospital after a series of falls, and was unlikely to regain her independence. We sat and mused for a while, and then she asked me if I knew anyone who might be able to take care of her Mum's cat.

I didn't immediately leap at the chance - having been so used to resisting the children's petitions for a pet (dog, hamster, snake(!), rabbit, rat, tropical fish; one sleepy morning I almost adopted a Bearded Dragon until I realised what I was agreeing to), it didn't actually occur to me that the homeless cat might come to live with us. 

And then it did occur to me. Maybe (like many, many others) the Covid 19 lockdown made me feel in need of furry comfort, or distraction, or perhaps I was just ready for something new, but within days the little black cat came home with us. 

Her name is Noodle*, and she is just lovely. She is very small, delicate, mainly black with a little white patch on her chest and another even smaller one on her tummy. She has the highest pitched miaow that you've ever heard - a very cute little squeak. 

She is a rescue cat, abandoned when tiny, so she's a little bit wary and reserved after such a tough kittenhood, but after six months she is warming up to us, and is increasingly affectionate. 

*Noodle. Yes, I know. Believe me when I say it could have been worse; you should have heard some of the suggestions. It is less than fortunate that 'Noodle' often gets shortened to 'Nood' or 'Noo', or (shudder) 'Nudders', but mostly she is 'Cat' or 'Little One'. 

She is a little furry life-changer. 

After initially thinking that she'd be good for the children (now 14 and 15), it has become increasingly clear to me that the main beneficiaries of Noodle's arrival are Bryan and I. We love her to bits. She has us absolutely wrapped around her paw and we love it. She walks all over us (literally) and we don't mind. 

She is soft and warm and endlessly fascinating and has been so, so good for us at a time when so much in life has been turned upside down. A creative and unexpected answer to prayer. 

Yes, I think that Noodle is a God-send. My friend and her Mum are happy that she's loved and looked after, and we are besotted. 

She seems to know when someone is upset, and while she is definitely not a lap-cat, she will butt against you, purr in your ear and make it so clear that she wants petting that it's a therapeutic distraction. She likes company (on her terms, of course) and will follow me room to room just to settle down and nap nearby. She likes it when you scratch her head, her ears or under her chin but just because she lies on her back with her legs in the air and her tummy exposed does by no means mean that she is inviting you to stroke it. She prefers fishy food to meaty food and is more or less impossible to resist when she begs for treats. 

A simple little thing, but transformational for our us. For me. A new focus, a sweet and beguiling new personage to get to know and look after. Interesting and absorbing, I find myself reading books about cat psychology and interpreting feline body language, much to my daughters' amusement. We are beginning to understand each other a bit, Noodle and I. It is an amazing thing when a creature gradually learns to trust you, to allow herself to relax and be vulnerable. 

I think I am learning a lot from her. 

In the night and in the morning

Well, Father God, you know that I'm tired, so I'm off to bed soon, but I wanted to say hello and tell you about something before I go upstairs.

Sleep seems a bit difficult at the moment. I'm not sure why, sometimes it's because I wake in the night and my head seems so full of things that I can't get back to sleep again, and sometimes it's because a bit of me hurts - but there are other times when I just don't seem to get to sleep and I don't know why.

The other night was one of those nights when I did know why I couldn't sleep. Well, to start with, I could sleep, but in the early hours I awoke abruptly.

2am. Shrieks from Elizabeth's room. Surely she was being stung by a million wasps, or the roof was falling in, or some dire nightmare was frightening her witless.

Nope.

'What is it, love? What's wrong?'  (Me, breathless, having vaulted out of bed and sprinted along the landing at warp speed.)

'I woke up.'

'And...?'

'I didn't know why I'd woken up so I shouted you.'

Hmm. What do you say to that?  The only weapon I have is to write it all down so I don't forget and bring it out at some wedding speech sometime along with the chicken pox photos. Heh heh heh.

2am and of course the bloodcurdling yells from Lizzie's room had roused Katy, who wondered if the house was on fire. Seriously. Many reassurances later in one room and then the other, and then back to the first, I finally crawled back under the duvet (in my own bed) and closed my eyes. Yeah, right.

2am. 2.30am. By 3am my head was a whirl of all the stuff that I'm trying not to worry about at the moment. All distorted, pulled out of shape, exaggerated, coloured in scary colours and with creepy shadows. It all seemed too much.

Left side, right side, on my back, unclench teeth, make effort to relax shoulders. Release the frown. Unclench everything.

Eventually I sat up and started to blurt it all out in my journal. At 3am. Usually putting the light on is the last thing I do as I'm trying to lull myself back to sleep but there was nothing for it. I unburdened myself to my Friend, who happens to be Lord God and Creator of the Universe. You.

You sat with me for half an hour as I scribbled away and had a moan and dumped it all in front of you. Then you settled me down, pulled the duvet up to my chin and stroked my hair until I was asleep. Which didn't take long.

Really, Lord (not that it'll be too much of a surprise to you), you gave me peace. You took the stuff I was worried about. You took it away, and in its place you gave me peace. And sleep. It was quite amazing.

Something occurred to me; if it had been daytime, I most probably would have sent a text to a friend having a flap about my anxieties, or I might have asked them to say a prayer for me, or I might have found someone to chat to about it. Probably over coffee and cake. But, since it was 3am and lattes are hard to find, and also the rest of the local world was fast asleep, that's why I thought of you first. Or maybe you prompted me, but this time, I came to you.

Friends give a listening ear, coffee and cake give a degree of emotional comfort, text messages and emails give an opportunity to vent, but only you give all these things and peace as well. You always listen, you are endlessly patient, you understand me, you don't laugh at me or take offence, you don't hold what I say against me; soak it all up and say, 'Don't worry. I'm here and I love you.'

Why on earth don't I go to you first all the time?

I learned something. I learned that you are there and you answer prayers and you honour your promises. You like it when I seek you first, and you soothed me that night just like I soothed my little girls who had woken with anxieties of their own. My Daddy. Snuggled me down and made it all ok.

I woke the next morning and wondered if it had actually been that way. I read back the entry in my journal and realised that it was, yes, it was exactly that way. I had been having a panic; I was letting things get out of control and there was no wonder that I couldn't sleep, the way the same things were ricocheting around my mind. You did a lovely thing for me, and it wasn't over.

As I was lying in bed with a smile on my face, remembering the 3am rendezvous with God, I noticed that the light round the edge of the curtains was golden. I drew them back a little way and the sunrise was spectacular. Just beautiful.

I gazed at the majesty of the beginning of a new day and this came to mind:

'Peace I leave you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.'

John 14:27

Now, don't get me wrong, I didn't get that word for word in my head with the chapter and verse and everything, but that's what you were telling me. I looked it up. What I heard right then was Peace.

I climbed back into bed and lay watching the sunrise. The sky was striped with red and orange and glittering goldleaf. A few minutes later the sun appeared from over the church tower and dazzled me where I lay. Gold was everywhere. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

As a start to a weekday it was pretty good.

Thankyou. For the middle of the night and for the early morning. You are my God, and you are amazing.

On the way home from the school run a couple of hours later the song in my headphones was YFriday's Reign In Me. One verse in particular put the smile back on my face.

'As the song of my life unfolds

And the truth of your love takes hold

You refine me like purest gold

Bright shining as the sun.'

At 3am when my head was hurting with worries, the truth of your love took hold of me indeed. And at 7am when your glory was falling around me on my pillows, I basked in the light of it. Lord I don't know what works you are doing in my life but I know that you are working in so many places, in so many ways. If you're refining me to make me into something that pleases you, bright shining as your Sun; then that's pretty bright. That's alright by me.

'You have opened my eyes to see

Something beautiful, something real

Now the sound of your glorious name

Is beating in my heart.

Reign in me, reign in me,

Majesty, reign in me

Yesterday, today, forever

You are in me, living in me

Every hour, each day, each moment

Take all of me, Lord, take all of me...'*

Lord the other night at 3am you showed me how faithful you are; you opened my eyes even as you gently closed them. You settled me with tenderness and love like the child that I am. You calmed me and comforted me and you gave me a peace that the world can't give. At 7am you smiled and reminded me who you were. There in the darkness and the shadows and there in the brilliance and the glory. I saw something beautiful; something real.

Praise your holy name. How amazing is it that the hand that put the stars in their places tucked me up in bed in the middle of the night when I was fretting about things that don't matter. You care for me.

You care. For me.

Thankyou, Lord. Reign in me.

Amen.

*K Riley, YFriday Great and glorious 2009 Survivor/Absolute records 

Rock of ages

'Hello again, Lord.

This morning I was feeling sad. Cross and sad. Hard done to. Unappreciated. You know the sort of thing. It was all people stuff. Hurt feelings and so on. It might all have been trivial but it was painful and I was sad. It felt very bad at the time.

I lay on my bed and had a little cry. I tried to read some of my devotional book but I wasn't really paying attention and had to keep starting the paragraph again. I was just feeling worse and worse. I decided to go off by myself for a little while.

I thought I'd find somewhere out in the countryside on my own and sit down and see if I could find you. As I drove off I wasn't sure where I was going and I had tears streaming down my face. I couldn't go anywhere in civilisation. I turned the worship music off because I didn't want to hear anything upbeat. 

Got where I was going. Parked the car. Bought a drink from the ice-cream van because I didn't have any change for the car park machine. Wondered if it was worth it as I only had half an hour. Placed ticket in window of car, locked up, trudged along path to find a place away from the myriad of hikers. 

Tear-stained and sniffly. Red-eyed and red-nosed, clutching a handkerchief. Everyone else there seemed to be kitted out with hiking boots and gaiters, rucksacks and walking poles. Those little transparent pockets with maps in. All organised and purposeful. 

Rock of ages, cleft for me

My favourite place. I left the path and began to meander among the rocks on the Edge. I kept stopping and looking about me for the right spot. I asked you to find me a place. It didn't take long. 

It was a hollow. A little rocky, grassy niche between a few mammoth boulders strewn there for centuries. I could sit on a smooth rock with my back against another and a few feet away more enormous stones sheltered me from the breeze and from anyone else. 

I could have been the only person in the world. 

I felt as if I was protected. Tucked away. Hidden. Surrounded on three sides. Enveloped. And not by rocks but by you. 

Safe. 

You know what came to mind?

This: 

'Rock of ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in thee.'

I hid myself in you.  It wasn't for very long, because I had to get back, but for a short space of time this morning I left my little world and sat with you in yours. Apart from some hikers miles away in the valley there was no-one in sight but I was not alone. You were all around me. All around me, just as you always are, but I was aware of your presence in a wonderful way. You were with me. You showed things to me. You were tapping my shoulder and pointing and saying, 'Look. Use your imagination.'

I could hear the birds. Countless voices, different calls.  I must find out about birdsong so that I know whose voice is whose. Sweet twittering and chirruping and the low call of the wood-pigeon. Swifts swooped and danced in the air. A kestrel hovered. A couple of bees buzzed in front of me. The wind whispered in long grass. A bird flew past level with the rocky edge and I could hear its whistling wing-beats. Another came to land close to me but was surprised to find me there and took off in a flutter of feathers. A dog barked and I heard its owner's whistle.  

So beautiful but so easy to miss.

The rock I was leaning against had horizontal striations which might tell a geologist something about its history. Not me; it just said to me that it had been around an awful long time. Millstone Grit. Different shades of sandstones in layer upon layer. 

Roses of lichen in a palette of grey and white flowered across the surface and soft green moss on the sides in the damp and shade. Rabbit pellets by my feet, heather in white, brown, cream and the palest of pink. A tiny spider made its way across the rock face. 

Down in the valley where the road curled round and back on itself the odd car went past. The irregular shaped fields, marked out with Derbyshire dry stone walls, were home sheep or cows, or horses, or crops. I was high enough looking down that huge oak and beech trees seemed small, dwarfed by the landscape of ridge and rocks. In the distance a forest of birch. 

Occasionally there was a small break in the clouds and sunshine played on the greenness for a moment or two until it disappeared again. 

Immediately to my right was a deep crevice in the rock. Dark enough for me to prevent me from seeing how far it went back into the hillside. At such an angle that the light was dim. In this crack in the rock was growing a fern. A small plant, sturdy and healthy-looking, growing in a most inhospitable spot. Damp and  hidden from view unless you were sitting exactly where I was sitting. I would never have noticed it if I were just walking past. You knew it was there. You showed it to me. 

Look, in the darkest places, life. Not just surviving, but flourishing. 

The fern was thriving in the darkness of it's little crevice. Unfurling it's fronds in the space it had taken root. 

'Rock of ages, cleft for me.Let me hide myself in thee.'

It was beautiful. Bright, improbable green against the grey and brown of the rock.  You can bring life out of darkness. Hope out of despair. Beauty out of ugliness.

As I leaned back the rock was hard behind me and cold underneath me. Each side of me there was rock. In front of me opened out a vista to gaze at for hours. Openness and space.  Unyielding stone behind and yet in front, a vision of your glory.

When my back is against the wall, there you are in front of me. With beauty and majesty and glory spread out to breathe new life into my soul.

When I was suffocating, there you were with fresh air.

Deep breaths.

A safe place. A few moments of stillness. Solitude. A space where my lungs could fill. I thought I was finding a place to have a cry and lick my wounds; maybe tell you all about my hurt feelings and upset, but instead you took my hand and led me to a place where you could soothe me. A spacious place.

'You brought me out into a spacious place...'

2 Samuel 22:20

Rock of ages. From the beginning of time you have been unchanging. All else fades or evolves or shifts. I know that the seemingly permanent landscape of the countryside that I love so much would alter unrecognisably before you will change even a tiny bit. You are firm and solid, reliable and faithful. Everlasting. Eternal. A safe harbour. A place to run to.

My refuge.

'Oh Lord, my strength and my fortress
my refuge in times of distress.'

Jeremiah 16:19

My rocky fortress indeed. Hidden from view.

I was distressed and you took me away to a place I could breathe. You held my hand and showed me your treasures and you smiled on me. My refuge indeed.

I may have missed church this morning but I still visited your sanctuary. I met you and we sat together a while. It was a holy place where I could worship.

Thankyou, my God.

On the way home I turned up the worship music and sang.

The Lord is my refuge

Hello again, Lord.

You're round and about today, I can tell. It's nice to have you here. I know that you're always here, but what I mean is that it's nice to feel you here. Nice to feel you close. 

Why is it that sometimes I don't realise how I'm feeling until I come into church? It's as if the Holy Spirit sees beyond the front that I put up, the 'How are you?' 'Oh I'm fine, thanks!' thing that we all do and says, 'No, I'm not having that. That's not how you are.'

Today I was fine. A bit mithered, perhaps, this morning having been allowed a small lie-in (I never refuse a lie-in, being chronically sleep deprived; any hour to catch up and I'm in) and so getting ready for church was a bit of a rush. For one reason and another by the time I arrived at church I had a head full of things and I was doing the prayers this morning too, which always makes me a bit preoccupied. So it wasn't until the first song that I stopped and thought and that was when I choked up. 

Here I am to worship. It's as if I finally look away from the things I'm juggling, or away from the detail of my anxiety and preoccupation and I lift my eyes to you, and when I do, I'm overwhelmed by you. Just lifting my words and my voice to you, just saying 'Here I am' was enough to bring tears to my eyes. Even when I hadn't realised that I was feeling tearful. 

It stands to reason that I should be a bit wobbly, I suppose. Tomorrow Katy goes in to hospital for her operation and I know that deep down I am dreading it. I've had a taste of what it's like to leave the child that you love defenceless in the hands of someone else and I didn't like it. I bet you didn't, either, did you, Lord? You knew what we were going to do to your beloved son and it was for our good, not his, that you sent him. For me, here I am trusting my lovely little girl to an experienced surgeon, and it's for her own good. Clearly the analogy breaks down here, but you know what I mean. I'm not keen on doing this again and the stakes are higher this time. So I come into church this morning thinking I'm fine, thankyou, and I'm not fine. 

Good talk, this morning. All about being rooted in Christ. 

'So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness.'

Colossians 2:6-7

It reminded me of a picture I had long, long ago in a period of spiritual joy and celebration, maybe as far back as April this year, or roundabout then. Certainly before things started to go wrong.  I saw myself as a tree. A big, solid oak tree with spreading branches. Sturdy and strong. With deep roots. I read somewhere that a tree's roots are as big as the branches and the tips of the roots reach out further than the canopy of the tree so that they can soak up rain as it falls. If the roots were shorter, they wouldn't reach out far enough and the tree's own canopy would stop them from getting any moisture. So roots have to reach a long way. They have to anchor the tree so that it doesn't blow over, no matter how big and heavy the tree or how strong the wind. 

How I want to be that big tree. I want to be eternal, secure, reliable, standing tall and reaching wide. Always the same, yet ever-changing. Growing. Living. Flourishing. How easily I am knocked over when the wind blows. I am rooted in you but quite often my roots aren't hanging on tightly enough. They don't go deep enough to stop me from swaying dangerously. I look for other people to hold me up instead of reaching into you and letting you plant me firmly. I am fed by what I surround myself with, by what I read and what I do and some of these things are good, worthy, and they keep me going but they don't nourish me as you would, if only I reached my roots out beyond the canopy to suck up your moisture. 

I was singing and I found myself praising you and saying, 'You can do this, Lord. You can do this for me, can't you?'  And the tears came because I know that it's true. You'll help me through the next few days. You'll take care of my little girl and you'll take care of me. Because you're faithful. You never fail.

Faithful one, so unchanging

Ageless one, you're my rock of peace

Lord of all I depend on you

I call out to you, again and again

I call out to you, again and again

You are my rock in times of trouble

You lift me up when I fall down

All through the storm

Your love is the anchor

My hope is in you alone.

Brian Doerksen

So then you spoke to me in this song, as you tend to do, presumably because you can't get me to hear in many other ways, but you know that I like to sing, so I'd probably be paying attention.

You are my rock, Father God. In times of trouble indeed; and in any other time. I'm holding onto you in these times when life is difficult and I'm feeling overwhelmed and you don't move. You're steady. You don't change. Without you as an anchor I'd be swept right out to sea and I'd sink beneath the waves. My hope is in you, Lord God. 

I managed the prayers with only a few wavery moments and I got myself back together in time to smile brightly and leave without a meltdown. I was moved that you had met me and spoken to me. 

My hope is in you. You can do this for me.

On the way out of church a wise friend caught me and said that the Lord had given her a word; Psalm 91 was for me. She didn't know why, but that you wanted me to read Psalm 91. I said thankyou, a little bewildered, and carried on home. 

Psalm 91

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High

will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

I will say of the Lord, 'He is my refuge and my fortress, 

my God, in whom I trust.'

Well, I did. I do. You are my Rock. My hope is in you. I know that you can do this for me.

Surely he will save you 

from the fowler's snare

and from the deadly pestilence.

He will cover you with his feathers,

and under his wings you will find refuge; 

his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

I love the idea that I can hide under your wings like a baby duck. I love the image that it gives of safety and comfort and trust. I want to wriggle under your feathers and snuggle up close to the warmth and safety of your body so that I can feel your heartbeat. I can shut out the world and know that I am protected.

You will not fear the terror of the night

nor the arrow that flies by day,

nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness

nor the plague that destroys at midday.

Why would I fear anything if I am protected by you? You only can make promises like this. I feel that ill health is all around me at the moment - I'm going to be spending the better part of this week in hospital with my little girl and we've been fighting the illness that's troubling her for nearly six months. I know that there are so many people who are much more seriously ill but I am drawn to the idea that we need not fear illness. I don't know if I'm reading too much into this but, hey, I feel better because of it.

A thousand may fall at your side,

ten thousand at your right hand,

but it will not come near you.

You will only observe with your eyes

and see the punishment of the wicked.

Ah. Not sure what to say about this bit. I just like the 'It won't come near you' bit. 

If you say, 'The Lord is my refuge,'

and you make the most high your dwelling,

no harm with overtake you,

no disaster will come near your tent.

Oh my Lord I say 'You are my refuge'. Where will I go if not to you? I want to live in you, and I want you to live in me. I want you to make me into a place fit for a King to live. I want to be part of you. 

For he will command his angels concerning you

to guard you in all your ways;

they will lift you up in their hands,

so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

Amen. Thankyou Lord. Thankyou for your loving care and your protection. I've been fighting battles for ages, it seems, and I can carry on because I know that you stand with me. Thankyou.

You will tread on the lion and the cobra;

you will trample on the great lion and the serpent.

'Because he loves me,' says the Lord, 'I will rescue him;

I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.

I do love you. You are the Lord. The Holy One. You are the Creator of Heaven and Earth. You are my God.

He will call on me, and I will answer him;

I will be with him in trouble,

I will deliver and honour him.

With long life I will satisfy him

and show him my salvation.'

I called on you and you did answer me. I can't do anything but you can. You hold my days in your hand, and those of my four year old daughter. I can't tell you how much this has comforted me and shored me up today. Well, I don't suppose that really matters, because you already know. 

Well. 

You meant that for me? You are speaking those words to me? I am amazed. To say that I read those words and was blown away is a bit of an understatement. Lord God, you'd do that for me? I can understand that you spoke like that to David or Moses, or whoever wrote this powerful psalm, and that these Heroes of the Bible were probably used to hearing you like this. But me? I'm a Mum and I do the school run and I can't hang a picture and I talk too much and I struggle with my quiet time and I like church but I have family politics and a short temper and I'm very bad at being consistent and prayerful. Yet you would bless me with huge words like these?

I am humbled indeed. 

You are my refuge and I want to dwell in you. I'm just not good at staying there; I keep running to you and hiding under your wings and then when the rain stops and the weather clears I creep off out again and think I can manage on my own, just me. Then it starts again and there I am, clamouring for help. And sometimes I turn to you only after I've looked everywhere else, and yet still you are loving and forgiving enough to send a message to me to say 'Don't be afraid, you're safe. I'll keep you safe.'

I am humbled indeed. 

 

The circle prayer

Hey.
God Almighty. Loving Lord. 

Just before I go to bed I've got to tell you this. 

Not that you don't already know. After all, you were there.

You were very much there. 

Tonight Katy had a hard time settling at bedtime. She wasn't being naughty, or even shouting a lot, she was just awake. At bedtime I lay down next to her and we snuggled and I just love the way she cuddles into me and I love the way she smells, and I love the way she adopts a quiet little confidential voice as she tells me what Barney has been up to and so on. Tonight she wanted me to tell her something. 

There's this thing we do. I do it with both girls. It goes like this:

Me:     Katy Murray, does your Mummy love you?

Katy:  Yes.

Me:     How much does she love you?

Katy:  All round the world and back again.

Me:     More than that. 

(insert bit where we exaggerate more and more until we move on)

Me:     Why does she love you?

Katy:   Because I'm Katy.

Me:     That's right.  When will she stop loving you?

Katy:   Never. Not ever. Not never nohow.

Me:      That's right. I love you very much and I always will.

Then tonight:

Katy:   Like Jesus.  And God. 

Me:     That's right. God loves you even more than me, if that's possible.

(Katy is drawing a circle on the palm of her hand with the other index finger)

Katy:   Will you do the circle prayer?

Now, as you'll remember, the last time Katy went into hospital a good friend of mine loaned us Hospital Teddy to come with us. Hospital Teddy's job is to accompany children on trips to hospital, and he was at Katy's side for her last operation. He's with us and packing his overnight bag for another trip. (Actually, he never went home owing to having been temporarily assimilated into Katy's stuffed toy collection.)

Hospital Teddy's owner said a special prayer for Kate on the morning she went into hospital back at the beginning of June.

Circle Katy, Lord

Keep comfort near

and discouragement afar.

Keep peace within

and turmoil out.

Circle Katy, Lord.

Keep protection near

and danger afar.

Circle Katy, Lord.

Keep hope within

and despair without.

Circle Katy, Lord.

Keep light near

and darkness afar.

Circle Katy, Lord

Keep peace within

and anxiety without.

The eternal Father, Son and Holy Spirit

shield Katy on every side.

Amen.

Katy had remembered the prayer and the circles drawn on her hand as it was read. She made the connection between one operation and another and she made the association between the love of her Mummy and the love of God. 

Can you really love her more than I do?

I was in awe. I bet the angels were singing. 

Disaster.

I couldn't find the prayer. I have a copy somewhere but I couldn't find it. I made up something from what I could remember but it wasn't the same. She snuggled down to sleep but she didn't get off. 

I sent a message to my friend asking if she'd send over the circle prayer for Katy. She did, straight away.

A while later she was still awake. I took the prayer up to her and she had me say it twice, while drawing little circles on the palm of her hand. She smiled and when I said, 'Amen' she nodded with a big smile. Then she snuggled down into her pillows and mountain of soft toys and as I got to the door she said to me:

'Mummy, when you're sad, I'm going to ask Daddy to read you the circle prayer, and then you'll feel better too."

And she closed her eyes and put her thumb in her mouth and held Scruffy Barney close to her cheek.

Ah.

Loving Lord, there are so many things about this that blow my mind. She remembered the prayer and she associates it not only with going into hospital but with feeling better.  She must be thinking about her hospital visit on Monday and she must be worrying.  Tonight the prayer helped. You helped my baby girl.  She's only four, but she knew what she wanted to help her and when I found it for her she was comforted. 

So much more.  She knows that you love her. She knows that you will never stop loving her and she knows that there's nothing she can do to make you love her less and there's nothing she can do to make you love her more. Praise you, my wonderful Lord. You have given her the gift of faith. 

She wants me to find the same comfort that she found on the occasions that I'm upset or worried. She wants me to hear the circle prayer and then I'll feel better. Thankyou Lord for her faith and for her love for me. 

Who says that ministry to small children is all one way? Tonight she was the one with the wisdom; I was humbled. She was troubled and she knew what would help. She asked for it and it was as she believed it would be. She was comforted. She told me that it would help me too. I can learn from that. 

Amen Amen Amen. 

Lord, thankyou for the wonderful thing that happened tonight.
Thankyou for wise and perceptive friends who gave us this little prayer when it was needed.
Thankyou that this friend picked up my message and responded immediately, that Katy was still awake and that she felt better.

May she know your presence more every day. May the little fire of faith that is clearly in her heart burn ever brighter. 

Thankyou. From the bottom of my heart. 

You remain the same

Nothing has changed and so much all at the same time. This week I have been at the very end of my tether; just feeling so hopeless and miserable, and then since then there have been some little sparks of joy that can only have come from you.

I have had the chance to talk to several wise and supportive friends this week and I know that I have friends who are praying for me. Nothing has changed; Katy's lump is still there and growing, the doctors haven't got any closer to making her better; she still isn't eating properly and her tantrums grow more frequent every day, but today I am feeling better about things. And it's not because of the mystical Good Night's Sleep either as I was late in bed last night and early up this morning as war broke out in Elizabeth's room before 7am as Kate decided it would be a good idea to wake Lizzie up to tell her that she was making off with her Lego plane to turn it into a swing for Barney. 

So, here I am. Someone recently said to me that if you're going through hard times, find a song and hang onto it. This was easy for me as I have a song that chose me only a few days ago.

You are the voice of hope
The anchor of my soul
When there seems to be no way
You make it possible
You are the prince of peace
Amidst adversity
My lips will shout for joy
To you the most high

You are indeed the voice of my hope, Father God. I don't know where I'd be without you. For every time I ask where you are when I need you, or wonder with frustration why you aren't performing miracles to make Katy better or solve my problems, there are two occasions where I know that I wouldn't want to be where I am without you. I know that you are the prince of peace, and where you are there is peace, so today I know that you are in my heart.

Where there seems to be no way, you make it possible, Lord. On Monday I was feeling so defeated that I didn't know how I was going to make it to the other end of the week, and yet you have blessed me with friends who have hugged and listened and advised and pointed me back to you. You have blessed me with spookily relevant Bible readings in my daily notes and you have comforted and challenged and spoken sternly. You have given me sleep and cuddles from my girls.

And through the storm, yet I will praise you
Despite it all, yet I will sing
Through good and bad, yet I will worship
For you remain the same, King of Kings

This is undoubtedly a storm in my life; the wind seems to have been blowing hard for a while and some days I've leaned into it and made progress forwards and other days I've let it blow me away. It's raining hard and I'm soaked through but on days like today I'm looking for a rainbow. I know that you won't leave me without one.

You remain the same. You are the same God who touches me to tell me that you love me. You are the same God who sent his Son to die for me. You are the same yesterday, today and forever. You are the beginning and the end. You hold history in your hand and you don't age or forget. You are eternal and you are everything. You are the same God who delights in me and won't let me fall. Why do I doubt it?

You remain the same; it's me that changes. You are constant, unchanging; it's me that blows this way and that and forgets and remembers and gets confused and jumps to conclusions. You don't change.

Through good and bad, yet I will worship. I will keep on praising you when the sun is out and when the clouds are low and threatening. I will hang on to you and evil will flee from me. I will trust you because you love me.

Thankyou for the little seed of joy you planted in my heart this week, Lord. Help me to water it and make it grow and not starve it until it shrivels up. Help me to take it with me so that I can keep myself going with it. Thankyou for my friends, my song and my family, even though they drive me mad at times.

I am blessed indeed to be your child, and I'm so grateful that you have endless, endless patience as my Daddy.