To my pregnant friends,

To my pregnant (and recently pregnant) friends,

Thank you
For how you've told me you are pregnant via message or in a 1-2-1 chat before you announced your happy news to a group of our friends.
For being honest about the fertility journey you have been on too. It's great to talk periods, contraception, struggles, hormones and how no one told you about the folic acid you could have been taking for months already.
For asking how I am.
For not making everything about babies but also not being afraid to talk to me about them either.
For inviting me to your baby shower and not being offended if I don't come (I've been, it's not fun)
For letting me be part of your baby's life, for letting me cuddle and feed them. I do love babies.

To my non-pregnant friends,

I see you.

Thank you
For sharing your stories with me, I'm honoured.
For being a safe place to go to with jealous thoughts and in my sad moments.



To all my friends,

Thank you
For journeying on this thing we call life with me.

Rach

The Child(less) of Christmas

Christmas is all about children.
Or so it seems as a childless adult.

Both in church, where it’s nativity season telling the story of the holy baby, and even in my sign choir where during “silent night” again and again I’ve signed holding the holy child, representing that special mother.
And in the rest of the world, adverts, facebook, the latest exploits of that naughty elf on the shelf that my many parent friends are sharing.

The season is all about children.

Also many of my closest friends have given birth this year, including to my beautiful God Daughter, so this Christmas more than ever before I seem to be surrounded by babies.

Now I’m childless for a myriad of reasons, most of which are completely out of my control, and I’m not going to go into right now, it's not the why that is important but just that I am childless not by choice, you need for the context. I also have a number of close friends facing fertility issues this year, and I’m sure I have in previous years but maybe without knowing it.

The thing that struck me most was deciding which Christmas card to send to which of our friends. “unto us a child is born” feels like a mockery to those not holding a child this Christmas, so if you got one of those you have probably had a baby recently, and we do hope for you that this is a very special first family Christmas with your own special baby to celebrate.

I’m preaching tomorrow on the other baby of Christmas, the one born to an old barren mother, the one who’s father was so shocked his wife could get pregnant he was totally speechless. The Bible is full of miracle babies, but then it wouldn’t tell the story of baby-less women as there was no child to grow into someone remarkable.

Maybe it’s because I just turned 30, maybe it’s everything 2018 has held (ups and downs, lots of change, death and parties) and maybe every Christmas has always had a baby to its centre. But this year, like when I was aged 7 and upset I didn’t get to be Mary in the nativity, this year I’m very aware there is no child in my Christmas.

I don't want this to turn into a, "it will all be ok cos Jesus" blog. Because right now I'm sad and jealous, and my Christmas feels a bit empty.

However, there is of course a baby in my Christmas, Jesus, and tomorrow I will preach about joy in all things. The deep seated God given happiness, looking on the bright side of life's journey, and I do truly believe that, as I hold on to that baby, that most important baby of Christmas that all will be well. That doesn't mean life will be easy, that tomorrow I will wake up and all my dreams will come true, and that joy is not coloured by the sadness, anger, fear and disgust that life also carries. (Can you tell I found the Inside Out film very helpful in understanding emotions?)

So this Christmas I seek joy through sadness, in the children and adults I get to journey through life with and in the Saviour I seek to serve who came to earth and dealt with being a human with all our complex emotions.

Placing the child in the centre

I don't often write prayers but sometimes I have an idea, and can't find what I want on google so I have to write it myself. Feel free to use it or adapt it if you wish.
I used this when preaching on Mark 9:36-37.

As we place the child in the centre, we pray for all God’s children across the world, those hurt, unsafe or starving, those ill and dying, those lonely or alone.

God parent of all, be with your children

As we place the child in the centre, we pray for all those who hold power, who’s decisions impact the lives of others, may they choose to protect those in their care. We pray for those who lead and teach, may they enable others to grow to their full potential

God parent of all, be with your children

As we place the child in the centre, we pray for parents, grandparents, God parents and all those who act like parents. We pray for those for whom parenthood is difficult, those who have lost a child, and those who long to be parents.

God parent of all, be with your children

As we place the child in the centre, we pray for those children known to us, the children in our Sunday school and youth groups, the children we are related to, or love as our own, those we see grow day by day and those we see infrequently, those we know by name and those we don’t.

God parent of all, be with your children

As we place the child in the centre, we pray for those known to us who at this time need to know your love – (prayer book)

God parent of all, be with your children

As we place the child in the centre, we pray for ourselves, reminding ourselves that we are beloved children of God, the God who knows our needs before we even ask.

God parent of all, be with your children.

Amen

Adult or Fake?

I've been thinking for a while - What does it mean to be an adult?

By many standards I am; I'm in my mid-late 20s, married, own a house, have a car, have my second graduate job and know I could look after a pet if I wanted one, which I don't.

But really, I feel like I'm faking it.

There are days when I still don't manage to have three proper meals, and I'm certainly not getting my 5 fruit or veg a day.

I still leave it slightly too long between washing my hair too often.

I don't jump out of bed like the child in me thinks adults do to ensure everything is done before I have to leave the house – the reality is that I drag myself out of bed with just enough time to pick up most of the things I need for the day and get out of the door to work.

I don't pray as often as my spiritual director would like me to.

My work-life balance never seems to be, well, balanced.

My teddy bear still sleeps in my bed with me and my husband.

My house is and always has been messy.

I'm hoping it isn't just me...

I read an article that really annoyed me the other day.

It's about parents dropping their children off at school in their pjs – I'm going to leave judgement on that as I often went to lectures or the library at University with a hoody and jeans thrown over my pjs, I wasn't an adult then though so I think that is expected.

The line that annoyed me most was “But perhaps most importantly of all, [getting dressed] creates the reassuring illusion that grownups are vaguely in control of life rather than constantly defeated by it.”

Why?

Are we in control of life and if we aren't why do we have to keep up an illusion for children or for each other that we are?

I know I could keep my house tidy if I really wanted to. I'm sure that is because I'm lazy rather than just rubbish at being an adult – but child me was sure all adults liked tidying! I guess it all comes down to priorities, for example my washing pile is generally kept at a manageable size and husband always seems to have clothes to wear for work, whereas I have so many clothes I'd have to be in a really bad state for me to run out.

Often as children the things they look forward to is, having the money to buy all the sweets they want and being able to choose their own bedtime. The former is all good, but the latter I'm not sure I'm responsible enough for that.

I remember a few years ago been given some advice in my preaching which was to "be real" so that is what I'm doing.

I'm hoping I'm not on my own. 

This isn't really a confession but more of a declaration.

I'm an adult but I haven't mastered everything yet. 

I've not got everything as together as I thought I would have. 

But that's ok!

Learning to be Married

Just a warning before you spend a couple of minutes of your life reading this - I'm not sure this blog has a point! Really all I'm doing is keeping track of some of the changes that have happened since getting married.

But first I need to start where I last stopped – with my lent blogs that I didn't get round to writing...

My theme for lent – which I very obviously didn't manage to blog about – was companionship. I spent time with colleagues and friends at our conference, I moved in with a family for a few nights – re-earning my name “night time Rachel.” Someone joined my knitta natta group, making a spectacular two regular members, went to MWiB forum and the last ever World Mission Forum and finally I got married!

So now I'm learning to be married. A friend of mine, just before he was about to celebrate his first wedding anniversary told me that the wedding plans is good preparation for marriage – learning to combine the two families and work together as a team. He was right.

Firstly, as the answer to the question I've been asked the most (“How's married life?”) Married life is so far so good!

There are many things I'm learning and that are changing. We are much more different than I ever knew. There's a whole blog in introversion / extroversion if/when I get round to writing it.

One of the things I've noticed is that we ball socks differently!

I didn't even realise there was more than one way to ball socks!

I ball socks completely, whereas Husband just balls them slightly and leaves a tail.

Matching up odd socks is my job – along with the sorting, washing and putting away of clothes. I now ball socks in both methods, mine my way and his his way.

Part of it is for practical reasons – my socks are colourful and are easier to tell apart from the ball, Husband's are mainly black with coloured heels and his method means you can see which pair of socks they are still. So I've changed the way I ball socks – but only his. It's also about ensuring I'm not taking over, even if just a small way.

Has marriage changed me? Yes.

There are other things that have changed. My name is the most obvious thing. Though just to confuse most people I decided to be a Ms rather than a Mrs. It hasn't worked on somethings, for example I went to the Doctors to change my name, they photocopied my marriage certificate and never asked me about my title or actually my surname.

When talking to people about this I've had some very interesting responses.

One person did link feminists to terrorists... as they both push their views on other people, I'm not sure they really meant to compare me to a terrorist, but that is what happened!

“I'm a Miss and proud!” Good for you!

“Isn't that just for divorced people” No – and I'm glad I can help educate you in this.

“Oh why are you doing that?”

Well it's about a choice. In the same way I chose to have the same surname as my husband and that that was to be the one he was born with. I've also chosen that my marital status shouldn't be important when all you know about me is my name. It's not that I am not proud to be married. Part of it is being inspired by my A level Psychology teacher, who was the first Ms I met.

Also – while I'm on names what's with everyone saying “Hello Mrs New-Surname” It means I have to remember their surnames to reply “Hello Mr/Mrs/Rev ...” and makes conversations much more formal.

I like being married, I like being Ms New-Surname and most of all I love not being in a long distance relationship anymore.

Things have changed, and I've changed, and most of all I now ball socks differently!

PS – I've also started offering to go on walks, even when there isn't ice cream – it's strange this marriage-lark.

Back in the blog seat for lent

Hey loyal readers!

IThere are two main reasons I've not blogged in a while.
My life seems to revolve around two main things.
Work and Wedding.
Firstly it probably wouldn't be very professional of me to share the stories of my job, the families I work with don't deserve that, neither does the church. I'm not saying that in many years time my "call the Midwife" style memoirs won't be interesting but its not something I can generally blog about day to day.
The wedding again has two reasons for why I haven't been bloging about it. You as the reader will fit into one of two categories. Either you are invited to the wedding so I don't want to ruin the specialness of the day by boring you with all the details - like how many kg of fish gravel I currently own, or the palaver of trying to get hold of enough glasses. Both of which are funny stories, so there may be a "50 things I've learnt in planning a wedding" blog after the event. The second group of you are not invited - and you will know by now if you are in that group (sorry!) I don't want to bore you with an event you can't come to. You may think that you won't get bored, but I can talk non stop about my wedding - just ask my fiancé!

Getting out of the blog seat regularly means that I haven't done my usual round up of the year, so in a sentence or two...
2014 was a year of settling and preparing. Obviously with the momentous engagement in the middle.
I was in my house, getting established at work, knitted lots, painted a room or two and went to Rome - and got to give out the bread in communion which was very special.

I'm bloging today to announce my very exciting lent blog series - which currently has three rough blogs in my head. The series will be exploring what lent means to me this year. I'm not committing to blog every week, and I'm not using the MWiB lent reflections like last year - the 2015 ones can be found here if you want to have a go.
But I am going to share small amounts as I prepare for Easter as a married women.

So bring on lent!

Us and Them

You never think it will happen to us, it's something that happens to others.
How often do people in the news say that statement?

I've been to two different mental health training sessions in the past week, the first one was trying to normalise mental health, giving the scary statistics that 50% of people the NHS is working with have a mental health issue. The one in four of us will have a mental health issue.

We hear it about physical health too – 1 in 3 people will get cancer in their lifetime.

The second lot of training – today – talked about us and them. This training was focused on self-harm, and the speaker talked about how “we” as “normal” people dealt with distress instead of “them” the people who react badly, which leads to self harm.

How does he know that in that room of 8 people who work with young people that we aren't or weren't self-harmers.

It's made me ponder two things:

1, we assume that everyone is like us.

2, we assume that noone is like us.

In the ways we are “normal” we assume that everyone else is like us. It's why LGBT people have to come out, but straight people don't. I met for the first time one of my fiancé's colleagues recently, and before I met her I asked him what she looked like. The picture in my head was totally different – I realised it was based on someone else I know who does a similar job to her – but also similarities to myself.

In the ways we are the “them” we assume we are totally on our own – not helped by the way that so many things are still taboo; mental health, abuse, some physical illnesses. We don't talk about things, we assume we are the only one. Sometimes though when you open up, let down your walls you find out you have more in common with others than you think.

I've always said “Everyone is a little bit broken.”