Monday, 2 April 2018

See What I See


My lent reflection ‘The Hearts Time’ is a poem as day throughout lent. One of the poems that really struck me was ‘sheep fair day’ by Kerry Hardie. In the poem she explores the following quote…

 ‘The real aim is not to see God in all things, it is that God, through us, should see all the things that we see’ Simone Weil

 
She uses it as the base for her descriptive poem inviting God to see her day as she sees it – to experience it with her. The reflection from the poem encouraged trying to do the same with an account of a typical day in your own life so here it is….
  


Good Morning, come join me as I creak myself out of bed, sleepy eyed husband on my left putting off beginning the day. Between us once again is the baby who was lonely in the night. Now she sleeps in the warm bliss of a forbidden bed, arms raised senital above her head, resolutely slumbering now that we have to rise.
From next door float the conversational tones of the toddler as she poses a serious question to her rabbit. soon the pleasant chat becomes interspersed with complaints as she shouts for release and for milk.

Sit with me and share the first cup of many cups of tea on this normal day. One hand attempts to spoon food to the baby while the other pulls out clothes for the toddler, one job at a time is a luxury I can't afford these days. I wonder.. could you just take her to the toilet? she's desperate and the baby needs her milk thanks so much and do remind her to wash her hands say thank you now love no please don't grab if you want it ask politely no more TV this morning you've really had enough.

Come and walk with us through the park, we'll wave at other early morning people, I like these quiet moments, watching those that are heading to work with their important clothes and serious bags.

At the group we will intermingle with the other tired parents smiling sleepily and raising conspiratorial eyebrows over bumps, potties and toddler squabbles, half-finished conversations and luke warm tea. If parenthood is the battlefield then this is the sergeants mess. A chance to come up for air and debrief.  
You are welcome here, you won't be judged. within three minutes I will be sharing my most intimate labour story with a woman whose first name I have forgotten. I can feel the way you lean in, take another biscuit and listen with careful loving intent; You care deeply for these moments don’t you? You know the power of simple story telling especially when the memories being shared are the ones that can change a woman; make and unmake her all at the same time, the ones we repeat over and over again through the years...

Because these are the stories that matter.

Come home again and grab a bite to eat. (don't mind the crying she’s just tired) Watch the baby smack her lips and wave her arms for more, laugh out loud as the toddler applies hummus liberally to her face and grins.

Once they are full and laid gently to sleep in their cots we can get cracking on the daily workout. This is a bit embarrassing but it's you so I don't mind. Let's do star jumps, lunges and sit-ups. 

I am learning to love my body better all the time, for its faithfulness and it's strength the way it grows and pushes out babies. the odd grey hair and a stretched out tummy button. Exercise helps. Time to jump high and push myself just because I can. You made the human body, pulled it out of dust and creative energy, we are created in your image, I see that clearly as we laugh and sweat. I get us some water and you revel in the cool clear taste just like you did once by a dusty well with a Samaritan woman.

In the afternoon we take the toddler to the park and it pours with rain. She doesn't care, she is delirious with happiness over a whippet dog chasing a red ball. We link arms in silence and watch her as she digs in the mud, stirring with a stick. I feel your steady affection for her, steadier than mine which ebbs and flows sometimes. 

You came up with the idea of this girl. You knew everything about her before she came into being. You knew that one day she would be this person, covered in mud and alive with wonder at the newly sodden world. you know everything about this child and love her so deeply. I just grew her. But you let me and for that I am so grateful.

You lend the tired girl your shoulders on the way home and end up with a muddy face from where her grubby little hand stroked your cheek, I hope she always leans on you like she's doing now, that she knows she can come to you no matter how dirty her hands become.
 Lets share a meal together and talk with the love of my life. you ask him how he is, I can see you reading between the bare lines of his day, you know him so well, know the words to reassure him over the niggly bits. Once again I am so grateful that you are at the heart of this marriage, this family.

We'll hustle the kids through the bath, she will want one last story with her milk and she likes to turn the light off herself. Sit with me as I cradle the baby (hopefully!) for the last time until morning. Drink in her pink cheeks and long eyelashes. the way she feeds so beautifully with her chubby cheeks drawing in and out. 

Breastfeeding still feels like such a gift to me and I don't take it lightly. Thank you. It's dark and quiet in here, you might feel your eyelids grow heavy and not want to get up again when she’s finally laid down to sleep.

Downstairs we'll probably watch some TV. I hope you don't mind Masterchef we're a little bit addicted right now. We go early to bed as sleep is a commodity we can't always count on. stay for a bit longer and listen to a chapter of the book he's reading out to me. Its excellent, and then watch as the lights go off and we drift off with the occasional murmur to each other as we remember things, and then the sweetness of sleep.





    



                     

So there you have it – a day in my life where I invited god to come along for the ride. I actually found it a really significant thing to imagine and explore. In the end I think its really helped me to see where God fits in throughout my days with the girls.
 I would encourage you to try your own version!

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