Happy ending?

I've been pondering something for a while (that's usually a bad sign tbh...) It's something quite subtle, which you almost might not notice. The problem is, I have noticed, and now I can't stop. Writing this blog runs the risk of you, who may never have noticed before, now also noticing. I'm sorry. Read on at your own risk...!

Here it is. I've noticed a tendency in certain Christian testimonies, for the 'and then they lived happily ever after' part to include "and now they're married with 18 beautiful children" or similar.

Here's an example that I read today, in a magazine I really enjoy, which prompted me to finally write something (even though I've been thinking about doing so for ages). I'm not having a go here at the magazine, or the author, and it was a good article. It just happened to provide an example of this thing.

So in the article there's a story about a guy named Pedro (I would change his name, but the chances are they already changed it when they did the article, so there's no need to make things even more complicated!) Pedro was homeless and an alcoholic, until he found love and care and support and a Christian community which helped him to heal (that bits all great by the way, obvs!).

Here's the thing though. This is how the 'after' part of Pedro's story is described: "Pedro... found a community to support his journey towards sobriety and ultimately a faith of his own. Now, eight years sober, he helps at AA sessions, has married, and regularly cooks for his church's Alpha course."

It happens so often. Not long ago at a women's event I heard something similar: "Lucy (I am making that name up, I can't for the life of me remember what they called her!) has had her life turned around. She was in trouble because of X, Y and Z and her life was awful. And then she met Person A from Charity B and they helped her to sort her life out. Now she's doing this, this and this amazing thing, and she's married with a baby."

I've read it in books, and on social media. I've heard it in talks. OK, maybe I notice this stuff more than someone married would do, but nonetheless it is still actually happening!

Now, don't misunderstand me, I'm not just being a grump (I really hope I'm not anyway!) Obviously, if this person has happened to get married in this period of their life when things are going well, then that's part of their story, and of course it's right for them to tell that if they want to.

The issue for me is when we see the 'marriage and kids' thing as part of the happy ending. This person's life is better now BECAUSE they are married, BECAUSE they have children.

I'm all for celebrating the good stuff. I love to hear testimonies of God at work in people's lives, how their circumstances and their situation have been totally transformed. It's brilliant. But I think there's something about what 'we' (society? church?) see as typical traits of the 'before' and 'after' parts of the story.

BEFORE (BAD STUFF): homelessness, drugs, alcohol, addiction, crime...
AFTER (GOOD STUFF): marriage, kids (and what? 3 bedroom semi? volvo?)

I'm being facetious, of course, but actually the only thing that's got any business being in the AFTER column is: AND NOW THEY KNOW JESUS. (Yes, I know, no longer being addicted to stuff and having a roof over your head are pretty good too, but you get my point).

If I'm being hyper-sensitive about this, no doubt you'll all tell me. If I've made you aware of something that's now going to annoy you when it didn't before, I'm sorry. But if this is a Thing, and if you're single or don't have kids or whatever, and you've noticed it as a Thing too, let me know.

I guess what I'm saying is it feels weird when my life (which I'm happy with, and really quite like, at least the vast majority of the time) is seen as not good enough to feature in the AFTER column. Like when my life is some sort of pre-Good-Morning-makeover-style-reveal.

We must be careful about saying, or thinking, or even implying, that marriage and kids should be part of the 'happy ending' story (although they're great and brilliant when they happen well) - because if they're part of the 'happy ending' story, then where does that leave those of us who don't have them, and possibly never will?

My life is full of Jesus and friends and laughter and kids and chocolate and all sorts of good things. But it doesn't and never will involve marriage, or children of my own. And I'm ok with my own version of the happy ending.

Here's a picture of a sunset, just because they're one of my favourite things, and a pretty good 'ending' for each day, I'd say.

Just being there

Well once again I'm afraid it's been ages since I wrote a blog! Here though, at last, is the 5th post in my series looking at the Five Love Languages - http://www.5lovelanguages.com/ This time I'll be thinking about 'Quality Time'. I've already looked at the other 4 - Words of Affirmation, Acts of Service, Receiving Gifts and Physical Touch. You can find them all if you scroll back through the last few months' posts.

So what is Quality Time all about? Well it's about really being 'with' some - genuinely present, in the moment, giving them your undivided attention. It might involve doing something that they want to do although you'd rather not, or it might simply be 'doing nothing' together - that companionable silence and shared space which can be really lovely when we're comfortable with the other person.

I guess Quality Time is important to many of us in some way - none of us wants to feel like we don't matter, or that someone is looking over our shoulder to see how fast they can get away, or looking at their watch thinking about where they need to be next. Whether it's an appointment with our GP, a chat with a friend over coffee, or a meeting with our boss over an issue at work, we want to feel that the other person has got time for us, that they are genuinely present in the conversation and that they've got time for us. If we don't feel like that, but instead feel that they can't wait to get away, we'll be far less likely to say the thing that we've actually come to say, or to be honest and open.

With friendships too, this is really important. Quality Time doesn't have to be long, and it doesn't have to be all the time. It might consist of seeing someone for a day a year. It might be an hour a week. But in that time, however long and however regular, the person's time will be given completely to the other, as an act of generosity.

So Quality Time is important for many of us, but how does it specifically affect single people? It's probably more of(although not exclusively) an issue for those who don't have children and who live alone, because there just isn't someone 'there' to spend time with.

Sean Doherty, in Part 1 of his brilliant series 'The Only Way is Ethics' (Authentic, 2015) makes a brilliant point:
"Once when preaching I talked about needing deep friendships. But someone pointed out to me afterwards that depth is not enough. She had deep friendships. What she missed was someone to share shallow things with. Maybe 80 per cent of marriage is the 'shallow' stuff: emptying the dishwasher, sharing how your day went, watching a movie, knowing someone will miss you when you're away. Intimacy is built on small things."

Yes! This is so true. Sometimes as single people we find ourselves invited for 'special events' but still excluded from the mundane and day to day stuff of life. That's not meant to sound like a complaint! But it's lovely also to be invited to just hang out with people, to watch TV, to have a 'normal' tea (not just a fancy dinner party), to go for a walk, to mooch round the shops... Living alone I find I really do miss doing that 'normal' stuff with other people.

Although Quality Time is about being present it doesn't have to be intense, I don't think. Today I popped round to my friend's house to pick up some things I'm borrowing for a school assembly. I then spent an hour hanging out in her kitchen over a cuppa. During that hour she made tea for the kids, who came and went - they laughed, cuddled, argued, cried, fell out and showed me their homework. She and I had a conversation interrupted by spelling practice, sibling arguments and post-football-reports. But it was still Quality Time because I know they love me, and I'm allowed to be part of their family, and my friend wanted to hear about the important conversation I'd had earlier.

Quality Time takes a bit of effort. Sometimes we end up seeing time with friends as one more thing on our to-do list, and after a half hour chat and cuppa we can cross it off and crack on with the next job. But Quality Time is about being generous with ourselves and our time, being there for one another. It's definitely an investment worth making!

Some thoughts about mothering... and daffodils...

Hmm. Even as I begin this post it's with some trepidation. Is it a good idea to explore the area of mothering, two days after Mothering Sunday (which is of course what has prompted these reflections?) Will I offend or upset someone? Will I get myself in a tizz? Well, I hope not, but there are so many thoughts flying around my head that I really need to just get them out there!

Before the serious stuff begins though, I have to confess that the reason I've used the word 'mothering' in the title and in the first paragraph is because I'm still not 100% sure where the apostrophe is meant to go in 'Mothers Day'. The pedant in me (which is really just all of me) wants to put it after the 's' of course - surely it's a day for all mothers, not just one? But many websites inform me that it should be before the 's' as the idea is that, for each individual, it really is a day just for their own mother. But is that just in America? I have no idea. I shall stick with Mothering Sunday!

And before I really let rip with my musings, a caveat is required. I've blogged before (http://katewharton.blogspot.co.uk/2014/01/probably-my-least-favourite-phrase-in.html) about how I can't stand the phrase "I know exactly how you feel" and yet there's a risk in what I'm writing today that some people will think I'm saying just that. I assure you that I'm not. I'm simply sharing how this issue feels for me, at this moment. I'm about to turn 36, I'm single, and likely to stay that way, and I don't have kids. I'm going to say a bit about how that feels for me. I obviously have no idea how it feels for any other single person.

I also very clearly have no idea how this issue feels for people who are married but for whatever reason can't or don't have children. I have some good friends in that position and I weep for some of the terrible things that 'well meaning' people have said to them. I have no idea what it must feel like to be them.

So, all scenes set and all caveats laid out, here goes...

When I was a little girl, I was quite certain that when I grew up I would get married and have children. It was just obvious - why wouldn't I? I had no concept that for some people this just wasn't the way life worked out. I was an only child and I'd always longed for a sister - I pestered my poor parents to death about it! I was very clear that I wanted to have 3 daughters, and at any given point I could have told you what their names would be (though they often changed!).

Anyway, time passed, and I didn't get married, and I didn't have children. And now I'm nearly 36. Which, while not yet 'too late', is nevertheless close enough to focus the mind somewhat. And anyway over the last few years a lot of things have changed for me in terms of how I think about my own singleness, and some of the choices I've made for the future (you can read more about that in Chapter 7 of Single Minded). Suffice it to say though, that in as much as I can be sure of anything, I don't think I will get married, and I don't think I will have children.

When I tell people that (actually it's generally when I tell other single people) they say something along the lines of "oh aren't you lucky that God has taken away your desire to get married and have children". Now I have to tell you that he hasn't done anything of the sort! For all sorts of reasons, that I won't go into in this post, I think that's where I currently am. But it doesn't mean that I don't sometimes wish things might have been different, and wonder what my life might have been like if it had worked out the way I expected it to when I was a little girl.

I love children - I mean I really am completely daft about them. I love cooing over tiny babies, and munching and scrunching their chubby little cheeks. I love playing silly games and doing silly dances with toddlers. I love the wonderful conversations you can have with little kids - one minute totally serious, the next fabulously daft, the next utterly surreal. I love the way kids look at the world, full of wonder and joy and exuberance. I love how much things matter to them. I love how independent and feisty and funny and playful and boisterous they can be. Not everyone does love kids. Even some people who have kids only love their own, not other people's!

I'm good with kids, too, really good. I get them, I can talk to them, I can play with them, and they like me. Not everyone's good with kids, and certainly not all vicars - that much was obvious at college! I love toddler groups and school assemblies and kids' church. I love messy crafts and sing songs and story time.

I love my friends' kids. I have 3 Godchildren and being part of their lives (and their siblings') is one of the greatest joys and privileges of my life. I love watching them grow up. I love spending time with them. I love putting them to bed and reading stories and playing games and doing the school pick up and wiping away tears and changing nappies and having hugs. I love being given hand made cards and pictures and letters.

I also love spending time with other friends' kids who are older, and who (hopefully!) see me as a friendly-and-wise-but-non-parental adult they can talk to.

Sometimes, spending so much time around kids, and knowing I won't have my own, really, really hurts. And it's getting harder. (It's probably hormones - goodness knows what will happen when I turn 40!). Sometimes it seems as though it actually, physically hurts. I can be reduced to tears by something cute a child says, or by a hug. "I love you Aunty Kate" gets me every time, obviously! The other day I burst into tears in the supermarket watching a wide eyed little boy choose a toy with his pocket money. It was the sense of excitement mixed with concentration, the choice of that toy being the most important thing in the world to him at that moment...

So I'm an emotional wreck sometimes (if you know me well you're now saying "tell us something we don't know"!), but there are good moments too. What joy I have knowing so many amazing small people, and being part of their lives. What a privilege to know that I will always be a part of their lives. (I don't have siblings, so no nieces and nephews - so I tell my Godchildren they'll have to care for me in my dotage as well as their parents!).

Don't worry though, I'm not always an emotional wreck - sometimes it's just lots of fun, and then I go home and leave their parents to do the messy, boring stuff. I'm not stupid!!

It might be less painful if I engaged less with kids. Maybe that's what some people choose to do. If I didn't babysit, or join family teatimes and bathtimes, or help with the toddler group. Maybe then I'd be reminded less often of what I don't have. But I don't want to do that, because then I'd miss out on so much. I think maybe the kids would miss out too.

Mothering Sunday can be a tough day for lots of people for lots of reasons, I know that. I'm well aware that what I'm describing here is only one of those reasons. In my church we don't give out daffodils to mums on Mothering Sunday. Instead we do 'something' else - maybe we give everyone chocolates, or we all make something, or there are flowers, but they're for everyone to take if they want them. We try to affirm mums but to be sensitive to anyone who's finding it tough. I know lots of places do the daffodil thing really well but I've never quite got over one year (in a different church) when all the kids had given daffodils to their mums, and sat back down. One mum looked over at me, poked her daughter, and said in a stage whisper "get some for Kate, she hasn't got anyone to give her any." I could have wept, though of course I accepted them with thanks.

Maybe you think I was being unreasonable or over sensitive. Actually I don't mind at all if all the mums get given daffodils, or if all the women get daffodils. And I do love getting flowers! But I don't want pity daffodils, "oh dear she's all sad and alone we'd better give her some" daffodils. I'm sure lots of people feel differently, but there we are.

So that's what I've been reflecting on this Mothering Sunday. I'm so, so glad I get to 'mother' in a small way, as a Godmother. I pray for myself, that I'll stay soft-hearted around kids (even if it means I cry a lot!). I pray for others for whom this is tough. I thank God for the joy of small people. I thank Jesus that he understands. I might go and buy myself some daffodils...

Here's a picture one of my lovely Goddaughters drew of me. What's not to love?!

Beauty and graffiti

A few months ago we decided to establish a little 'community garden' across the road from church, on a patch of wasteland. It was mainly the idea of Rach, a fab member of our church, who heads up our work with young people. She approached the council, who own the land, and they agreed to let us use it, and even helped us out with resources, funding and workers. We worked with them, one of the local RSLs, and a nearby youth centre. A fabulous artist came and did sessions with the kids and young people producing 3 huge murals featuring all their favourite Liverpool landmarks. They were bolted to the wall, and a big flowerbed was sunk into the ground. The nursery class from our church school came over to do the planting. We had a launch event with local community groups and it was lots of fun. Seeing the garden every day makes me smile. It looks lovely, a ray of sunshine in the middle of a patch of derelict and deserted ground.

Or at least, it did look lovely - for a while. Because after only a few months, I went past one day to discover graffiti sprayed all over the murals. There were huge letters drawn in thick black paint. I couldn't see how it could be repaired, but Nicola, the amazing artist, came and worked her magic and it looked as good as new. Phew!

Until last week - when I drove past and suddenly realised I couldn't see the boards. When investigated I found that all 3 of them had been ripped off the wall. 2 were damaged 'just' from being ripped off - they had holes where the bolts had been (the bolts were still attached to the wall). The third was more badly damaged - it had 2 big tears across it, and large pieces knocked off at the corners. I gathered up all the small pieces although I doubt they'll be able to be repaired. The boards were too heavy to move, even when I gathered a couple of helpers, so we left them there and hoped for the best. We're currently waiting for someone to come and put them back up.

I've been thinking about this a lot over the past few days. I was absolutely devastated when I first saw what had happened. The boards looked such a mess, and as if that wasn't bad enough, they had also trampled all over the plants in the flowerbed. I can't understand why anyone would want to cause such damage and destruction in such a wanton way. I'm not naive, I know vandalism happens - a lot! - and I've experienced it many times when my car, house and church have all been damaged in various ways. For some reason, though, this seemed even more wantonly destructive than normal. Maybe it was the fact that all we'd been trying to do was make the local area look a bit nicer. Maybe it was the fact that it had been local kids who had done the painting themselves. It just made me so sad.

I started to wonder, if we found out who it was who had done the damage, and if we asked them why, and if we were able to genuinely have a conversation about it - about what was in their minds as they did it, and what they hoped to achieve - what would we discover? Would it be that they were "just bored"? Understandable in one way, I guess, in an area with few resources - and something we're trying to remedy by creating activities they can engage with. Or would we, I wondered, find out something more, something deeper, if it was even possible for it to be articulated?

You see, I wonder whether there's something about us not being able to cope with beauty, somehow. I wonder if in some way that's what sin is - turning away from God, and from his goodness, and from his right, perfect, beautiful way to live, because we simply can't handle it. There's something about us longing for beauty and truth and goodness, and yet suddenly turning around and randomly destroying a beautiful thing for no apparent reason. I feel like that's sometimes how I live and behave. I destroy beautiful things. I damage what is good. I vandalise what is holy.

God's way, and God's will, is about good not evil; about light not dark; about hope not fear; about beauty not ugliness. Paul puts it this way in his letter to the church in Philippi - "you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious - the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse."

I want to be someone who seeks out beauty in God's world, and who speaks and acts in a way which creates beauty, rather than destroying and damaging it. 

When I started out writing this post it was going to be about how it's hard to keep on going when obstacles come along, but it's turned into something completely different! Maybe I'll write that post another day...

This is how our lovely garden looked when it was first created. Recently the flowers looked gorgeous!