Sunday with a difference.

Have just spent the best part of an hour trying to pimp-up (think that's the right phrase...heaven help me if it's not!!!!) my blog. Bearing in mind that I have no idea how many, if any, people read these ramblings of an increasingly demented and scatty vicar's wife it is hard to know if it is time well spent to be honest.

But today is somewhat different. It is Sunday and not a single Rectory dweller has been to church. Shock, horror. I can hear my staunch protestant paternal grandmother turning in her grave, her false teeth chattering in disgust!

The reason for this is that life at Rectory Towers is not all it could be. My lovely son has had an encounter with swine flu. He was very unwell and now his father, i.e. The Vicar that lives here, has also encountered this beast of an illness. Basically we are all in quarantine. No church, no Sunday club, no nothing.

So, what have we done instead? Well, the Vicar has slept. The lovely son has lounged on the sofa still a bit washed out. The girls, all 3, went out for a run before the rain starts and the Vicar's wife read a paper, pimped up her blog and did some spontaneous housework.

I am in a dilemma though. It was lovely waking up without an alarm. It was lovely having some time to do ....nothing.

However, it just doesn't feel right. I know it's easy to say that as I have been to church virtually every Sunday of my life it's bound not to feel right. But I honestly believe that it goes deeper than that. Meeting with other Christians on Sunday is about much more than just being all together in one place. It's about the body of Christ meeting together with Him, about the togetherness of joining in worship and gathering around the communion table; a bunch of broken, fallen people, in need of each other's encouragement to carry on living in the grace that God so freely bestows on us.

So while it all feels like a bit of a luxury lying in bed and seems like a treat to read the paper I think I'd rather do it on a Saturday. Or better still a Monday!!

Please pray for the Vicar who lives here. Not seen him so rough for years. And just to say there will be some churchy work today. I'm off to sing Christmas carols with 60 Beavers. Random.

With love,

Rachel.

More haste less speed.

Hi everyone,

It's confession time.I have been done for speeding...again. It was a total surprise to me. I am shocked. No way could it possibly have been my fault. I mean , I know I was driving and it was my foot on the gas pedal but honestly m'lud it was an honest mistake by a woman minding her own business and carrying on the usual day to day tasks that life throws at me.

It did get me thinking though, about other misdemeanour's that I have inadvertently committed in my life. Like the time I managed to throw away 6 library books in the recycling box.This may seem a small and insignificant thing but somehow I felt like a criminal of the worst kind... losing one's library books somehow making me feel like a murderer.I ended up having to pay £20 to make amends.

Or the time I sent my sweet children to school with maggots (live) in their lunch boxes. This is true and also humiliating.I bought some cereal bars that no-one liked so I threw them to the back of the cupboard, as you do, in the hopes that one day somebody might eat them at some point. Somehow they ended up in lunch boxes. The girls came home with the bars in a carrier bag with a huge note pinned to it, saying, "Live maggots. Out of date 6 months ago." I was truly mortified.Not one of my greatest mothering moments.

Or what about the time when I was given a cheque for a substantial amount of money from someone and I managed to tear it up and had to grovellingly ask for another one.

Or how about the time when I managed to pick up 2 of my children and leave one behind.

It does seem to me that all these occasions occur when I am rushing, and I always seem to be rushing, as proved by a speeding ticket. It's always easy to think that I can just do one more thing than time allows,to cram more in than is really possible. And when I do that I make mistakes. I drive too fast, I throw things away by accident, things get put into lunch boxes that shouldn't, or torn up or missed.

I don't suppose I'm the only one who does these things. But there must be a lesson in it that goes even beyond "More haste, less speed." The pace of life is just too fast and slowing down and living in the moment must be the way to go. How we do that is another matter entirely and is easier said than done.

In the meantime I'd better find a way of slowing down in the car...hmmm.

Love,

Rachel.

Birthday thoughts.

I have had a birthday. Interestingly it has come exactly a year after my last one and yet somehow I don't feel any older than I did at the last one!

It was a great day. The kids all snuggled up in bed with me and gave me presents and hugs and the Vicar that lives here made sure that it was a festival more than a birthday and he really spoiled me.

I suppose birthdays can really be a time for reflection on what has happened during the last 12 months. Have I achieved anything, am I a better person than I was, have the goals I set for myself been realised, did I even set any goals?

I do find as I get older that my goals are fewer, more easily summed up and are really based on my every day walk with Jesus.My over riding goal, or perhaps desire is a better word, is to reach the place where I can honestly say that Jesus is enough for me, that if I had nothing else he would be sufficient, that to know him completely is my completeness.

I have the most incredible blessings in my life. Amazing children, a faithful and loving husband and wonderful friendships. I live constantly with God's blessings all around me and I am so thankful. But more than his blessing I long to know him better, to hear his voice;to know the Blesser not just the blessings.

With love,

Rachel.

Stirring up a hornet's nest.....

Question:How many house group members does it take to tackle a hornet?????

Answer:Many, plus much screaming, shaking and telephoning from one side of a door to the other.

There are occasions in life when you see people as they really are, when truth will out as people revert to type. Take our house group. We meet weekly. We have become an incredibly close knit group who laugh together, pray together and study together. We are getting to know each other really well and Tuesday evenings are one of the highlights of my week.

Last time we met we had an incident. As we came to the end of our prayer time a low droning noise was heard. We thought the Luftwaffe were on their way in. Not so. The most enormous queen hornet you have ever seen had decided to check out our sitting room with a view to building a nest.

Now, our group is made up of people who hold responsible positions at work. They are people you can turn to in any kind of crisis....except the crisis of a nest-seeking hornet. The police woman left the room so quickly she left a trail of smoke, a former nurse was rooted to the spot and the vicar's wife took immediate action. I shouted loudly for the Vicar that lives here!!!

We shut the Vicar and the head teacher in the sitting room with a plank of wood and a bicycle lamp...obviously! After an hour...yes, an hour of much activity, during which time my brand new lamp shade came a cropper and several pounds were spent phoning each other for updates because we didn't want to open the door, one of my beautiful little girls came up with a cunning plan.

"Daddy," she said, "Why don't you catch it in my pink fishing net??" The child is a genius! Not thirty seconds later said hornet was gone and peace was restored. We put the kettle on, showered the Vicar that lives here and the headteacher with kisses for their bravery but poured praise and admiration on a small girl with more sense than the rest of us put together.

It came back twice, the old hornet. It obviously really liked our chimney but we felt unable to accommodate it. On it's third visit we made it very clear that it was never to return, and it hasn't. Does anyone know how to get hornet guts of the sitting room carpet? Perhaps I need the wisdom of an 8 year old genius again!!

Much love,

Rachel.

Out of the mouths of babes!

Don't you just love the way kids say things just as they are? No, not always!! For example, "Mummy, why is your tummy so wobbly?" The answer to this is, of course, because I have had 4 babies, 2 of which came at once, and not because I have a deep love of chocolate and a deep hatred of exercise!).

Or what about, "Mum, why are you cleaning? Are some visitors coming? (There is no answer to that one!)  

Or what about , "Mum we told Emily that the present we gave her was one you had for your birthday and didn't like."( The answer to that is a clip round the ear, but I resisted!!)

Yes, children say it as it is and invariably leave you with your heart in your mouth wanting the ground to swallow you up.

We have just come back from Spring Harvest. We had a great week: fabulous worship lead by Graham Kendrick and good bible teaching. The children all had a great time with their various activities and groups. On the way home we were talking about the week and asked them what they most enjoyed. As we waited for some great spiritual revelation from them they announced that the highlight of the week was late night swimming followed by the trips to Burger King for chips and coke! Yes indeed, say it as it is.

Mind you, I have to say that I really enjoyed having some lie-ins, eating chocolate and snoozing on the sofa!! (Hmmm could that possibly be a factor in the wobbly tummy???? NO, NO, NO!!!!)

We are very good at compartmentalizing things that we perceive to be spiritual from the things that don't perceive to be spiritual. Sermons are spiritual so go in the spiritual compartment; swimming goes in the nonspiritual compartment. Why is this?

The Jewish people didn't see it like that. When God commanded them to love him with all their heart, mind and strength he was saying that you cannot compartmentalize. All life, every aspect of life is about relationship with him. He is with us in everything and we with him., sermons, swimming and snoozing. I like that.

And finally, back to the wobbly tummy. They children say it makes me cuddly. Now that is how I like it said!

Much love,

Rachel.

Gimme, gimme, gimme

I saw this recently in a shop. “The Toddlers rules for life.” 1) I have it...it’s mine. 2) I want it...it’s mine. 3) I saw it first...it’s mine. 4) I took it...it’s mine.

There were about 10 of these “it’s mine” statements and they all struck a chord! “Possession is 9/10ths of the law”, or so they say. Sharing is not easy for children and if we’re honest not a lot easier for adults!! Anybody that touches my chocolate...beware!!!!!

A group of us have just come back from Spring Harvest where we have had a fabulous time, worshipping with 7 and a half thousand Christians and journeying together as we discovered more of what it means to be an 

apprentice of Jesus.

Being an apprentice of Jesus means that there is no room for the “It’s mine” approach to faith in Jesus. We cannot hold onto it for ourselves but instead share, through our words and in the way we live our lives that Jesus is for everyone, that a relationship with God through Christ can be a reality for everyone. 

Our relationship with the Father is a personal thing but must not be a private thing. We are called to share; to share Jesus, to share our lives and to share all that we have so that everyone can meet the resurrected Christ and know him.   

Much love,

 Rachel.                          

Uninvited guests.

I believe that being woken fron deep and peaceful slumber is one of the worst things. Having had children who have never been good sleepers I feel qualified to say that broken sleep is a killer. None of our kids have ever really got the hang of sleeping all night and really it is only in the last 3 months or so that everyone finally sleeps all night, on their own and in their own bed. 

I used to play a game with myself. When I woke in the morning I would keep my eyes shut and see if I could remember which bed I was in and who I was with. Brings a whole new meaning to the phrase "sleeping around!!!"

Finally, after what seems like years..well, to be honest it is years, the only person I sleep with is the Vicar that lives here... and he interupts my sleep with his outrageous snoring. AND he has the nerve to say I snore too. HMMMM....

We also have a cat that lives here too. She is lovely. We have just come back from a few days away and she is obviously pleased to see us. So pleased that she broke my deep sleep. So pleased in fact that at 4.30 am she came into our bedroom to bring us the wonderful gift of a dead mouse. She was truely pleased with herself and none too pleased that I wasn't pleased. She looked quite put out as I shooed her away. The Vicar that lives here continued snoring...

In the morning the Vicar had the unenviable task of clearing up the remains of said mouse. Not pleasant. Honestly, kids, cats and snoring Vicars (well, just one vicar) when will sleep be mine???

Love,

Rachel.