Captured

 

Hello everyone. I hope that you are well. I am well on the way to recovery from Messy Church yesterday.  It was heaving, which was good. There were lots of new families - also good and we polished off the story of Joseph with songs from the show - all of which I remember. Just to clarify, I most certainly was not at the front belting out "Go, Go, Joseph" at any stage in the proceedings. I am very much a "standing at the back by the sound desk" kind of person. I am full of admiration for those who faithfully recreate an entire flight into Egypt with only a Louvre door, twenty children dressed as shepherds and a cup with plastic jewels - many of which remained attached all the way through the performance. This week, my table was making little boxes with a raffia loop and a chocolate coin hidden inside. (Only one coin - have you seen how much chocolate costs at the moment?) Actually, I am not 100% sure what I made. Whatever, it was - it was apparently too boring for one child to make and he told me so. Still, his mother had a quiet fifteen minutes threading the raffia loop herself and told me she would put it on her own tree before she scooped up her little one who was not happy. I think I forget how exhausting being a mother is. 

Actually, I haven't really forgotten how exhausting parenthood is, because it doesn't ever stop does it? The worrying that is. When they are little you worry about things like "Can I keep them alive?" "Should I let them eat that?" "Do I need to phone Casualty about that?" Actually, the only time I phoned Casualty about my children was when I was stacking a kitchen cupboard with a food shop. The cupboard was quite full and as I strained to get the last tin in, some terrible law of physics decreed that as this went in - a jar of baby food should pop out. This landed on Baby FOW2's head - she was in one of those bouncy chairs at my feet. It actually made a "bonk" sound. There was a split second of silence followed by the most almighty cry. I was convinced I had split her skull. When I phoned the helpline explaining what I had done, there was a lot of sniggering - not helping my nervous breakdown - and when we did see a casualty doctor, he seemed to think it hilarious as well. I suppose they see a lot of worse things that the rest of us would rather not think about. The same kind of thing happened with FOW1. As a toddler, his favourite thing was a bottle of juice. He was only allowed this if he was sitting down - mainly because Aged Parent had schooled me to think that walking around drinking from a baby bottle was common (same as eating a pasty out of a paper bag in your trolly - I missed out on so many experiences as a child.) However, one day FOW1 decided that he would like to move and drink at the time. Within a nanosecond, he had fallen and the blood was everywhere - EVERYWHERE. Aged Parent arrived at virtually the same time, had a quick look in his mouth and said "He'll be fine, but you need to wash your shirt or you will never get the blood out." Sometimes, all it needs in these situations, is someone to be reasonably calm. That person is not usually me.

Now they are grown-ups with lives of their own and, all that has happened to the worry is that it has moved focus. Are they happy? Are they solvent? Are they home safe from the pictures? Is that chopped-up body they found in a suitcase in Bristol likely to be FOW1? Even though he has just sent me a photo of himself at the football? My tendency to catastrophize is just aimed at different-sized people now. 

And it's not just my kids. Obviously, there is plenty to worry about at the moment, on a local, national and international scale but I feel it helps no one (especially me) for it to get under my skin and for me to suffer the worry-based symptoms this brings. Last week, a customer started kicking off in our foyer, calling me rude - mainly I think because I had told her Mum that she was two years out of date on her membership. My immediate thought when I heard her kicking off was "Oh no. This will escalate. I'll have to do a report. She'll write to the papers. I will be on the news. They'll close the charity." As it turned out - my lovely staff showed up like ants coming out of an anthill. They defended me to the hilt, with one very cleverly saying "I don't know what you think you heard but it wasn't rudeness". (Which it wasn't) and all was dealt with. Unnecessary and quite embarrassing level of worry there. 

I expect you are familiar with the work of Jo Hargreaves - The Faith Filled Therapist.  She is a psychotherapist and a pastor. There's a lot of her work on Instagram which I have found very helpful. From a purely psychological standpoint, she says that unhelpful thoughts have impacts. They can trigger Fight and Flight responses among other things which can lead to physical problems around stress etc. She is also strong on not giving in to thoughts which is obviously Biblical. Aged Parent's friend used to say to her "Cheer up.It might never happen". Well, it might not or it might. This is a tough old world which isn't really set up right. We see a lot of stuff. We are dealing with things that come out of a world view that is corrupt and it is easy to be frightened about consequences. Our thought lives have to be renewed and these thoughts need to be captured and the first step is to get hold of how loved we are. 

There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life—fear of death, fear of judgment—is one not yet fully formed in love.

1 John 4

Have a good week