He Calls Me...

In January 2010 Team Armstrong decided to move to Bishop's Stortford.  With a six month old baby and a house that wasn't selling we were limited for choices as to where to go.  We were fortunate to have amazing friends who pu t us up (and still  able to call them friends!) for 6 months  while we were trying to find our  own place.  In a town where rental properties are snapped up at the speed of light and rent is extortionately high, we were becoming despondent as to whether it was really God's plan for us to be in this area.  Then, after many disappointing viewings, we came to look at  Thornbera  Road. Late in the day and knowing that there were 10 more people lined up to view the next day I felt a nudge from Holy Spirit saying 'take it now'.  What I could've put down as my impetuous nature or my sheer determination to have a house where the wallpaper wasn't falling off or the garden was big enough to do a cartwheel in, I believe was the start of our amaz...

I  saw this quoted by a friend the other day and, although I love the sentiment behind it, I cannot reconcile the transition between the holding on (I mean really clinging on, clenching so tightly and gasping for breath because if you let go you may break, or dissolve or just fade away) and 'just' being held.  Just to be held.  This requires letting go of what you are carrying.  It requires you to trust in the holder/s.  It means to let go of some control.  The difference between the old me and the temporary me is that I used to be the one doing the holding.  I loved being in community where favours are asked of each other and lives are woven together with interdependence.  I still have to hold on in some respects; as mother, wife, homemaker, employee.  But these past six months have been some of the most difficult I've faced and I've felt unable either to hold on any longer, or to reach out and be held.  The pit of darkness I've been ...

The more I’ve been reflecting on relationships and interaction the more I’ve realised this clichéd phrase actually has a huge amount of truth wrapped up in it.  Language is so important but so too is how it is delivered.  If I’m telling my daughter I’m proud of her for reaching the top of the climbing wall (for another time!) in a tiresome or monotonous tone then what will she hear?  The tone of our voices is so important when we share our feelings because ultimately our feelings will be shared in how we say things and not just what is said.  When I snap ‘thank you’ at my son for eventually doing what he’s been asked a 100 times already then am I showing genuine gratitude or is thanks not really the underlying emotion I want to convey?!   As my patience has been tested the past week with many changes going on around us I’ve been reminded that words themselves are meaningless unless we REALLY mean them.  For some people, those who are more reflective am...

Who knew that Heather Small had asked such an important question! It’s occurred to me recently, as I’ve got to know many different kinds of people that we each have our own expectations and measures of success.  Quite often, as a stay at home parent, these successes seem minor or it feels unnecessary to acknowledge them.  Take the washing for example, how many households have to perform this task on an almost daily basis whilst juggling the commute to work, a 10 hour day and all that comes with it?  But the demands of parenting can be just as numerous and we often don’t give ourselves enough credit for the ‘minor successes’ that we really should acknowledge.  I love to see the joy on my children’s faces kicking through the autumnal leaves, the unprompted manners when we’re out, and the building our own family Christmas traditions.  I have taught myself not just to savour the moment, though that is a big enough lesson in itself, but to allow myself a sense...

What a bizarre phrase that is banded about sometimes when people are talking disrespectfully about those who are no longer with us on earth.  Although it’s often the case, at funerals especially, that the departed are remembered with love and affection by those who knew and loved them.  Having been to a funeral recently it got me thinking.  Why are some of the loveliest things that are said about us spoken when we aren’t even there?  Surely it’s not right that we wait until a loved one leaves us to say kind things, make positive observations or offer words of encouragement.  I wonder if it’s that we’re all just a bit too British.  But actually it’s not even about our own emotions, it’s just expressing an observation about someone in a positive way.  Why are we afraid to do this on a regular basis?  Why are these kind words saved for a special birthday card, or wedding day speeches?  Perhaps it’s because we are shy, or fear the compliment won...

“All animals are equal but some are more equal than others.” Although Orwell was referring more directly to politics, specifically communism, gender politics is still of huge importance for us today.  I wouldn’t count myself as a ‘burn your bra’ feminist but I do believe EVERYONE regardless of race, religion, sexual orientation or gender has the basic human right to be treated with respect and shown love. On my Facebook timeline this morning I was drawn to two posts that both, in different ways, highlight the extreme inequality women still face with today.   One article was written by Ruby Tandoh (1), a finalist on popular television show Great British Bake Off.  She draws on the amount of criticism she and the other female finalists received in the press and on social media networks. “…there's the broader background of misogyny and gender politics against which this has all played out. It's a culture of frilly baking versus macho Michelin stars, of real ch...