pursuing discipleship through the haze of early parenthood
I'm a stay-at-home mum to four kids between 1 and 6, and was formerly a teacher. I blog about living life as a disciple of Christ whilst coping with the demands and excitements of having small children. I've been battling an addiction with chocolate for many years. I'm generally winning, but my teeth are not.
The other day you asked me whether your younger brothers were your step-brothers. We’d just returned from school, and I was distracted, sorting through book bags, reading letters and signing permission slips, so I don’t think I gave you a very good answer. (That’s the problem with being a parent, you always get asked the Very Good Questions at a time when you’re least able to give a Very Good Answer.) So, here’s my attempt at a better one.
Step-brothers or step-sisters are the children of the person your parent has chosen to marry or partner. So, if your Dad and I split up (which, by the way, we’re not planning to), and I married again, any children of the person I married would be your step-siblings.
But your little brothers are not your step-brothers.
You may not have the same genes as them, but let me reassure you that you are definitely, totally, 100% their big brother – which means that they are definitely, totally, 100% your little brothers.
It’s you that they want to see first thing in the morning, and say goodnight to last thing at night. It’s you that they run to hug in the playground when we pick you up from school. It’s you who they want to chat to, ask questions of, jump on, argue with. It’s you who is teaching them how to be a brother, a boy, a decent human being.
Every time you speak kindly to your little brothers, help them make breakfast, or hold their hand when we’re crossing a road, you’re demonstrating what a great big brother you are. Every time you chase them wildly around the house, give them piggy-backs, wrestle them or let them climb all over you, you’re proving that you’re their big brother. No one else does this for them like you do.
And they adore you. They look up to you. They want to be like you. Sometimes they even wear the clothes you used to wear. When they start school, they’ll be looking out for you – for protection, for reassurance, for modelling how it is they’re supposed to behave.
Sometimes brothers and sisters are made by their Mum and Dad (like you and your sister), and sometimes they’re made in different tummies. But they become your brothers every time you play together, eat together, walk together, watch TV together.
And, ultimately, we believe that it’s God who makes us all, regardless of whose tummy He puts us in. He made you, Missy, Monkey and Meerkat – and He knew you were going to be brothers and sisters way before we did. Isn’t that awesome?
We are so proud of the fantastic boy and wonderful big brother you are. Thank you for being amazing.
And we never, ever want you to doubt that your little brothers are your full brothers – perhaps not by blood, but in every bit of love and life you share together.
If I’m honest, this is the week I was dreading most in 2018. My husband, who usually works from home and hardly ever goes away, has been enrolled on a leadership course which involves a couple of residential weeks. This has been the first of them.
I like to think of myself as fairly independent – a ‘coper’, I guess. And while this week has gone more smoothly than I could have hoped, it’s certainly had its challenges. Experiencing single-parenthood for four days has got me thinking…
I’ve had to be super-organised. Those who know me know I love my lists, my highly-detailed schedules, my reminders and systems for getting through family life (relatively) unscathed. But this week has tested my organisational skills to the limit. For a three-hour period on Monday, my actions were as follows (and yes, it was all written into Google calendar so I wouldn’t forget an activity or child):
3.00 Collect Mister from school.
3.30 Collect Monkey and Meerkat from preschool.
4.15 Collect Missy and her friend from school disco – and drop Mister at his school disco.
4.45 Take Missy and friend to Rainbows.
5.30 Collect Mister from school disco.
5.45 Collect Missy and friend from Rainbows. Drop friend home.
6.30 Return home for a tea I’d cooked in between ferrying everyone around, which three out of four children rejected, at a time when really the youngest two should have been getting ready for bed.
I guess if I were parenting on my own, I wouldn’t have the money or the time to allow each child to do as many extra-curricular activities as they currently do, but this schedule was particularly gruelling without another adult involved. It’s made me grateful for the role DesertDad plays in supporting our children’s interests – taking them to activities, or staying home with the others while I go.
There’s been a lot to fit in. Of course sod’s law has dictated that this be the week where I have a governors’ meeting, governor link visit (and follow-up report to write), a Bible study to prepare for my housegroup, a story to prepare for toddler group, people to liaise with for a Good Friday family event, several blogs, articles and book submissions to write, as well as the usual number of increasingly-outstanding admin tasks that mount up quickly in a family. This would be a busy week even with hubs around, but the fact that I’ve had to add in all the bathtimes, bedtimes, and general clearing up has definitely stretched me.
If I ever felt like moaning that my Other Half wasn’t as involved in domestic chores, I take it all back now. Not only is he hands-on around the home, but he gives a level of support which allows me to pursue interests away from my (wonderful, but demanding) children. If I were solo-parenting, I would need to be much more cautious in my commitments outside of the home.
I’ve had to go easy on myself. I’ve worked hard these last few days, being Mum and Dad. I’ve tried to keep the house reasonable, and tried to spend at least a few minutes of quality time with the kids each day. But it’s exhausting. Many of the projects listed a couple of paragraphs ago (mainly the writing ones) haven’t happened – and I have to remember that that’s OK. I have to remember that I have four well-fed, well-nurtured kids tucked up in bed right now, and that is enough of an achievement for one day.
When you have the luxury of a partner, you have someone to gee you up, to tell you to relax, to watch TV with, chat to, play games with. Single parents need to become sooooo good at telling themselves to switch off! They deserve a break – and no one is going to force this on them apart from themselves.
It’s OK to ask for help. A friend popped in on Tuesday to take Mister swimming, so that I didn’t have to take all of his siblings (cue: half an hour of chasing 3yo twins up and down the balcony with sod all else to do apart from prevent them falling to their death in the deep end of the pool). It was a simple gesture, but I’m glad I asked – it was so much easier to be able to stay at home with the younger three.
Likewise, if you’re parenting on your own, you need to find (and use) this kind of support network. Don’t be afraid to ask – people want to help.
The kids have mucked in. In many ways, the kids have stepped up this week. Not so much in clearing up (more’s the pity), but in the way the older ones have played with/helped/mediated for their siblings has been much appreciated when I haven’t been able to come to their aid immediately.
Children growing up in single-parent families have such an amazing opportunity to learn life skills as they support their parent in running a household. I’m sure this is often incredibly challenging – for both child and parent – but, ultimately, that child has the potential to grow into a very capable, independent human being, knowing how to cook/entertain small children/clean/tidy up or whatever.
We have a few simple tasks we expect our children to help with, but this week has got me thinking – are they the right tasks? Are there ways we could better equip our children by teaching them important skills in running a home?
They miss Daddy. Actually, only one of them has regularly said this – and it’s mainly been when I’ve told him off! But still, the absence of Daddy has been very noticeable, and often talked about in our dinner-time conversations. I guess in long-term single-parent-dom, this feeling of missing the absent parent fades somewhat – or at least it doesn’t get verbalised as often. But it reminded me how hard it is to be both Mum and Dad – in fact it’s impossible, because although you might be doing the tasks of both parents, you can never be the absent parent. And that hurts. For the child, and for you, as you sense their pain and can do zilch about it.
Could I be a single parent?
I don’t think most single parents have the choice – some do, but the majority are flung into it by circumstance, and have no option but to cope. So, if I were put into this situation, yes of course I would cope – for the sake of the kids.
But it wouldn’t be easy. This week I’m learning that.
So, to all my wonderful single parent friends, and any other lovely single parent who may be reading this: hats off to you. You do a fab job and you are noticed.
Every year Mother’s Day rolls around. And every year I see a barrage of comments on social media or blogs about how hard Mother’s Day is for many people. And every year there’s someone who’s calling for the whole thing to be abolished.
I do wonder whether Mother’s Day – like many festivals, special days and life events – has become harder since the advent of social media. Prior to the late 2000s, one could easily avoid card shops in February/March, distract themselves with other pursuits, and then burrow themselves away on the day itself. Nowadays, we’re faced with post after post about people’s brilliant Mums, brilliant kids, heartfelt messages or extravagant gifts.
It’s hard for many people. Not just those whose desire to have children hasn’t been fulfilled, but those whose own mother was absent, neglectful or abusive, those who have lost their mum, those whose mum no longer recognises them, those who have lost a child, Dads who have lost their partner and Mum of their children, and countless other situations.
For others, it’s not necessarily a hard day, but it’s complicated. I can (and will) praise God for giving me each of my four children, but knowing that two of them have a biological mum who they will never meet adds a different dimension to the day.
And this begs the question: should we stop doing something because it’s hard?
This is the world’s way, certainly, and this is the individualistic mindset. It’s a hard place for me to go, so I just won’t make the journey.
But, as Christians, we’re no longer just individuals. We are part of a wide and diverse community. We are called to share in each other’s joys (2 Corinthians 1:7), which means celebrating when one of our sisters is blessed with the gift of children, or another sister is celebrating her close relationship with her own mum, even if we’re not in that situation ourselves.
And here lies another question: does celebration have to be about forced smiles and pretend joy?
Again, this is the world’s way. The world, for all its glitzy appeal, has only very limited possibilities for celebration. It’s really all about looking like you’re having a good time. But, again, as Christians we know a different way.
The Bible speaks of joy and suffering alongside each other (Romans 8:17). Celebrating with a friend who has a big, noisy family, when we’ve suffered a series of failed IVF attempts, is not about being happy all the time. Yes, we share in their joy, but we also share in their suffering: their tiredness, their guilt at not being the Mum they want to be, their sense of helplessness at not knowing how to respond to a child’s behaviour. And they share in our suffering and joy too. We are permitted to cry and be honest with them.
I love the Jewish culture of celebration: it is loud, vibrant and authentic. And I love what they say to those who are suffering: apparently, when someone has suffered a bereavement, they are excused from dancing at celebrations for one year following the event. Note that there is still an expectation to show up at parties. It is acknowledged that a grieving person may not feel like dancing, but that it is still good for them to be in that place of celebration, to be reminded of (and uplifted by) the joys of others.
Mother’s Day is not about boasting of all the cards and presents we’ve received. It’s not about gloating over social media. But neither is it about avoidance. Celebration in its truest sense will involve having conversations with those who are different to us. We need to hear their stories, and they need to hear ours.
Furthermore, Mother’s Day should be a day for celebrating ‘mothering’ in the broadest sense of what it means in a Christian community. And we can all do that. Who has spiritually mothered you? They might be a ‘mother’ figure, or they might be physically younger than you, but Mother’s Day can and should be an opportunity to thank them for the impact they’ve had on your life.
I have two godmothers, neither of whom have children. It saddens me that I have never thought to honour them on Mother’s Day, because both of them have had a positive spiritual impact on my life, and still keep in touch with me well into my 30s. Maybe this is a tradition I can start next year.
One of my friends hasn’t had her own children, but has had a large involvement in the lives of her nieces, and each Mother’s Day they give her special ‘Aunt’ cards and presents, to acknowledge her mothering influence in their lives.
Rather than succumb to the secular urge of Mother’s Day, which is to highlight our nuclear families over any other way of living, we should use this day to do what we Christians need to do daily: thank God for what He has given us (1 Thessalonians 5:18), honestly share our feelings with Him (as modelled all over the Bible, a good example being Job 3), acknowledge our sin in failing to trust him with our parenting, or looking to children to bring fulfilment (John 4:13-14), and being assured of His forgiveness and grace (Psalm 32:1-2), knowing that He longs to draw us closer and change us more towards Christ’s likeness.
So, this Mother’s Day, celebrate. Celebrate with laughter and smiles, with tears and grumpy moments, with elation and confusion, happy thoughts and sadder ones. Embrace the fullness of our God, who has created us capable of experiencing the full gamut of emotions – and take them all to Him.
BooksThis month, I thoroughly enjoyed the beautiful, evocative, thought-provoking and affirming Forever Loved: Eve’s Story – it’s a wonderful book, and the great news for you is that my giveaway is STILL OPEN! Click here to read the review and enter (you have till 11pm Friday night).
For my Book Club, I’ve been enjoying – albeit rather slowly – The Suspicions of Mr Whicher. It tells the horrific true story of the murder of a young child in 1860, a case which shocked the country and inspired the crime writings of Arthur Conan Doyle, Charles Dickens and Wilkie Collins. The timing was interesting: detectives had only been around for a few years, and there were high levels of fascination with the mysterious methods they used – they were treated rather like celebrities. Kate Summerscale tells the story with her own perceptive observations throughout, combining the newspaper articles, letters and other evidence of the day with modern hindsight.
I’m not finding it easy to skim, so it’s taking me a while and I haven’t finished yet, but I totally intend to complete it, especially as March’s book is one I’ve already read!
And I’m still going with the above holy trinity of interesting books – I read the top one daily, the middle one weekly, and the bottom one monthly. More on that here.
Sad news: I’ve given up chocolate for Lent. It was a necessary thing to cut out of my diet. When you can’t get past the 10am mark without reaching for Something, then that Something has to go. Quite honestly, if I were drinking as much alcohol as I was eating chocolate, my kids would be taken away from me.
Actually, it hasn’t been as hard as I imagined. I’ve even manage to make a double batch of brownies this week and not eaten so much as a crumb! I feel the ‘all or nothing’ approach works for me – I wouldn’t have been able to reduce my intake, but cutting it out altogether has actually been OK. And yes, I’ve substituted with crisps and other bits, but I’m loosening the grip chocolate has on me, ridiculous though that sounds.
And, of course, I’m fully intending to return to chocolate on Easter Sunday – although hopefully in better proportions!
It was my BIRTHDAY this month! Which, even as an adult, is quite exciting. A schoolfriend and I have a tradition going back probably 20 years at least, where we always buy each other CDs for birthdays. The world has become increasingly digital around us, but we still insist on CDs. This year, he got me three fabulous Stevie Wonder albums, so I’m enjoying those in the car with the kids, who got to know Sir Duke, If and Believe through taking part in Young Voices recently.
Quite a bit of interesting stuff this month:
Rachel Held Evans has helped many voice their questions but embracing doubt is not healthy As a follower of Held Evans and others in the same camp, I really appreciated this article, which articulated some of what I feel when I read the writings of (particularly American) progressive evangelicals. As the author, Annie Carter, writes, “It’s easy to critique, criticise and mock and put the Church to rights. It’s not easy to lead the flock, or to be a faithful follower of Christ.”
I shared what my first month of ‘being a writer‘ had been like, and wrote some thoughts on Fasting – is it just about a flatter stomach??
Elsewhere, my first piece of writing was published! A promotional piece, advertising the Beer & Pizza Festival at my friend’s marvellous bistro. No credit for the title – I’m rubbish at puns.
Stage and screen
Still catching up with stuff we recorded over Christmas (aren’t we old-fashioned?). On that note, we need a new TV so if any of you wonderful readers can shed light on whether we should go for an all-singing, all-dancing model, or something basic into which we can plug everything we need, please share.
My week with Marilyn was interesting, if it really happened like the film suggests. Having watched ‘Feud: Bette and Joan’, we were obliged to watch Whatever happened to Baby Jane, although I felt ‘endure’ might have been a better verb. I did enjoy Gone Girl, a psychological thriller depicting a man whose apathetic attitude towards his wife’s mysterious disappearance arouses suspicion.
In other news…
* We relished our second trip to William’s Den. If you’re local and have never been, do put it on your bucket list.
* After three years plus, I handed in my notice as a school governor. It’s been a great ride, but now is the right time to hand on to someone else. More coming in a future blog post…
* Over half term, we enjoyed a couple of days down in London, celebrating our eldest nephew’s baptism – as in, a proper baptism where he chose to get baptised, gave his testimony and got totally dunked! It was wonderful, totally glorifying to God and very particular to our nephew, his likes and interests – but I never expected to be blubbing all the way through. How can it have been fifteen years since we were in the same church, celebrating his dedication as a baby?
* We caught up with friends we hadn’t seen for nearly nine years, and another friend who we’re pretty sure we haven’t seen for nearly seven.
* We ate out at least six times…quite unusual for us…a combination of birthday fun and other occasions. Like London buses, you might say.
* The kids and I enjoyed making blueberry pancakes from the Gruffalo cookbook – very tasty.
* And, of course – SNOW!!!
Linking up with Leigh Kramer’s ‘What I’m Into‘ posts. What have you been into during February?
Yep, you read that right! No sooner after giving away a copy of the wonderful ‘Sexuality, Faith and the Art of Conversation‘ to the equally wonderful (presumably – although I’ve never met her so I couldn’t be certain*) Su, I’m waxing lyrical about yet another brilliant book, whose author has very generously offered a signed copy to whichever Desertmum reader wins this giveaway.
(* In case it’s not obvious, this is a JOKE.)
I enjoyed this book so much. For one, it is short – and, before you dismiss this as an irrelevant point from a literary lightweight, remember that many people don’t have lots of time to read. If God’s word is to go out as widely as possible – and author Joanna May Chee certainly feels that the message of God’s love for Eve is one which needs to be heard by women across the world – then length is important. Not all of us have the time for theological tomes on Genesis, thank you very much.
Secondly, it is highly thought-provoking. As I read it, I was confronted with aspects of Eve’s story I’d never noticed before. I don’t want to give spoilers, but highly recommend you get a copy and start delving into this rich narrative for yourself.
Thirdly, it is different from any other Christian book I’ve read. The chapters do not contain the author’s commentary on the story of Eve, each headed with a different application point. There would be nothing wrong with this. But this book is different: the majority of words are dedicated purely to the creative retelling of Eve’s story, and so it reads like a novel, but a punchy one. There is an opening section of Joanna May Chee’s own story, and the final section applies the story to our lives, but the bulk of the book is simply the story of Eve.
And there is power in this narrative – power in the Biblical story, with nothing added except details which help you pull out even more from the tale. Honestly, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing afresh about Eve’s life! If you always thought Eve’s story was a sad, discouraging one, this book will make you think again.
This book would make a fabulous Mothers’ Day gift. Or maybe you can think of a friend in your church or small group who needs encouraging – why not surprise them with this? Buy a few copies and save them up to give your girlfriends on their birthdays. It’s that good.
Forever Loved: Eve’s Story is released TODAY and you can buy it from Eden, Waterstone’s, Wordery and Amazon. AND…as a special first-week offer…the book is being sold £2 cheaper this week than it will after Sunday.
But if you want to get your hands on a free, signed copy – please leave a comment (here, not on social media) before 11pm this Friday, 2nd March, at which point I’ll pick a name using one of those online number generator doo-dahs. Look out on Facebook and Twitter to see if you’ve won!
The giveaway is now closed. Congratulations to BrK who won!
Disclaimer: I received a free eBook to review. However, writing a positive review was not a condition of the deal. I don’t write or publish reviews of things I don’t like – I simply don’t have time. And I never, EVER recommend things unless I really like them. So there.
It is becoming customary, at the start of January, for our church to take some time out, corporately and individually, to pray and fast for the coming year.
Coincidentally, January is also the time I’m keen to lose a few pounds. With Christmas out of the way, I can start planning our summer holiday – and, despite the fact we can’t yet bring ourselves to fly somewhere exotic and warm with our 8-6-3-3 combination of kiddoes, I feel like I need to have a bikini-ready body.
The fact that we will probably end up in Anglesey is beside the point.
If, at some unknown point in the future, I might wish to expose my midriff on a crowded beach, fasting is going to be helpful.
And therein lies the problem. Perhaps the reason that many of us don’t fast is that we’re a little bit scared of doing it for the wrong reasons.
Perhaps we have a complicated relationship with food, and fear that withholding it from our bodies will be more about controlling ourselves rather than allowing God to have control.
Perhaps we are desperate for God to respond to our prayers in a particular way, and fear that fasting will feel like bribing our ‘cosmic Santa’ God to give us what we most desire.
Or perhaps fasting simply feels like ‘work’ within a faith-based salvation. Surely our grace-filled God can’t demand that we carry out such an ancient religious ritual?
I misunderstood fasting for years. I did it – occasionally – because I thought it was a helpful practice, but I didn’t really know why. Nowadays, however, it’s becoming an important spiritual discipline in my life.
On the eve of Ash Wednesday, when many of us might be planning to fast something for Lent, perhaps it’s helpful for me to share what God has taught me as I’ve plodded along:
Fasting is expected (see Matthew 6:16-17). Like prayer, it is not an empty trapping of our religion, but something Jesus upheld which brings us closer to God. Unlike prayer, it doesn’t need to be part of our daily routine (Jesus didn’t fast every day as far as it is possible to tell), but should be a regular part of our lives.
Fasting doesn’t have to be food! Anything which we love, crave, spend a lot of time on, or claim to be addicted to, can be withdrawn as the spiritual discipline of fasting. Social media, alcohol, screentime, a particular TV show…this is particularly helpful when a food fast is not recommended (e.g. in pregnancy, while breastfeeding or where particular health issues are present).
Fasting doesn’t have to be as extreme as 40 days in the desert. It could mean certain times of day (e.g. not snacking between meals, or not eating until the evening), for a few consecutive days (e.g. no social media during a particular week), one day a week (e.g. no TV on Sundays), or for a specified period (e.g. giving up chocolate for Lent).
Fasting reminds us how much we have. And we have a lot, especially here in the UK. If we never fast, we run the risk of taking what we have for granted, assuming it to be an unchallengeable fact of the modern Western Christian’s life that we are ‘entitled’ to these possessions or that luxury. But God may have other ideas.
Fasting helps us to relinquish our idols. It says to God that we are more serious about him than about food, alcohol, sex, social media, TV, or anything else we may feel is becoming an idol. But I think it says more to ourselves. Fasting reminds me that God is worth more than these things – and that, much as I believe I ‘need’ chocolate to get through each day, what I really need is God’s word. (Matthew 4:4)
Fasting creates long-term habits of holiness. If we are serious about allowing God to develop a more Christ-like character in us, then I think fasting will be involved somewhere along the line. Several years ago, I gave up my favourite soap opera for Lent, using the time to read Isaiah instead. I’d been addicted for nearly 20 years, and was gripping on tightly. But the six weeks without it made me realise I didn’t even want to return to it. The grip was gone, the addiction was gone, and I was free to pursue God a little more than I had before.
Fasting realigns our priorities. It keeps us focussed on God in this distraction-riddled life. I pray more when I’m fasting – because every time I feel a pang of hunger, or desperation for whatever it is that I’ve given up, it’s a reminder to pray. So if there are big needs in my life, or the lives of those close to me, fasting is a great way to prioritise spending time with God, offering Him these prayer requests, over any of the other ‘loves’ of my life.
I often picture the Christian journey as a pair of closed fists, holding tightly onto life and independence. As we mature, these fists gradually release, as God gently works in us to loosen our grip on the things which hold us back from loving Him completely.
Fasting, for me, has become a way of submitting my fists to God, asking that He will open whichever fingers necessary in order to let go of what is holding me back, and make more space for that which He would want to develop in me.
Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. (Phillipians 3:12-14)
I would like to encourage you that, even if your motivation to fast is mixed or complex, please allow God to work in you through this important discipline. God doesn’t need our fasting – but we probably do.
And, despite what images come to mind when you hear the word ‘fasting’, the Bible assures us that a life lived for God is more joyous, more full and more exciting than any alternative. Go for it!
Last month, I shared with you my exciting but rather daunting sense of needing to pursue freelance writing during 2018. Since many of you seem to believe this is my calling more than I actually do, I thought you might be interested in an update.
I began the year with a day-and-a-half per week of child-free time. Not much, if you include all the other jobs which mount up with a large family, not to mention commitments at church and school. I determined to ‘protect’ my half-day for writing – but who was I kidding? That would never be enough. That half day has quickly become the full day-and-a-half, and housework and other stuff just gets fitted in whenever. (Or left entirely.)
Even in the first month, I’ve been busy. Of course most of this work isn’t earning me anything, but it’s giving me valuable writing practice in a variety of contexts, an insight into how different publications operate, helping me to find appropriate writing networks and avenues for future writing, and (much as I hate to say it) getting my name out there.
I’ve had to be disciplined. I’m working for myself. No one is going to call me in for a disciplinary if I don’t show up or meet deadlines. If I want to do this, I have to actually do this. I have to write even when I’m not ‘in the mood’, I have to utilise the time when my boys are at preschool, and I have to set myself deadlines in order to get anything done. The collaborative blog or writers’ magazine won’t notice if I don’t submit anything in time for them to consider it for publication – but I will.
That said, I enjoy the freedom. It’s great being able to justify working in coffee shops (no distractions like being at home!) and be there to collect my kids from school. How many jobs are like that? And of course I do sometimes use the child-free time to meet up with friends, catching up with writing in the evening, so all this is good.
I’ve been reminded, in various ways from various sources, that money or fame are not my goals. I’m writing because I’m called to write. In fact, at this stage, I wouldn’t even call it a ‘calling’ – I’m writing to test out what God might be calling me to do. It’s hard not to dream of writing bestselling books, or becoming a well-respected Christian social commentator – but I feel that this season of my life is about God shaping me and working in me as I draw close to Him (and write).
But I’ve also enjoyed writing my first paid piece! It was such a joy to write, although I can’t yet share much about it here. When it’s published, you’ll be the first to know! It’s wonderful to be paid for something you love to do.
And I’ve realised how I need to do some self-promotion. Which is hard. I mean – who actually enjoys selling themselves? Approximately no one. (Except maybe Donald Trump.) It feels so unnatural to be pushing myself forward – especially when I’m often plagued with feelings of self-doubt or inadequacy. But, for all the advantages of working for yourself, this one disadvantage is necessary and worth it. Perhaps one day I’ll even get good at it.
I also submitted my first book proposal! I’m really not sure I’ve sent it to the right person – although I love this publisher, I don’t think that what I’ve written is up their street. But I had to try! And I’m totally convinced by the idea, so if they say ‘no’ then I’ll be knocking on other publishers’ doors until I find someone who agrees with me!
I’m getting more confident about talking of myself being ‘at work’. It’s hard when I’m not dressed in heels or a suit, or dropping my kids at breakfast club, or going out to work – or even getting paid for most of what I’m currently doing. It’s just not a very obvious kind of work. But it is still work, and I’m becoming braver at dropping it into conversation when necessary. (“Sorry – I’m working then.”)
How can you help?
It feels wrong to ask, because you – as my faithful blog readers – are the foundation for everything I’m doing now, and the reason why opportunities are starting to come about. I am so grateful to you all for every encouragement you’ve ever sent. But there are three very quick ways you could help me to build my online platform, helping to raise the profile of my writing and gain opportunities with other publications:
Please follow me by email if you don’t already! There should be a place you can do this in the right-hand column of this blog. The advantage for you is that you don’t have to keep checking back on the blog or social media for new posts – they will automatically be pinged into your Inbox when they’re published. (Of course you don’t need to read them all!)