I found it hiding in me recently, which was an unpleasant surprise. There I was, merrily observing the splinter in my husband’s eye, only to realise that he didn’t have one – the rotten great plank in mine was obscuring my vision. I had been reading a book called ‘Affluenza’ by a man called Oliver James – he travelled the world for 9 months to see if his hunch that being rich didn’t make you happy was true. It was. In fact if being rich is your aim it makes you miserable. On the other hand, if doing what you love makes you rich then you’ll probably be fine. It’s about your motives and goals. Hubby does what he loves, leaves the past where it belongs, accepts present reality with contentment and looks forward to the hidden delights of the future. I regret decisions which mean we don’t have a huge garden, wish I had a big garden now and wonder if we will ever get a garden worthy of bike rides before the kids get old. The kids like playing outside in our current garden. I also woudn’t mind another bedroom. And a dining kitchen. Oh and a big driveway – for two cars. Don’t get me started on shoes….

Exodus 20:17 “You shall not covet your neighbor’s house. You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or his manservant or maidservant, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.”

In the Western World we have so much that it is never enough…

1 Tim 6:11 But you, man of God, flee from all this, and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness.

These words are words I love – their personalities are warm, yet strong; they demand the better side of me and make me want to flee from all the wanting and chase the peace that comes from being content and oh so thankful for what I have been freely given.

1Tim 6:6-8 “But godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that.”

“Research has shown that the popular romantic comedies of today give unrealistic expectations of what to expect in a relationship.”

Boy is that true. Did you know – my husband cannot read my mind and instinctively know when to give me a hug? Or when what I actually need is to be pinned against a wall, stared at intensely and told, “You are the most beautiful person I have ever known and I am privileged to be married to you, know you, spend even one second of my life with you”. In fact if he did that I would probably be very concerned about his mental health; something would be seriously wrong with him.

When we talk at a restaurant, music doesn’t begin to play over our conversation, leaving us with visuals of laughter, meaningful glances and flirtatious looks. Our evenings out (which are few and far between due to the practicalities of babysitters, a busy life and the current very pregnant state of me) do not end in a mad but graceful looking discarding of clothes and delicate undergarments before a non-messy display of tender love-making.

If stereotypical male porn serves to give an unrealistic expectation of the female body and the act of sexual intercourse, then romantic comedies and ‘chick-lit’ is porn for females. The meeting of all our needs in one fallible human being who always says the right thing is an unrealistic expectation.

To apply unrealistic expectations in the spiritual arena… we might not just “know” when we have met the guy that God wants us to be with. I personally believe that there may not be “just one guy”. I believe that God’s grace is wider than that – he allows us to make decisions – he’s given us a box to choose from … 2Cor6:14 “Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness?” and then relationship advice… ‘Love is kind, not self-centred, not quick to anger’…. Apart from that he’s given us common sense. Do you like and get on with him?!! Do you have to pretend with him? Does he encourage you to be the person you were created to be?  Looks are good, but they don’t pay the mortgage! I’m not saying disregard that bit – but put it in its right place and consider practicalities!

Don’t look at the movies when looking for romance. Look at the real lives of those around you. Look at the couples who have been together for years. Ask questions- everyone wants to talk about the person they love. Don’t aim for perfection – no one person is perfect and we are all God’s works in progress.

I don’t always find my particular personality fits very well with being a wife and mother in this current ‘small child’ phase of my life. I am quite an extreme extrovert – or at least that’s what it feels like when I’m spending most of my days with small people and most (at the moment) of my evenings with a husband at business meetings or working on the computer. I am a strongly relational person, with ‘quality time’ being the way I give and receive love. Quality time in the day is difficult to attain when every adult conversation is interspersed with child directed encouragement, instruction or discipline. In the evening I would love to revert to life before children – popping round to friends’ houses at a moments notice, nipping out for a quick drink or deciding that the cinema would be the best choice for that day. As I write this I am not in my usual Saturday morning coffee shop, but sitting in again as hubby ‘networks’ and the children sleep. Most friends also have children and can’t do the spontaneous thing, so I am left to my own devices. Depending on my choice I can feel miserable or contented, ill at ease or peaceful.

If I focus on all the reasons why I should envy others for their lives in their life stages, I miss out on all sorts of things – the fact that I have a husband; the fact that I have kids; the fact that all too soon they will be grown and gone. I may find it cloying when they run to me and only me when they are upset, but I will miss it so much more when they choose not to. I have had and still have strong friendships – they take second place to my husband and family now as they should, but they are still there. I have so much. My choice – for tonight at least – is to be thankful.

When the children are awake, it’s different. I don’t know why and consequently can’t really explain to hubby why time on my own or with a friend is qualitatively better when the children are awake. Maybe it’s because I feel awake. Maybe it’s just that they are making demands, but not on me. My mind is not filled with…”Right, laundry on, now breakfast, Iona, porridge or weetabix? with raisins or banana? (repeat ad nauseaum until she decides to stop whatever she has become engrossed in for long enough to reply) Please don’t wrap that around your sister’s neck, she is not a dog. Yes, Eden, it’s coming, the fact that your weetabix is in the microwave means you’ll like it better. Right, breakfast, juice, breadsticks so Eden doesn’t have a small fit at the fact that she’s not constantly doing something. Bite for Eden bite for Eden, Iona could you stop talking and put something in your mouth, oops, nearly forgot me, oh no I didn’t the whole bowl’s been eaten, so much for savouring my food. Ok facecloth, wipe girls, table, Iona take your bowl to the kitchen, I know you dont want to but you’re so good at it and it’s so helpful for mummy, here you go, no get up, you are taking it, here you go. Thank you so much, yes of course you can take mine too.Right now, toilet, coat, oops-teeth-bags, out the door….” and so it goes on. Here in the coffee shop I can stop my brain from planning the next minute,hour,nap, bath, sleep. Someone else is talking to them… 

 …as it happens, someone else was letting Eden eat Play-Doh… oh well – NON TOXIC is emblazoned all over the pots, and we needed some  more anyway.

The entirety (or so it seems) of Britain has been thrown into chaos, billions of pounds have been lost from work hours, there have been lots and lots of all kinds of accidents in the last few days, travel plans have become crammed with uncertainty and it takes me about three hours longer than usual to leave the house after wrapping the girls up until they look like Maggie from The Simpsons, but God, it’s BEAUTIFUL!

I love the snow. It reminds me of walking through snow up to my calves to get to school when I was younger. It reminds me of the times we would have half the church out to our village, which was very close to a great sledging hill; we’d go back to our house to warm up next to the Aga with freshly baked scones and cups of tea. It reminds me of hurling myself down the school playground skid track. When I get to that thought I stop. Maybe my skills have improved… I can now ski down a mountainside – albeit fairly gingerly, but I can do it. Throwing myself down a skid track still appeals to me, but I don’t know if I’d be able to do it! I am taller – further to fall. I am also 16 weeks pregnant, so throwing myself down a skid track would probably fly in the face of medical advice. The exhilaration still stands strong in my memory though, and the laughter when we fell. I just don’t fall so well as an adult.

As children we make mistakes, reflect and move on, learning from our experiences (and sometimes not!). As an adult we too often nurse them, examine and discuss them, reprimanding ourselves for not having done a better job, for not seeing the future or having faulty reasoning. Or we hide them away hoping that no one else will realise what fools we are. I don’t run down the skid track in case I’ll fall – but that’s half the fun at least. I don’t embrace life, or faith, in case I fail, in case I look a fool. But that’s half the fun.

“A life lived in fear is life half lived” (Strictly Ballroom). I remember reading somewhere that we fear the person whose praise we seek. I want to seek the praise of God and embrace life with the fears until the fear disappears and is replaced with exhilaration. I might fall, people might be watching, but if Christ came that we might have life in abundance, I’m sure he meant that we should throw ourselves down a few skid tracks. I’ll stick to the metaphorical ones while I’m pregnant though.

Well, I thought I could stay in my bed reading all day. I was bored of that by 855. Stay in my pjs til midday! I was dressed by 9. I could have gone shopping for a bit, but a friend was coming round to veg and watch back to back recorded TV shows, and I didn’t know when. So I tidied and restored order and loveliness to my bedroom. It is now sparkling. Hubby loves it, I love it. My little girl is impressed with my tidying and I have since gone on to tidy her room and make it beautiful. I now need to maintain it, which I am currently very motivated to do.

My revelation about Thursday – I like my job, my house-wife one. I’ve been getting quite despondent about the day to day, dragging myself from chore to boring chore. I was challenged by my attitude and the fact that self-control is a fruit of the Holy Spirit; I was refusing to let it blossom by telling myself I was tired, couldn’t be bothered, hated housework.

I told myself off, did what I couldn’t be bothered to do and feel on top of the world now. God is a God of order not chaos. I am deep in self pity when I berate the state of my house and claim I can’t do anything about it. Self pity leads to nothing positive. ‘Be transformed by the renewing of your mind.’ Romans 12:2.

Now I need to try and remember that when it all goes belly up again…