Contentment and small trials and 'irritations'

'But godliness with contentment is great gain' 1 Timothy 6:6

'Do everything without grumbling or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, "children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation". Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky as you hold firmly to the word of life' Philippians 2: 14-16

Often on this blog, I consider how we can stand fast in our faith in the face of trials. Many times I have discussed ways in which we don't just stand fast, but see our faith in our amazing God flourish and see Him working all kinds of good in us, through us and around us through perseverance in the face of trials. (For example, here, here, here or here). But, lately I have also been thinking about what a person might consider a 'trial' to be.

Is it easier to accept a sudden, unexpected, extreme event as within God's sovereignty rather than the more trivial, day-to-day inconveniences? Is it easier to see how God is in perfect control when something that seems entirely outside of human control occurs?

The other morning I read this very helpful article via the Desiring God website: 'Ten Thousand Small Trials' This made me think about the things that can throw me off course and feel discontent during daily life. A powercut on the day I forgot to fully charge my computer and mifi device. A traffic jam, simply because another driver seeks to be selfish and has cut through the traffic to the junction and completely blocked the other side of the road.  A colleague who seems to be struggling to understand and act on some instructions, and it seems it would have been a lot quicker just to have done the task without delegating. A relational misunderstanding that seems set to escalate without easy resolution. A child whose behaviour has been trying in small but persistent ways through the day. Is God sovereign in these? Absolutely! Can God develop our faith in these? Without doubt! Are these trials enough to build in us all the wonderful things that are listed in 1 Peter 1, James 1, Romans 5 and the other passages (things like perseverance, character, hope, faith being proven genuine, hope that does not disappoint). Yes indeed!

Of course everything has it's flipside, and the opposite of contentment is often envy. On that same morning, I also read this article on 'Seven Strategies for Fighting Envy'. Envy is a funny one  - it gets onto all the lists of sins to avoid and characteristics of ungodly people, but in some ways it is different from other sins. It doesn't lure us with the promise of something (pleasure, success, popularity, comfort, ease, whatever it is we perhaps long for). It is something that may not have an obvious external manifestation. And I think (in my circles at least) it is something that is rarely discussed among Christians, and something which people rarely admit to. For me, it is a horrible sin that hits at the most unexpected times, sometimes for no discernible reason.

I think there is something which bring both of these issues to the forefront: social media! The first thing I wish to say, is that I think social media can be very useful, and can be used in many different ways to glorify God. Personally, living many thousands of miles from family and many of my closest friends, I find it a valuable way to be able to maintain relationships, at least to an extent, to share to a tiny degree in life events that I miss out on (birthdays, weddings, graduations, holidays), and to seek to encourage my friends and 'consider how you may spur one another on towards love and good deeds' (Hebrews 10:24). The second thing I would say, is that 'there is nothing new under the sun'. Changing means of communication and technology does not cause sin, but rather might provide a new avenue for sin, or open up a temptation we had not predicted. This is not a rant against one specific thing, but rather an observation.

One trend I have noticed, is the type of post which moans about a small trial. For example, it is currently warm in Europe. For most of the year, people complain about the weather, and now that it is hot and sunny, there are an equal number of complaints. 'How can a person manage with a baby in this heat?', 'This is unbearable', 'Where is the ice?', and so forth. This is just an example. I also see it among new parents, whose post seem to be a continual complaint about the day to day realities of looking after a baby - listing the number of times the baby woke in the night, describing in detail a nappy change that went awry, these types of situations. And the responses are usually affirmatory - 'Poor you, it's so tough, yes, I will validate you in this'. The reason I struggle with those types of posts is that rather than helping the person see their experience as a reality of life, and embracing it as every bit as God-given as anything else, they tend to take a person's eyes off the goodness of God, and onto themselves. And with social media, it is rare indeed for a person to post a comment that does not go along with what the original poster wishes. And so it can be self-perpetuating. Rather than thanking God for a healthy child who wakes in the night for a feed, and thanking God for those quiet night hours which are an opportunity to find strength in Him and to pray, people can be encouraged to self-pity and to think that their experience is outside the normal boundaries of reality. There can be an unhealthy introspection (for example, the pregnant friend who complains daily about the pregnancy might not see how that can be hurtful to the single friend or the one who longs for a child). But within the narrow bounds of social media, it can be very difficult to draw alongside the person who persistently makes these types of posts and seek to encourage and disciple them that there can be a better way. (Here, I am not talking so much about the occasional post, but those individuals who make it a pattern. If you use social media, you know what I mean!)

The Bible makes it clear that thinking positively is both a choice and a discipline. Look at Philippians 4:8: 'Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things'. Or 2 Corinthians 10:5 'We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ'. We should be encouraging one another to learn an 'attitude of gratitude', and yet these subtle things on social media are doing the exact opposite, and seem to encourage one another that it is OK to complain about small things. We should be seeking to live differently to the world around us. And the wonderful promise in Philippians 2 is that by doing so, we can 'shine like stars in the universe as we hold out the word of life'. It is so counter-cultural to be content and thankful, that our attitude in the face of both the big trials and the day-to-day hassles can be a means of sharing 'the reason for the hope that we have' (1 Peter 3:15)

I think one reason this grumbling might happen, and it ties in with the thoughts about envy, is that social media can paint a very false reality. I am aware that when a person looks at my Facebook page (the main page which is open, more than what I might share in smaller groups of trusted friends), it can look as though I live in tropical paradise, with endless field trips and adventures, continual home cooking and outdoor activities, surrounded by friends. These aspects are all there! But between these, is the day to day grind (powercuts, traffic jams, minor illnesses, children to discipline, work to complete, medical emergencies, general life, work and relational issues). But those aren't things that make a nice photo, or that I write home about. One thing I struggle with in this season of life is that my husband and I very rarely have time alone outside the house without the children (maybe once a year at current rates) - and when that is getting me down, I seem to notice that 'everybody' on Facebook has had an evening out with their spouse, has had grandparents take the children for a weekend, has had opportunity to do the one thing that I find elusive. And so, rather than celebrating what God has provided for both my friends, and for my own family, envy creeps in. I tell you for sure, if we did have an evening together, I would not post about it on Facebook but would be off enjoying the time! But you see the principle, and I need to know when just to stop, to stop comparing myself to others or allowing envy and discontentment to creep in and steal the joy in what blessings I have. I need to know when 'catching up with old friends' becomes unhealthy.

One never really can tell what lies behind a perfect picture. And, one never can tell what will happen tomorrow, or even later today. The book of Ecclesiastes is very clear that there is a 'time for everything' time to mourn, time to dance, time to live, time to die. When we look only at a snapshot, that can cause both discontentment or envy, and the root of both is often a failure to appreciate and celebrate God's sovereignty in the rich abundance of life.

Recently, I reflected on why sometimes it can seem that God has answered the same prayer of two individuals in different ways, and how this can fit with a God that is sovereign, good, loving, kind and wise. Many of the principles are just the same in the 'smaller' trials. Why does one person have a baby who sleeps 'through the night' by six weeks, when mine took five years to achieve this? Why does my friend not seem to struggle with the child discipline issues that cause us such difficulty? Why do I suffer with an invisible hidden disability which sometimes keeps me from serving God in a way which I think would be more effective than my current life? Why does my friend have a bigger, nicer home, better for hospitality? Why this, why that? Why not accept all things, both good and challenging, as part of God's wonderful, abundant, bountiful provision for your individual life, and seek to honour Him in that?

So, as I prepare for today - and whatever joys or challenges (and combination of the two) that lie ahead, I resolve to see everything as an opportunity to serve God, and glorify Him.

10 years since my baby died: A reflection

Today marks ten years since our first child died. These past months have been strange as we remember everything that took place between 12th April 2008 when she became ill and 26th May 2008 when she died. We always remember at this time of year, but this year has been different. Sometimes the emotions have been stronger, almost as though it happened yesterday. Some days, it feels so distant that it is almost as though it was something that happened to somebody else in some kind of dream. Sometimes I feel that I have said everything that needs to be said, and that there are no new memories and no new discussion points.

But I am often reminded of how much she remains part of our lives, and how she taught us more in a short life than many children will teach their parents. Even this year, we've had several friends walk a similar path, and it can be an honour to walk alongside them, to share their stories and their tears, and try to help them find their strength and hope in God. Part of the gift that our daughter gave us is that particular role, perhaps not a role that one would choose, but one which we have been prepared for in some ways.

Three years ago I wrote about how grief changes with time, and about the things that I would want people to know about how the grief felt with the passing of the years. Today I will build on that, and share some other reflections. I am writing to those who are walking through grief and loss, and to those who walk beside them.

1. You don't 'get over it', and nobody should expect you. I see it more like a person who has a limb amputated - the immediate pain and subsequent disability might pass, and a person might learn to function to a very high level. Just look at some of the paralympian athletes! But the part is still missing, and there may be days when that causes more pain or disability than at other times - perhaps associated with illness, stress or other trauma. Your life builds around the loss, but there will be a part that is changed forever.

2. Change can be positive or negative or neutral. I find it helpful to consider all the ways that our daughter's illness and death changed our lives for the better, and on the darker days to spend time counting the blessings. I've written more about that here, but in summary, I think we have a clearer perspective of what is really important, tend to be more focussed and live 'in the moment', not knowing what tomorrow holds. I think having known deep sorrow, we can sometimes appreciate greater joy. We are not afraid of discussing difficult topics, and don't run from uncomfortable conversations or emotions. There are many things that are good. But sometimes this can also bring aspects that are not so easy - it can sometimes be difficult to relate to others, especially when people are getting very worried about 'first world problems' or things that seem trivial. There are times when the grief can feel very lonely, and it can be difficult to explain to people who we have met more recently. The focus on what is happening now, and not worrying about tomorrow can sometimes make it difficult to plan more than a month or two ahead.

3. Every person's grief is different. That might sound very obvious, but it is so important to listen carefully to what a grieving person is saying, and not to try and apply any 'formulas' for their recovery. Even if two situations seem very similar on the outside, the individuals involved are unique. This year I've spent some time reflecting on whether there are any fundamental beliefs that might make it easier for a person to work through agonising loss, and I think a large part might be how they view the nature of God. I wrote about that here , here and here. But even then, the way a person will respond day to day, the fluctuations, the temptations - these will be different between individuals.

4. You cannot grade grief. All loss is painful. It does not make sense to try and comfort a person by pointing out all the other people who are in far 'worse' situations, or who have experienced a string of losses. I am thankful that God cares about the details of our lives so very much, and is filled with compassion for each of us. We must take care not to minimise another person's loss (or our own), but rather approach each situation and its context.

5. At the same time, we must remember that suffering is to be expected in this life. As the Apostle Peter wrote (1 Peter 4:12-13) 'Beloved, do not think it strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened to you; but rejoice to the extent that you partake of Christ's sufferings, that when His glory is revealed, you also may be glad with exceeding joy'. It is also wrong to think that your own suffering is worse than anybody else can imagine. I have reflected on this before, but I think it was much easier for us to be living in southern Africa after our daughter died, where one out of two women in my city had a baby die under the age of five. It was accepted to be a painful loss, but not beyond the normal experience in society. Sometimes by tiptoeing around a person, perhaps allowing and even enabling sinful behaviours, we can actually hinder their processing of the situation and moving forward.

6. There are days when you just long for heaven, for the place where 'God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away' Revelation 21:4. This need not be a bad thing - I think through pain, we can have a clearer perspective on eternity and those things that matter most. But just because something brings good does not mean that it is not painful.

7. Similarly to the point above, faith and grief are not opposites. I find John chapter 11 very helpful here. When Jesus was told of the death of Lazarus, He wept even though He knew He was about to perform an incredible miracle. Why did He weep? Because death and loss are painful. Did Jesus' sorrow mean He lacked faith? Absolutely not! I think this is important, because one thing that we found difficult was what felt like an assumption that because we were able to hold fast to our faith (and indeed our faith grew!), that this was not a very painful time, and that it doesn't still hurt. It sometimes can be easier to identify people who are obviously struggling - perhaps expressing major doubts in their faith, stumbling into sin, adopting unhealthy behaviours and coping strategies. But even if you think your friend is 'coping well', ask them from time to time even as the years pass.

8. God's word and promises are the rock on which we stand. I love the Psalms - because there, the full range of human emotions and experience are laid bare as the writers bring their pain and fear, or their joy and delight, before God. God is not shocked by our emotions, since they are part of how He made us. We can pour out our hearts before Him, any time we wish. There may be many clamouring voices offering worldly wisdom or passing comfort, but God's word is eternal and will stand the test of time. For me, the Psalms in particular remind me of that.

9. 'Seeing then that we have a great High Priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a High Priest who cannot sympathise with our weaknesses, but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need'. Hebrews 4:14-16 Those words are pure gold!

Our daughter's life was a very pivotal time in our lives. There were days when it felt very clearly that there was a choice to be made in how we lived and in how we responded. It was a time of priority setting, and considering everything in the light of eternity. It was the time when we knew with certainty: 'In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been grieved by various trials, that the genuineness of your faith, being much more precious than gold that perishes, though it is tested by fire, may be found to praise, honour and glory at the revelation of Jesus Christ, whom having not seen you love. Though now you do not see Him, yet believing, you rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, receiving the end of your faith - the salvation of your souls' 1 Peter 1:6-9

5 things to be thankful for

It has been another busy month in our household. Both parents have been travelling back-to-back for work, and time together has been limited. But the children seem well adjusted to this - they know that there are special things they will do (and eat!) when Mum is away, and different things they will do (and eat) when Dad is away. They also know that we are likely to bring back surprises from our travels, most of which are edible. They love to hear stories of where we have travelled to, and to see photos and read about the history of the place. For example, I was recently in Italy, and they had been studying the Renaissance over the past few weeks, so they were particularly interested in what I was able to see. (Truth be told, my main time for sightseeing is usually when I go jogging before dawn with a digital camera in my pocket, but this does often produce dramatic photos of beautiful buildings lit up against the darkness).

It is always good to stop and reflect and give thanks, and I find this particularly the case when life is busy. Sometimes it can be too easy to lament the challenges and complain about the consequences of choices we have made, and to neglect to see the abundant blessings that are present in every day. So here are five things I am thankful for:

1. As described above - I am thankful that our family structure enables both parents to work flexibly, and that we are able to share many of the experiences with the children.

2. Because our time together has been limited, we decided to head to a rainforest for three days, bringing with us no digital devices. We hiked through the forest and enjoyed an amazing array of wildlife - birds, butterflies, insects, plants, fungi. The children astonished us by the things they spotted, and their ability to recognise particular species and confidently explain why they knew it was one rather than another. We all learnt something, but even more importantly, we enjoyed being together and considering the vastness of God's amazing creation. When you are busy working, it is easy to become very focused on a specific task or project - and rightly so. But it is so restful to remember that there is so much more! This really helps us to regain perspective with regard to what matters most. In the evenings, we sat round a bonfire and told stories and sang songs. It was refreshingly simple, and both children and parents came back refreshed (there are other holidays which are fun, but where I have returned feeling more tired than before).

3. Their love for learning. When we started to home educate, one of the driving reasons was to preserve their natural curiosity and desire to find out more about the world around them. We had seen too many bright and inquisitive children enter mainstream school and within a year or two to seem dull and frustrated by the educational process. At first, our 'education' was very practical, and we spent most of each day out and about. Now that the children are a little older, we also cover the necessary building blocks of language arts (spelling, grammar, handwriting, creative expression) and  mathematics as well as the more interest-driven areas of history, geography, world cultures, science, art, music, cooking and so forth. We tend to spend about three hours each morning working on these, and there have been days when one or other child has complained about the need to concentrate and work hard on an area which doesn't automatically come naturally. As parent/teachers, we have felt the tension between letting the child do things 'in their own time' and to abandon the tricky subject and come back another day, against teaching them the value of good hard work (actually, either approach might be right, depending on the exact situation). But over the past week I have been encouraged again by just how much they are learning and developing, and by how much they have absorbed through reading around their areas of interest or simply exploring and experimenting.

4. Just how much they are all growing and developing. We felt quite happy for the boys (aged 8, 7 and 5) to set, light and tend the bonfire (with supervision). It seems like yesterday that we felt we could not turn our backs for a moment without risk of some disaster or other, but suddenly we seem to have some sensible and responsible boys. The five year old has regularly been asking to help with tasks around the house, and has actually been helpful (as compared to the toddler who tries to help and ends up creating twice as much work). Meanwhile the two year old is communicating well, is potty trained and can walk many miles carrying her own water bottle. Whilst celebrating these things, I also feel a kind of wistful awareness that the 'days are long but the years are short'. When I see a parent with a baby in the airport, I remember those days, but realise they are past. I am thankful that we have chosen to spend so much time with our children and to be able to enjoy their childhoods.

5. For technology. This might sound a random point, but often I reflect on how I am able to run projects in several different countries whilst working part-time with the young children largely because I can do so much work by email or teleconference. I feel it is a job that simply would not have been possible ten or fifteen years ago, and I am thankful for the advances that have changed the way we are able to live and work.

So, five things to be thankful for! As I write, I am sitting at an airport preparing to travel between Africa and Europe again. Often when I travel I feel challenged by the contrasts that I see in life all around me - so many different situations and circumstances, so many hopes and dreams, trials and frustrations - and at the same time, I am reminded of how alike we all are, irrespective of our backgrounds. I am also thankful for that perspective - that every challenge brings an opportunity, that times of suffering and pain can lead to greater joy, and that even as I feel sad to be apart from my family for another few days, it makes me realise just how precious the times together are.

Give thanks in all circumstances

'Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus' 1 Thess 5:18

This weekend, I had planned to spend more time reflecting on the aspects of our faith which can most help a believer stand firm in the face of trial. Instead, I've had crippling pain in my neck and arm, and have only been able to function by taking four classes of analgesia. However, this has given me cause to reflect, and to be thankful:

1. I am thankful I am not in this amount of pain all the time! I have a genetic condition which means that from time to time I do get severe pain from my joints, but much of the time I am able to function perfectly well. On the days when I feel incapacitated, it is a reminder of what I am spared, much of the time.

2. I am thankful that God gives sufficient strength to function. I had important work meetings this week, and yesterday was a seven hour thanksgiving service at church. I was able to give as much to these as I was able (and most likely, very few people would have noticed anything amiss). 

3. I am thankful for medicines. I usually carry a selection with me, so that if I have an injury or a flare up, I can treat the symptoms rapidly. I have been considering how disabling this condition would be without these medicines

4. I am thankful that it gives me a greater understanding of what people with 'hidden disabilities' must endure. I am better able to 'rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn'. It makes me aware that other people might be facing unseen challenges

5. I am thankful that the Lord knows all things. Sickness, including genetic conditions like mine, is ultimately a consequence of the fallen world we live in. God knows the challenges we face every day - be it physical limitations, pain, mental health challenges, every bit as much as He is aware of our external circumstances. We can draw close to Him in our times of trial, and for that I am most thankful.

6. I am thankful that this teaches me humility - when life and work are going well, there can be a temptation to become confident in ourselves. Setbacks like this remind me that we are frail humans, dependent on God's gracious provision every day.

7. I am thankful for the reminder that God's timing is perfect. Sometimes we wonder why things happen when they do - why does a challenge or an illness come at what seems to be a most inconvenient time? It's a reminder to trust that God knows about this, and can work in and through it. In fact, I was meant to travel this weekend and the trip was postponed; whilst initially disappointed, I have been very thankful that I have no travel and a relatively empty diary this week.

So, as the week starts, I am in pain and feel a bit daunted. My husband has just travelled for a few days so I'm alone with the children. I can't easily rest the way I would like, and I can't take the stronger painkillers as they make me a little drowsy. But I do know from previous experience, that God will give me strength and grace enough to get through the day, and that He will surprise me with joy and encouragement along the way.

I wonder what challenges you face this week? Do some situations feel impossible? Let me encourage you to trust God, who knows all about it - even more about it than you do. Look back over God's faithfulness and provision to you, and trust that He will continue to provide all you need.

God's sovereignty and goodness: Comfort in grief

Sometimes I am acutely aware of dates and anniversaries, and at other times they creep up on me. For us, because we have lived in some very different cultures and climates, some of the usual 'triggers' are not there, and in our current location close to the equator where there seem to be so few changes in season, we often don't really appreciate what time of year it is at all. So perhaps I have been a little surprised at how aware I am that it is August, and that 10 years ago, we discovered we were expecting our first child.

I remember those days... Feeling tired, really tired, but very happy. Having a secret (we didn't tell people around us that I was expecting until it was obvious, and people in our passport country until we came home for the birth), but feeling very thankful for this gift of new life. One of the reasons we didn't tell people was because of our awareness that life is fragile. I had miscarried before, and I knew quite a number of friends who had suffered miscarriages at all stages of pregnancy (not just before that mythical 'twelve weeks' at which time many people tend to assume that they are 'safe'). I remember a quiet thankfulness and awe, and I would often reflect on Psalm 139 - how God knows about all life since even before conception, and that it is all perfectly in His hands.

Fast forward ten years... Three boys are working on electronic circuits whilst my two year old daughter sleeps. It is a peaceful Saturday where none of us have had many pressing tasks to achieve, and we've been able to sit under palm trees drinking strong black coffee, talking over the next few months and reading adventure stories aloud to the children. Shortly I'll go to church for music practice, we might go running in the cool of evening before sunset. Again, I am overwhelmed with thankfulness and all that God has given me.

It is not how I would have expected things to be. Sometimes I look back to ten years ago as to days of innocent hope, to a world that felt different. Life had not always been easy up to that point, and we'd had to grapple with questions about why a God of love would allow pain and suffering - yet somehow the trials that we had known until that point could clearly be related to sin (either our own or somebody else's). The illness and death of our daughter was different - excruciatingly painful, yet free from complex feelings of guilt, shame or blame.

Over the past ten years, I have interacted with many families who have grieved the loss of a loved one, including many where the person who died was a child. I've wept with them as I have sought to bring comfort from what we learnt as we also walked through those deep waters. Lately, I have been reflecting on what really helps a person through that grief. Three years ago, I reflected on what a 'wish list' of a bereaved parent might look like several years down the line, and whilst I would say much the same things today, I have been thinking at a deeper level. What is it, deep down, that helps a person come to terms with excruciating loss and move forward with hope, joy and thankfulness?

I think much can be summarised in a single phrase: The sovereignty of God'. Or two phrases: 'The character of God' and 'the sovereignty of God'. Let me explain.

Psalm 139 verse 16 reads, 'All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be'. Do we really believe that? Do we really believe that God would ordain some people to have many thousands of days, and others to have only one or two, or indeed no life beyond the womb? But in considering that, do we really believe that God is good? That He is love? I know some people who have walked away from the church or any desire to seek or know God because they come to consider him as a 'capricious being who throws dice'. They cannot come to terms with the fact that God knew in advance the tragedy that would befall them, and yet in His wisdom, permitted it to happen.

I think there are several reasons for this. In part, I think it can be easy whilst living in this world to lose sight of eternity. Yet throughout the Bible we are encouraged to keep our eyes on the bigger picture, on the long game. In the words of the Apostle Paul, 'Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal'. 2 Cor 4:16-18. I find it absolutely fascinating to read what Paul described as being 'light and momentary': 'I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again. Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day on the open sea. I have been constantly on the move, I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my own countrymen, in danger from Gentiles, in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea and in danger from false brothers. I have laboured and toiled and often gone without sleep, I have known hunger and thirst and often gone without food, I have been cold and naked'. 2 Cor 11:23-27. I wonder whether many modern Christians, facing even one or two of those circumstances, would consider their trials 'light and momentary'? But Paul had his eyes fixed on the final goal, on eternity, and on God's purpose through it all, and therefore he did not lose heart. One of my favourite verses, especially when my heart feels like it is breaking, is in the description of heaven found in Revelation chapter 21: 'Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.' Rev 21:3-4

But Paul didn't just have a blithe acceptance that somehow all the suffering and pain would one day be erased. He understood that God was working in and through these trials for His glory. Similarly, the Apostle Peter wrote to a church who was facing such severe persecution that many Christians had needed to flee, and so the church had been 'scattered'. He described it thus: 'In this you greatly rejoice though now for a little while you have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuiness of your faith - of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire - may result in praise, glory and honour when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen Him, you love Him; and even though you do not see Him now, you believe in Him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end of your faith, the salvation of your souls' 1 Peter 1:6-8. So, trials prove our faith genuine. Does that mean that a person who struggles greatly in the face of a trial does not have faith? Not necessarily, but I do think there may be a misunderstanding of God's great purposes throughout history and through our lives. (I am fully aware I am not addressing this issue fully!)

Throughout the Bible, we are never given any assurance that knowing the amazing love, grace, forgiveness and salvation of Christ will mean our life in the here and now will be easy. Indeed, one of the last things Jesus told his disciples before his death on the cross was this: 'I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world'  John 16:33. We are warned of conflict within families, misunderstanding and potential rejection by our communities. We are told that we will be like pilgrims and strangers in the world - which may sound poetically idealistic, but in fact might often be cold, lonely and fraught with challenges.

I love to read writings of the Puritans. I've recently remarked on reading a simple novel written by a Puritan, where there is a strong worldview of God's sovereignty radiating off the page. Read many biographies or commentaries written in that era, and this is an overwhelming strength of their faith. You read of families where 19 children were born but where only 8 survived to adulthood, and yet the family rejoices in God's goodness. You read of real hardship, of poverty, of illness, of the toil and grind of daily life in the pre-industrial era, and yet a real thanksgiving is apparent. More latterly, one can read of Christians like Elisabeth Elliott whose first husband Jim was killed with several friends by the Auca Indians to whom they were seeking to bring the gospel. In the wake of this, Elisabeth remained among that tribe and saw many come to a genuine faith. Her writings are strongly Biblical, and often filled with a real pragmatism: life may be difficult and painful, yet we need to look to what God has called us to do. And that is inspiring!

But such a strong confidence of God's goodness in the face of extreme trial seems less common today. In many parts of the world, life is much less troublesome and traumatic, and those who face trials such as the death of a child or the premature death of a spouse are seen as unusual. There is no quick or easy answer to these situations, and so loved ones, and indeed often fellow Christians may step away, lacking the confidence and assurance required to address these deep questions in a loving, but Biblical way. 'How can a God of love allow this?' is one of the deepest, most heart-felt questions a person can ask, and yet many Christians today seem ill-equipped to answer.

Many modern Christian songs focus more on us or our response rather than on God's goodness and sovereignty. Erroneous prosperity teaching does not just relate to matters of finance, but also to areas of health, wellbeing, relationships and comfort, and our current generation often has a sense of entitlement (for more about this, read this book!). And these are errors which diminish appreciation of the true power and glory of God. The gospel was never about us having an easy, long, comfortable and healthy life in this world, but is to do with the amazing freedom that arises from having our sins forgiven and being able to approach God with confidence and boldness, having that relationship restored. It is about peace in the face of trials, and an incredible everlasting hope.

My prayer is for a generation of Christians who can really get to grips with God's sovereignty without losing sight of his perfect love and goodness. For me, these are the elements that enabled us to see our daughter's life as a precious gift, and to have been a life which pointed many towards God's glory.

Home is here

The last few months have been tiring. Many of the reasons are predictable - busy work schedules for both of us involving a lot of travel, homeschooling the children, being involved in church and regularly hosting meetings in our home, runs of minor illnesses, and sometimes just the thing where being in a 'different' culture can make simple tasks seem a lot more tiring than one might expect.

A friend shared this article about 'ten things a missionary may not tell you' - I resonated with some of this. Indeed, last year, I wrote about how I think the best ways to support your cross-cultural overseas workers is sometimes to simply be a friend and remain in contact and keep the relationships alive. Sometimes I share these kind of links with friends in the hope that they hear me, and realise just how aching the loneliness can be at times, but somehow I find it hard to be 'heard' and that can only compound the feelings of isolation and misunderstanding.

However, today there blew a breath of fresh air. I have some colleagues from the UK who are here for a few days, one in Africa for her first time. So the children and I took them downtown - not to the particularly tourist places, but to the places where you can buy fabric cheaply, where you see men carrying huge packages on their heads (my favourite must be when they stack about twenty mattresses up high!), to where children crawl around the stalls, and where you think it must be possible to buy just about anything if you knew where to look. But the thing I found remarkable was that it didn't seem strange at all. Here we were, in a part of town where you rarely see foreigners, with four children in tow, darting in and out of traffic and dodging the head-carriers, but it just felt normal. There were one or two things (like crossing the chaotic taxi park) that I used to find absolutely terrifying and completely perplexing all in one, but somehow even that felt normal. My friends assured me that this absolutely was not normal and it was completely eye opening and crazy.

What I realised was that this is home. The children were leading the way, explaining about all kinds of things (some of the history, the different types of military vehicle on the street, the different street foods they prefer) and I saw just how at home they are here too.

Often the loneliness I feel is not a consequence of being overseas from my passport country, so much as a phase of life. My children are young and still require a lot of input and supervision. When my husband is overseas, I rise very early and stay up very late to get my academic work completed. The only evenings I don't work are when I am hosting a Christian meeting of some type, often leading a Bible study and making sure everybody is comfortable, with drinks and cake. There just isn't a whole lot of time for 'socialising'.

I remember when we left our neighbourhood in the UK, how I hadn't quite realised how settled we were and how strong some of the relationships were until it was time to leave. I  think I am beginning to see that here. My children love the Bible studies, especially when one of the young men comes a little early to play raucous games outside with them. Their favourite songs are in multiple different languages. They enjoy laughing (in a healthy way) at the differences between the cultures (and in return, are often laughed at too - the people here have a very robust sense of humour).

I was encouraged to simply give thanks that this is our home. This is where God has brought us, and where He has provided community, fellowship and life.

Yes, there are tiring days, lonely days, and sometimes sad days. But these are irrespective of my physical locality - and I must take care to see that as the case.

And now, I must stop blogging and return to preparing Sunday lunch for a group of friends who will join us here.

Quiet thankfulness

Yesterday my children were eating lunch on a 'raft' they had built out of fallen branches from the palm trees. It was warm, but pleasant and we enjoyed the sound of birdsong and counting the different types of beautifully coloured butterfly we could see. It was one of those moments that you wish you could freeze in time and keep forever.

I was overwhelmed with thankfulness for so many things. Nine years ago, we were grieving for our firstborn, and in the strange situation of being parents, but having no living children. I remember the days feeling long, feeling lonely, feeling cold. Fast forward to today, and I am surrounded by four lively children who are so full of curiosity and enthusiasm, continually learning and exploring new things. I thank God so much for these blessings; I often can barely believe I have been given such privilege and responsibility as to raise them.

Lately, I have thought about grief - that it is a process, but one which has no real end. The sorrow of our daughter's death remains, along with the pain of knowing there is so much pain and wrongdoing in this world. But I wonder, having tasted that deep sorrow, whether it does not mean that moments of joy are all the greater. I remember that feeling of having lost everything. I know that I cannot take these moments and these days for granted.

Yesterday, I felt it was the first time in several weeks that I actually stopped and seized hold of a beautiful moment. So often, my mind has been working through checklists and tasks even as I have been 'relaxing'. In the evenings, if not occupied with church activities or academic work, I have often been considering different teaching methods and reviewing our home education materials to ensure we are providing each child with the best opportunities to build upon their unique learning style. There has always been a list of tasks to work through. Probably there always will be.

But yesterday I felt a calm peace descending as the Lord gently reminded me of His sovereignty. There will be unexpected surprises and disappointments in life, and there will be times of trial and sorrow. There will be days of peace and stability, but also times of disquiet and turmoil. I cannot control these things, but He knows each of these days before it comes. Sometimes when I look at my young children, I find myself wondering what kind of world they will be adults in, what kind of trials and pressures they may face; but my job is not to worry about that - but rather to provide them with a solid foundation and worldview, to pray for them diligently and to teach them to critically appraise situations and arguments to reach a rational judgement.

I was thankful to be reminded of all that I have been blessed with, and to be reminded to open my eyes to the beauty and blessings that surround me.

I have not written much lately - there has not been much free time to write and reflect. The months seem to be passing quickly, and the children seem to be changing rapidly (in many good ways). I am reminded of the quote that 'the days are long but the years are short', and am thankful for the reminder to stop and be thankful for these busy days surrounded by noise, activity and laughter.

Highlights of the homeschooling year

I haven't written for a couple of weeks. A few friends in different places have been facing trials - bereavement and serious illness. I've been feeling far from home, wishing I could be closer to my friends and really stand with them, but at the same time am amazed at how our good and loving God provides so abundantly. I have been challenged by the contrast between those who 'do not grieve as those who have no hope' and those who have no hope whatsoever. It truly is the contrast between life and death, light and darkness, hope and hopelessness. Everything else seems trivial in comparison.

But of course, meanwhile time has been passing. We will finish our academic year in two weeks time, and I was excited to place the order for next year's materials. I need to write reports on the boys (I do this lightheartedly, but I find it a helpful exercise to stop and reflect on their development, on their strengths and weaknesses, on major achievements and accomplishments, and on areas which are more challenging and perhaps need a slightly different approach. As a Christian homeschooling parent, it is good to be able to include areas like spiritual growth and character formation alongside the more traditional subjects).

Last night I was reading a couple of old blog posts from homeeducationnovice.com. I looked back with a smile to the days when I had two toddlers and a baby, and when we spent many many hours walking in parks and learning about nature. At the time, it felt that we would be in that season of life forever, but as I read some of the posts, it seemed a long, long time ago. I read about some challenges I faced, and again, these seemed like distant memories, and I had to think, 'Oh yes, I do remember feeling that way'. So often, we are kept fully occupied dealing with the needs of each day, and that is not a bad thing. But I notice that I can forget to celebrate milestones and achievements, or simply to reflect on the things which make the homeschooling lifestyle so rewarding.

1) Reading. We have always spent hours every day reading aloud, and that was a major driver in us choosing a literature based curriculum. This continues to be highly enjoyable, but what has really taken off this year is the ability of my older boys (aged seven) to read independently. It is not just that they can read, but that they love to read, and can often be found hiding in a quiet corner with their noses in books. My older boy is forever surprising me with facts which he has read somewhere (this also warns me of the importance of only having things I am happy for them to read lying around! Thankfully we have been very intentional about our book collection). Another advantage of being able to read well is that they can read aloud to the younger children, and that brings a wonderful shared family time (and I can do something like cook dinner whilst this is going on).

2) Logical thought. Another major reason we chose to home educate was that we wanted our children to be able to critically appraise situations or evidence, and to reach a logical, balanced conclusion. This was something I felt was lacking in my own education, and seems to be even more lacking in mainstream UK education these days (although granted, there may be exceptions). I did not want them simply to be spoonfed and be able to regurgitate facts, but to be able to think. The balance of 'living books' chosen by Sonlight really helps foster this critical thinking, and the Science packages are great in that they encourage the children to form a hypothesis, then design experiments with a specific aim and method. I often find them puzzling things out in the garden or with their lego (or other toys), trying to design and work things out. I have really enjoyed watching this develop.

3) Vocal expression. I suppose this links with both language arts skills and logical thought, but I am impressed with the way my boys can explain what they like or want (or what they dislike) and explain why. My husband and I are never satisfied with 'Because I don't want to', or 'Because I don't like it' - we get them to explain why. It is just a gentle questioning that goes alongside every day life, and would not obviously seem to be an educational tool, but it helps them consider how to order their thoughts and make a compelling case for what they are saying. I like that as homeschooling parents we are always around our children, and so can gently reinforce lessons from earlier in the day or week, and we can consider practical illustrations which might complement an area they are struggling to comprehend. We sometimes plan 'stealth attacks' as described by the Brave Writer author. So, whilst we don't set homework, we don't have a clear demarcation between 'school time' and 'life time'. I love that.

4) Creativity. I have always enjoyed the way the children will act out stories they have listened to. It has often surprised me just how much they have taken in. As they get older, some of these games get more prolonged and elaborate. We are not quite a screen-free home - we occasionally take the children into the study and watch a programme (usually a documentary, rarely a film) on the computer, but this is not even a weekly activity. We see other children of similar ages who prefer to spend long periods of time on tablets and screens, and indeed whose parents think life and particularly travel would be impossible without these. I find that a little sad because there is so much more!

5) Freedom. Perhaps relating to the point above, I love that my boys have plenty of time to play, to create, to imagine, to be children. They are not ferried to endless extracurricular activities, nor are they stimulated with excessive screen time and 'entertainment'. This gives them time to play, learn and explore together. Through playing together, there are of course times when disagreements and squabbles arise; they need guidance in how to navigate these, and each is an opportunity to remind them of their memory verses and Biblical principles regarding how we should treat one another. It is easy to forget what an important aspect of education this is.

These are simply five areas where I rejoice in how homeschooling enables my children to develop not only academically, but more importantly, into people who can think logically, can apply truth into situations and can develop creative solutions to problems. What areas have been the highlights for you?

Sonlight: Review of Year 2/ Planning Year 3

Somehow, despite it being mid-February, we have reached week 29 of a 36 week curriculum. Actually, I understand why we are a little ahead of what we might have expected. You see, the whole reason we chose Sonlight was that it was a perfect match for our family. Even before we moved to having more structure, the backbone of our family life has been reading books together. Sonlight really embraces this as both a wonderful learning opportunity and also a time to build strong family relationships. And for us, if we have days where we are not reading together for several hours, something feels missing: the children can be restless, the parents are not quite sure what to do, and we'd all much prefer to settle down on the sofa and read. So, for that reason, we don't take many breaks. Even if we have a day or two off some of the 'table' subjects like maths and spelling, we find it can be very easy to catch up on these by the end of the week. So we just keep ticking over.

As I look ahead to the next year, I find it helpful to consider each subject in terms of what we have enjoyed most, what has been challenging, and whether we need to set any specific goals for the next year.

1) Bible. This year, we've been going through Leading Little Ones to God. Somebody gave me a copy of this years ago, and I was not so keen on it, but actually we've found it very helpful. The boys have a very good knowledge of the Bible and memory verses, but don't always understand the application of these verses. LLOTG has a very gentle, conversational style and discusses how the wonderful truths might apply to our lives. There is then a recommendation for a hymn and a prayer; we have rarely used the hymn in the book (we have known few of them) but I ask the boys to choose a song they think matches what they have learnt. I also have some copies of Christian Hymns - I am keen that whilst we are living in east Africa and singing in many languages, that they don't miss out on the rich heritage of hymns that is there. I love starting the day with a devotional time, and I pray this is a habit that goes with the boys as they grow (and my daughter - I tend to talk about 'the boys' since she is only 17 months old, and we aren't really focussing on her specific educational needs at the current time). I'm not sure what the Bible materials that go with Level C are, but I'd be equally happy to repeat this year, or go back over Ergermeier's storybook Bible from last year.

2) Language arts. My boys have been doing Grade 2 and Grade 3 language arts and readers. This is something I love about the Sonlight programme (I am sure it may be the case for other curricula too - I just haven't explored these). My older boys are both aged 7, but have quite different learning styles. One is quick to rush ahead (sometimes rushes a bit too much) but can write screeds and screeds of reasonable quality English, and is reading everything he can get his hands on, and reading fluently (for example, now he often wants to read the Bible passage at cell group, and does so perfectly). The other boy is making steady progress but really lacks in self-confidence. If he feels too much 'put on the spot', he gives a really silly answer, or writes a word completely incorrectly, almost as though he chooses not to try, so as not to fail. I came across this when I read John Holt's 'How Children Learn' a couple of years ago, and immediately recognised my son in what was described. Partly for this reason also, it is good to have him working at a different level to his brother; there is not a feeling of competition or of failure. An interesting thing is that they often are covering similar themes, since there is a spiral curriculum. So one can encourage and reinforce things for the other, and it's been interesting to hear the less confident boy remind his older brother what an adverb is, for example. I like the fact that the lessons are simple, but build on one another; I also love that as homeschooling parents, we know what they have covered and what they may have struggled with. So we can later on say something like, 'Describe how you ran across the sports field, using at least two adverbs' and they will often do it well. Or, 'Thank Daddy for dinner, but you can't use the same words you usually do', and encourage wider vocabulary. Often we write letters home, and we can sneakily bring in some of the themes. I particularly like Brave Writer too, since there is a very natural approach to writing (I love her concept of 'stealth attacks' - this is something that has worked well for us.) For both levels, the readers have been great; they don't just have increasingly complex language, but the stories are good too and the boys love them. They are hungry to read more. Next year, I'm just going to keep going - LA3 and LA4, and for the one who is about to turn five, he will probably start LA1 a couple of months in. We are using Explode the Code with the four year old, with which he has a love-hate relationship. But he is steadily learning. I've never been that convinced by phonics programmes - they seem to learn quite well just through reading.

3) Handwriting. We use Handwriting without Tears and the three boys are on three different levels. The younger one is very pleased to sit up with his own book and work alongside his brothers. We haven't encountered any particular challenges with handwriting, and generally find it a nice, user-friendly programme. So, next year, we will just continue also! (We have modified some of the letters slightly when it comes to cursive; we found some of the additional loops made it quite hard to read, and so we've made some of the letters a bit simpler, more like what both parents were taught. I think that's fine, so long as we are consistent).

4) Science. We are on Science B, but often flip back to some of the activities of Science A. All three boys have their scientific notebooks and enjoy having a hypothesis and then designing an experiment to test that. I am really quite impressed by the way scientific discipline is taught from a very young age; my school education seemed to be more about memorising facts, and it was only at University, or even as a postgraduate, that I really started to understand what hypothesis-driven research was. We are currently enjoying the story of Pasteur, and the way his enquiring mind is described has captivated the children. They also enjoy the Discover and Do DVDs - these can be great when it is really hot or stormy out, and they just need a bit of chill out time. They find them hilarious, but also are learning to question from them (especially my boy who is a bit less confident - he is really strong on science and figuring things out, and I can almost imagine him being an engineer!) We tend to supplement the science materials with other books we have to hand, or activities that come naturally. My husband and I are both medical doctors and I am a postdoctoral scientist as well, so I think we tend to have a natural inclination towards the scientific; but I am cautious not to be complacent in that, and to provide the children with the materials to learn and explore for themselves. We enjoyed the studies on nature and the different wildlife that is found in different parts of the world; because we've lived in a few different places, this captivated them. We also watch as many nature documentaries as we can get our hands on - the classical David Attenborough ones, but they have also loved Gordon Buchanan and his team who use a lot of complicated photography to explore unanswered enigmas.

5) Maths. We use Singapore Maths, and I particularly like the 'mastery' approach - to go deeper rather than faster. This is useful when I have two boys who are almost, but not perfectly in synch with one another. Sometimes one needs just a little bit longer, and rather than having the other rush ahead, I can get him to do some of the more challenging problems. Whereas in Language Arts, it has felt beneficial to separate them, it would feel wrong to do so for maths. The four year old is doing Level K, and again, likes to do his maths at the same time as his brothers do theirs. I try to bring in games where ever possible, particularly to help them memorise number facts (addition and subtraction, multiplication). Some are simple games using the flashcards, and others involve jumping around (which with boys is often necessary). Often I am surprised by the four year old chiming in with answers, quietly learning alongside his brothers. As with the other areas, we try and reinforce concepts as often as possible through daily life - for example, counting in the market, measurement when cooking and so forth. We've got a small bag with British money in it, so that they can be at least a bit familiar with the money 'from home'. I suppose being familiar with several currencies might be a strength, but that is one area which  is a bit confusing. We have our local currency, and other things here are done in US Dollars. The Singapore Maths we use is the US edition, so more dollars. Dollars and cents are OK, but I do get confused with nickels and dimes! For next year, we are just going to continue. If you use Sonlight, remember to get the 'extra practice' books (I forgot with my first order).

6) History, geography and world cultures. So, we are using Level B, and will progress to Level C. We like the structure a lot. I know many parents say this, but Sonlight really is 'the education I wish I had had'. They know so much more about the world than I did at their age (and even when much older). For us, having lived in several countries and having a very multi-cultural friendship group, it is great to learn about each of these cultures. We like to build upon what we are reading by cooking meals from different places and if we have friends from somewhere we have read about, asking them to tell us more. I've got a stack of missionary biographies aimed at children from about 8-12 (Trail Blazers) and we've been slipping these in at what seem to be appropriate places.

7) Spanish. We are using Rosetta Stone. I think the biggest challenge is scheduling. Most of the activities noted above take place between 8 and 11am, and then the children go out to play, the baby gets up and joins them, it's lunchtime and then we might be going somewhere in the afternoon. To come back in to do Spanish can feel burdensome (to the boys!). The younger seven year old, the one who is a bit less confident in some areas, is the most committed to language learning and has very good pronunciation. I hope to bring a bit more structure into this next year - maybe aiming for 2 lessons each per week or something. I  am aware that this is the age when they can learn languages far more easily, and so don't want to miss the opportunity. I'd like to get hold of some CDs to listen to, maybe some Spanish Christian music or something. I need to spend a little time searching.

8) Art. This goes in fits and starts. Around Christmas, we did plenty of art and craft, and there are other times where we make huge paintings, or some other complicated project. Then we will do nothing for a few weeks. We have the Artistic Pursuits book, but this year I forgot to order the consumables, and we can't get much out here. So, this year, I'll get the consumables and try and aim for at least a lesson a week - probably on a Friday, which is often quite a quiet day. It is interesting to see how the boys are all interested in art at different times - they will all go through phases when they can sit at the table for quite a long time drawing or colouring, whereas at other times they are not interested. A challenge in homeschooling is trying to keep that natural curiosity and rhythm - not to force them to do things, and so stamp enthusiasm out of them, but at the same time, to encourage practice and discipline. (I suppose I also need to remember that they are still quite young!)

9) Sports. We are blessed with a homeschool sports co-op which does a different sport each term. We've had swimming, athletics, field hockey, basketball and football. I like they way they are exposed to a range of sports, and also it's a great opportunity to meet other local home educators. In between that, we try to do a range of games (I love Homeschool Family Fitness for ideas) and ride bikes up and down the road outside when it is quiet. We usually walk 3-5 Km every day, and on Sunday mornings we all go for a run (except the toddler).

10) Read alouds. I nearly forgot one of the best things! Children learn so much from being read to, and the Sonlight team choose a really good selection of books that are often more than just nice stories - they often bring in elements of history, world cultures, character and so forth. It is really nice to be able to start reading and be fairly confident that I won't get any unexpected shocks or have to rapidly start editing as I read. We enjoyed all the Level B books. We added a few extras - some more Boxcar Children, revisiting Little House in the Big Woods and some of the following stories, a few Jungle Doctors, and as I already mentioned, quite a few biographies. I love that learning can be so natural and enjoyable, and I often find myself encouraged, inspired and uplifted as we read together, and that is important in this season of life where it can be busy, and I can feel a little drawn in many different directions.

So, all in all, it's been a good year, and we are particularly thankful for the way most of this just feels so very natural, just really building upon our family life. I love the way homeschooling does allow for flexibility - we had some sickness and went a bit slower for a week, we had swimming camp for three weeks, so covered two weeks of materials over that time, and at some point we might return to the UK for a month or two, and again the pace would change (oh, just think of the museums, art galleries, docks, parks, libraries, friends to catch up with...) I love the way there is space to add extra activities and books if we wish (without missing out on the benefits of the scheduled resources), and that we can tailor each subject to the needs of each child. There are times when I wonder whether my middle son would attract some kind of label if he was in a mainstream school; I don't think he has an educational challenge, but rather that it is some kind of confidence or personality issue. When he's relaxed he can do everything perfectly fine (spelling, maths, reading out loud etc), but when you put him on the spot, or he's in a funny mood, it can just be painful to get him to do anything, and he can get into a very negative spiral. With him, often giving him a high energy snack and sending him off to play for half an hour is enough to re-set him, and that wouldn't be possible in a classroom. I wonder how many children are given labels simply because they cannot conform to the structures of a classroom setting and working at the same rate and in the same style as 25 other children of their own age. (Actually I kind of know the answer to that, and I'm sure I'll write about it again).

There are no areas where I feel the curriculum is not matching. Occasionally we have had frustrated tears in maths, but that is more often to do with temperament - a child not listening, and then getting frustrated when he does something wrong (older seven year old), or seeing quite a number of questions, just panicking and thinking they can't do it (younger seven year old). I don't think it is a curriculum mismatch, but when this happens I try and bring in more games and supplementary activities to try and consolidate what they do know before moving on to the next topic. The other areas are all going very smoothly, and in general, I'm just going to order the next level up for next year. I also saw a workbook on logic or critical thinking which I think would go well, so will get that.

I remember when I started blogging four years ago, when we were just starting on the home education journey (and when we were facing quite a bit of opposition, as I believe many people do when they declare they are not going to follow the crowd). I really look back over those years with thankfulness. It has been wonderful to enjoy time with the children, to see each one grow and develop and to share rich time together as a family.

10 things I learnt through my daughter's life

Often I comment on how thankful I am for all that our daughter taught us through her life, illness and her death. Often I look back at that time as a real pivotal point in our lives, something which really crystallised our priorities and values and caused us to focus on what things mattered most. Back in 2012, I wrote a series of blog posts on what we learn through several different aspects of parenting (here, here, here and here). Today, I thought I'd write a short summary of the key things I learnt personally through my daughter. Here are 10 points:

1) Unconditional love. I had never really understood how God could love us irrespective of what we did or didn't do. I could not really understand how one person could love another truly without condition or expectation. But suddenly you hold a helpless baby who depends on you for absolutely everything. And whilst a lot of baby care involves cute cuddles, there are also jobs which are smelly, messy and tiring, and the child never once stops to thank you. Yet that does not diminish your love for the child in the slightest. I perhaps began to understand how we can't earn God's love, but that His love is perfect and absolute already. We can respond to it in worship with thankfulness, but that doesn't change the love itself. It truly is Amazing Grace!

2) The flip side of the above comment was that it made it even harder for me to understand the choices and actions of my parents towards me when I was a child. (I wrote a little about this recently here). I never felt good enough, never felt I could meet some kind of impossible standards, and figured that it must have been because I was unloveable (and indeed, those exact words were frequently spoken towards me). Having a child of my own made it even harder for me to understand how a parent could reject and abandon their own child. I know there are mitigating factors; illness, addiction, sin. But even so, it brought a fresh wave of grief.

3) Priorities in terms of achievements. I used to worry more about small things which ultimately had no lasting value. The Bible talks much of this. We are told that 'everything that does not come from faith is sin' Romans 14:23. We are taught 'do not worry about tomorrow for each day has enough trouble of its own' Matthew 6:34. There are places where were are reminded to build with materials that last, to make sure our treasure is in heaven (Matthew 6:19), and that unless God is central in our endeavours, they are basically worthless (Psalm 127). Whilst I knew all that, when we were suddenly facing a life or death situation, it crystallised for me just how worthless a lot of what we are tempted to run after really is. I remember shortly after her death, there was a minor setback at work. I had to laugh; previously it would have upset me quite a lot, but in the face of what we had just walked through it seemed utterly trivial. And looking back, it was indeed trivial. It is easy to obsess about a detail, or a target, deadline, goal or whatever - and think that if that is not achieved that the whole of the future seems dark. However that is rarely the case. I learnt the truth of 2 Corinthians 4:18 'what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.'

4) Priorities in terms of material things. I have never been one to particularly worry about clothes, hairstyles or the decor of my home. But simply by living in the culture in which I grew up, I did spend some time worrying about my appearance, my weight, the external impression which I might make on others. Also, perhaps as a consequence of some of the things I described in point number 2, I had struggled with anorexia through a lot of my teens and into my twenties. Somehow, when my daughter lay dying, it really did not matter if I was fat or thin, whether my hair was glossy or straggly, whether my clothes were fashionable or simply functional. It didn't matter then, and it hasn't really mattered since! It felt like a choice: to waste a lot of time worrying about things that really don't matter, or to look above and beyond those things. I am not talking about the lack of self-care that might come with depression, but rather a sense that there are things that are more important. The Bible teaches that too. The first letter of Peter instructs Christian women that 'Your beauty should not come from outward adornment such as elaborate hairstyles or the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit which is of great worth in God's sight. 1 Peter 3:2-4

5) That we have a choice to make, sometimes every day, to keep living to the glory of God. I clearly remember one day, whilst our daughter was still on the intensive care unit, going out of the hospital for a coffee. We walked past some very beautiful flowers - vibrant orange bird of paradise blossoms. The coffee was strong, bitter and delicious. The air was crisp and fresh. Every sensation seemed somehow heightened and I realised that life is full of beautiful details provided by God. We can choose to ignore these things, to focus entirely on our problem or situation, or we can choose to pause, look outside of our circumstances and find things to thank God for. A strong coffee was the trigger for a real change in mindset. I found (and still do find) that in the face of overwhelming emotion or a temptation to despair that it is really helpful to focus on something tangible and beautiful and to thank God for that thing.

6) We have a choice to keep walking by faith. After she died, I also felt there was a choice to make. It would have been fairly easy to fall into despair or self-pity, and indeed there were those around us who seemed to expect us to 'curse God and die' (in the discouraging words that Job's wife spoke to him). But I remember thinking that our daughter didn't have a choice, didn't have a chance to make that kind of decision. It made me realise what a privilege God had given us to keep living in the world, to keep serving Him for as many days as He has given us. That did not mean that it would always  be easy - in fact Paul wrote to Timothy that 'everybody who desires to live godly in Christ Jesus will suffer tribulation' 2 Timothy 3:12. We should expect times of pain, trial and confusion. But we have a choice to fix our mind on Jesus in these trials. Hebrews Chapters 11 and 12 are really helpful as they outline the 'heroes' of our faith, and remind us that they, and even more so, Christ Jesus, went before us and modelled for us a life of faith. I do not wish to negate the pain people may go through, or that there may be times when somebody suffers from clinical depression which requires medical help; however I think in our modern age we can struggle to distinguish between clinical depression and simple human grief and sadness. There are days when it can be hard to get out of bed. There can be floods of emotion. It can be difficult to eat or sleep. One friend encouraged me at this time - just keep doing what you know to be right, putting one foot in front of the other and doing the next thing, and one day the fog will lift. Simple words, but they proved true and I have used them to encourage others.

7) That God does not let us be tested beyond what we can bear 1 Cor 10:13. Sometimes, if I was to tell you ahead of time what trials you might face in the future, you might feel that you could not stand up under it. Believe me, I would have been just the same if you had spoken to me of her death. But when we were in the storm, God was very much in the midst of it with us. We knew that more clearly than ever before, and it was a real gift to have 'our faith, which is of greater worth than gold which perishes though refined by the fire' proven genuine. (1 Peter 1)

8) The value of every single life. We had a six week period when we knew that our daughter would be profoundly disabled, but there was a chance that she might live for a few years. All my human hopes and dreams for her had evaporated - she would never climb a mountain, she would never make friends or marry, she would never learn to play music and sing, she would never run barefoot along a beach at sunrise... And yet, her life was as God had ordained. I did not find this easy to accept. God provided a wonderful Christian neurologist who told us that we should try and see her as the child God had made her to be. God had created her body, soul and spirit. The body was broken, badly broken, but the spirit had not changed. I cannot express how much those words meant, and how God used one of His servants who was just in the right place. It has also given me a greater respect and compassion for parents of 'special needs' children, and perhaps some insight into some of their deeper (and at times, darker) feelings. I see this also as a gift.

9) The value of simple comments and conversations: In the example above, I do not think the neurologist really had an idea of how immensely helpful his words were. He just spoke from his godly worldview and his medical experience. It made me realise just how powerfully uplifting simple encouragements can be, and has encouraged me to seek to use my words wisely. The book of Proverbs is instructive as to the healing power of wise and gentle words, and yet the destruction that can be brought by foolish and unguarded use of the tongue. Every one of us can be used by God simply through wise and godly conversation.

10) The biggest one of all I have kept for last. It was extremely painful to have our daughter die. We would have done anything possible to stop it from happening. It made us think long and hard about the sacrifice God made for us, sending His Son to die willingly for people who at that time hated Him. Would I have chosen to have my daughter die? No way! And yet God was willing to go through that pain because of His love for us. Taking the bread and wine at communion has never been the same since - I feel utterly overwhelmed and humbled by what Christ did for me.

Each of these lessons has been a gift; I've seen God's love and grace more clearly. I've appreciated the truth of eternity, the power of faith and the importance of priorities. I feel that distracting superficiality has been stripped away, and the remaining days of life are focussed on serving Him. And I've learnt the value of generosity and kind words, and the impact this may have on others without us even realising it.

Nine years ago. Thanksgiving as we remember.

Tomorrow, my daughter would have been nine. Can I even say that though? Psalm 139 is clear: 'All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be'. It doesn't seem right to say 'would have been' or 'should have been' because that suggests that her life was ever meant to be any longer than it was. Maybe to rephrase, nine years ago tomorrow, we celebrated the birth of our first child.

I've written before about how grief changes with time. The most read post on this blog was a 'wish list' I wrote seven years after her death. I've reflected on the amazing hope we have of eternity, and how there are many precious lessons which we take with us into every day. Sometimes I consider specific aspects of grief, for example how fathers are sometimes forgotten when it comes to miscarriage or infant death.

Tonight, I simply wanted to stop and reflect. We were told that when we had children, 'nothing would ever be the same again'; this was absolutely true, but not in the way we expected! Our perspective changed entirely, and through the juxtaposition of absolute joy and almost unspeakable grief, we came to understand the love of God in a new way. When we remember that God sent His only Son into this world to die for sinners like us, willingly, it almost blows us away. We understood a little more of what that might have cost, and what an amazing gift of grace it was.

So, nine years later, do I have anything different to say than I might have done after one, two or five years? Much is similar, but perhaps I'd emphasise some things more now.

1) We long to hang onto every memory. When she was ill, she lost the ability even to cry. I remember one day, realising that I couldn't remember her own particular cry. I couldn't remember my daughter's voice. And I felt loss. We used to use a particular baby lotion that had a lovely smell. For a while we still had a small pot of it, but after time it lost its scent. It seemed silly to buy another (it was available in South Africa, but not where we were now living). And with time, I forgot that smell. It's the small things like that, that with time, these memories fade.

2) We love to hear about how her life challenged people. I've said that before, but perhaps this element grows stronger with time. It's quite easy for everybody to be emotional and 'challenged' around the time of a death or a funeral, but with time many people go back to their 'normal' lives. When I hear stories of how people were changed forever, that gives me real joy. Several years after she died, we heard testimony from a young man who became a Christian at her funeral. That man is now an elder at our church in the UK, and recently preached a sermon which included that testimony. To us, that is one of the most encouraging things - that through her illness and death, some people came to salvation. I hold onto a mental picture of her greeting us in heaven and showing us all the ways her life brought glory to God, introducing us to people who heard the gospel through her life. Of course we have no idea what heaven will be like, but I am sure that we will know everything about things that have brought God glory. And that will be simply amazing.

3) It still hurts. Grief does change with time. At first, you don't think you can get through a day without feeling it all day, every day. Then one day you laugh again. And another day, it is not your first thought in the morning. But even with time, there can come waves of grief - perhaps triggered by a sight, a sound, a smell, perhaps relating to the experience of a friend or relative, or perhaps utterly inexplicable. It can be strange to try and explain it to others, and it can feel quite isolating. There are other days when it almost feels as though it was all something that happened to somebody else in a different life. There doesn't seem to be any clear reason why we might feel so differently one day to the next.

4) Anniversaries are precious. They are landmarks where you can stop and reflects. Time moves fast, and life gets busy. It's helpful to stop, reflect, remember, and give thanks. Sometimes people don't want to upset us by letting us know they remember these, but believe me, it means a lot, and probably more so as the years go by.

5) We would never have changed things for a minute. We are thankful for the gift that she was, are thankful that she is now rejoicing in heaven, are thankful that we could see God's goodness and grace through her life, are thankful that others heard the truth of the gospel, are thankful that God showed us where our priorities should lie, are thankful for the valuable lessons we learnt regarding what is most important for our other children. We see her whole life as a wonderful gift.

6) We still like to talk about her! I don't think that will ever change.

Simplifying childhood and natural learning

Sometimes, especially during hot afternoons, I love watching my children play. Our garden has several palm trees which regularly provide us with large, flat pieces of wood and long thin leaves which are perfect for weaving. I am amazed by the variety of different adventures the boys have with these. They have built yurts in Siberia, rafts to float down the Nile, tee-pees and Masai warrior shelters, great ships and tiny canoes. They each have a square blanket (which are actually Masai blankets) that are transformed into all kinds of different outfits, are used as parts of tents or as sails. One is currently in use as a hammock. Often the adventures they embark upon have been influenced by something we have recently read - and the Sonlight curriculum we follow is rich in 'living books' - true to life stories of people who actually lived in an era together with a selection of inspiring biographies. It is good to stop and watch them growing, learning, exploring and developing. Sometimes I feel that they haven't listened 'well' to a particular story or lesson, only to see them acting it out later on (often a week or two later); this is something I have been noticing with the boys for quite a few years, but which I often forget. It is too easy to look for instant 'results' or measurable attainments and lose sight of the bigger picture (at least it is with my kind of goal-directed, problem solving, systematic approach to situations!)

But it does sometimes require taking a step back! We need to provide them with enough space and time for this creativity to develop. We need to allow them to work at a challenge and find a solution. It is quite impressive to watch the visuo-spatial skills of my seven year olds, as they work out the best way to hoist a sail using a home-made pulley slung over a branch on the avocado tree. They have figured out quite a lot about what makes a structure stable and rainproof. The develop ingenious ways of lashing pieces of wood together using palm leaves. It can be very tempting as a parent to watch them working at something and want to jump in, show them what they should do, and launch into a mini-lecture, embracing this as a 'teachable moment'. There may be a time and place for that, but there is also a place in creative play where the parent's role is to step back. Charlotte Mason wrote quite a bit about that - a kind of watchful attention, but giving the children freedom and space.

I had to laugh when reading this article about how we 'protect' our children to the point of depriving them of physical exercise, exposure to nature and many extremely valuable opportunities. It made me laugh because, sadly, this is something we see so often, and I was quite relieved to hear this voice of reason. Our neighbours really worry about having our children play with sticks, and completely miss the fact that they are building and being constructive with these and rarely have even a minor injury. Back home, I remember being astonished on a snowy Saturday when we were alone in our local park, but being told that it was too cold for children to play (it was above zero!). Whenever we return to developed countries, we are often shocked at the rising rates of childhood obesity and how few children seem to play outside. Parents seem to utterly miss the point that by protecting their children from perceived harms now is storing up for them a whole raft of future harms, in terms of their health but also their emotional and psychological (and one might argue even spiritual) development.

Giving the children the space and time they need for creativity, perhaps especially outdoor creativity, also takes an intentional choice in terms of schedule. We are slightly protected from this where we are currently living, but there is an increasing tendency to fill every spare moment with some kind of 'extracurricular' activity. Sports, music, dancing, choir, drama, structured field trips with other children, the list could go on. I've read some very interesting articles on this topic lately. For example, this one describes how the behaviours identified among children who are overstimulated with too much 'stuff' and too much exposure to excessive stimulation and entertainment can actually resemble that of children who have been exposed to real trauma; the children become restless, unsettled, anxious and unable to concentrate. It makes a lot of sense. I have friends back home who seem to have whole rooms overflowing with brightly coloured plastic toys, and yet the children never seem to play with any one thing. Some parents see this as an indication that the children are 'bored' with what they have and need more, but in fact the opposite is likely to be true. I see that in my own children; in how they can be perfectly fulfilled with pieced of wood and leaves and the time and space to really play. Some other suggestions on how you could simplify and unclutter your life are here. Sometimes, as an expatriate living overseas, one can hear a little voice of untruth, telling us that our children are missing out on some of the things they would have at home; however, I need to see the lack of exposure to 'stuff' as an advantage, not something to lament.

Homeschooling provides the perfect way to step off the treadmill of constant activity, but even here there can be a temptation to 'achieve' and to 'give your child every opportunity'. There can also be a temptation to feel the need to 'prove ourselves' academically to those who are unsupportive of our choices. On that note, I was very encouraged to read this article describing an American college Professor's impression of homeschooled students. That particular blog contains links to other studies providing clear data that homeschooled children excel in their early years at college and are more capable of independent, enquiring learning. (There are also some hints as to areas that we might need to work a little on - note taking and timed assignments under 'exam' conditions as the children get towards college age, for example). This didn't really surprise me. When I went to University to study medicine in a different country to where I had attended secondary school, I was quite shocked by students who had apparently 'excelled' in secondary school but who seemed to really struggle with the materials we encountered in first year. I came to appreciate that some of those who had been to the more prestigious secondary schools had been taught how to pass the relevant examinations, rather than having really been taught how to learn. Homeschooling takes that to a different level: we actively encourage our students to pursue their areas of curiosity and to find answers and solutions to their questions from the earliest years; I can fully see how this would prepare them better for life-long learning, and indeed it is maintaining and building upon that natural love of learning which was a major factor motivating us to homeschool in the first place.

Often I read blogs of women (as it is usually the women who write on this topic, not because the dads don't feel the same too!) who remind us that these early years, although intense and at times exhausting, are actually blissful days with unique opportunities that will not come again. I had a recent conversation in the canteen at work about the merits of putting primary school and pre-school aged children into boarding schools; it was quite shocking to hear some of the arguments. Some people are very keen to push their children out of the door, and then lament about the fact they don't know or understand their adolescent. Again, I was thankful for the choices that we have made, and that although tiring, we can enjoy this time with our family. This was reinforced when we found some old short videos made at the time when I had three children aged under three. It feels like yesterday, and yet when I look at them now, I realise just how much they have grown and changed, and how we probably won't play some of those games again.

I have friends in different places of the world who are going through real trial at the moment. Bereavement, illness, separation from loved ones because of visa issues, political instability, discouragement. And as I pray for my friends, I take time to thank God for the simple blessings in day to day life.