Rest. ("Hobgate")

Many a bad decision has been made in an over tired state. We become more vulnerable, more prone to lose out temper or speak carelessly, or harshly, when we have over exerted ourselves.

God gave us safety gauges to avoid derailments or crashes. Like points on a railway track, we can easily divert into sidings, to rest and repair before any damage is done.

The first gauge is His Word.

Our creator knew better than any that His masterpiece needed both purpose, activity and rest. From the beginning, He modelled that to us, creating for 6 days and resting on the 7th. Whether you take those to be literal days, or representative of a period of time, the principal still stands.

It was later placed into Mosaic Law, for mankind needed to be made to down tools or they would work themselves or each other to the bone. The 7th day was to be set aside as special; a day to reflect, regroup, refresh.

God punctuated the Hebrew year with Festivals that included days of rest, celebrations to honour Him and to enjoy the fruit of man's toil and God's blessing.

His lessons surround us with another gauge, Creation.

We have living, breathing examples, reminders, of the need to respond to the changing seasons with industry and rest, each in their proper moment. While growth is prolific during summer months, even the trees and animals know when to quit their work and sleep.

Another safety gauge are the family and friends around us;

those who know us better than ourselves. Many a time I have had to be told to stop and rest, because the face they see and I can't, looks more exhausted than my fast ticking brain will slow to acknowledge.

Sadly, the most reliable gauge is more softly spoken and easily ignored. His is the Gentleman's voice in the room, Who quietly, gently whispers to stop.

He is The Holy Spirit.

Oh what troubles we would spare ourselves, and others, if we would only stop, listen and obey.

I've always detested laziness, though I'm not immune to it, along with its close relation, procrastination. But such was my dislike of this 'sin', I was blinded to the sin of my refusing to stop; to respect the needs of my body, mind and emotions. The truth was, I was scared of stillness. And I had another problem. I viewed myself more like Christ's donkey, a beast of burden, than a child of the King.

With those weaknesses, I have all too often steamed hard past the safety gauges He lovingly set along the track, until, invariably, I'd bust a part, or crash.

Two examples spring to mind.

In the May of 2018 as our youngest child was coming up to a year old and life was in full steam ahead, I became really sick with a virus very similar in nature to that of the CoronaVirus.

I'd had pneumonia before, more than once, and I recognised the symptoms and got myself to the doctor. I was correct. An urgent Xray revealed double pneumonia. The antibiotics didn't work and suffering as I do from chronic asthma, I was in real trouble. I couldnt stand for more that a few minutes without such debilitating shortness of breath and coughing fits. More, stronger antibiotics were prescribed, steroids and a concerned GP said that if I wasnt improved in 48hrs, then I'd have to be admitted to hospital.

Precisely 2 days later, I was.

On the ward I was put on IV antibiotics and nebuliser treatments. The elderly woman in the bed beside me had dementia and screamed through the night, obscenities and obuse to her saintly nurses and doctors. When I coughed, she yelled at me to "shurrup!"

In all honesty, I laughed at the absurdity of it.

I had little sleep, but was still slightly improved by morning.

The Xrays showed my lungs were almost cleared and it was asthma that was the problem. I was desperate to get home to celebrate my daughter's birthday, and told the doctor's what I knew they'd want to hear and was discharged, with piles of meds and orders to REST.

The following day, as I cooked and prepared for a family gathering to celebrate our girl, my mum observed my furious coughing fit and frowned. She knew my asthma better than anyone, having nursed me with it as a child. Her elder brother had died from it as a young man. "Don't you think you should still be in hospital?" she asked knowingly.

And so it went on, or rather I did.

A few days later, a little improved, I decided to undertake a trip into town to take Deborah to the optician. She had a long standing appt and it was important it was kept as her eyesight was deteriorating rapidly.

But the still small voice was cautioning. So did my husband- and we argued.

I took Barnabas, one of my grown up offspring, to lend a hand. That was the only sensible thing I did! A short walk took us from our parking space to the appointment and moments before reaching there I bumped into the doctor who had cared for me in hospital. She frowned. "You'll end up back in hospital!" she warned.

How right she was, but not for the asthma.

Abe was sat in his pushchair and Tabitha was looking at the rows of designer frames on display and asking a dozen questions a minute. For once, I wasn't quick to respond as I was suddenly very weary. I went to sit down when suddenly, my right knee completely dislocated and thrust outwards to the side. I'm a 'quiet sufferer', but in the shock and agony, I screamed. LOUD! To my added horror, staff suddenly streamed from every door, with panicked faces as I stood shaking and going into shock.

Well, there was such kindness .Two of my daughter's in love dropped everything and raced to my side. Barnabas walked the little ones. A lovely clerk bought ice packs and pain relief.

My step dad brought his car around after finding Dean in a meeting. They managed to get me to the car, where to my horror, in front of the whole street, it dislocated again.

I returned home from A&E late that day with a huge cast and crutches, torn ligaments and unknown damage. There was no 'soldiering on' this time! I was forced to sit with my leg up for a long time, which included our wee boy's first birthday. It really hurt to watch from the side lines, but that's where I remained, for quite some time.

Older children took turns caring for our youngest two, and I'd often find myself alone and crying a lot, but they were healing, surrendering tears.

My knee healed over time, with a little physiotherapy. There were issues in my heart however that required a lot more attention than a fortnight's couch time could fix.

"Hobgate"

Some months later, Dean and I had faced one of the biggest upsets of our lives. A disappointment. We'd faced plenty of those before, but this was a massive faith step, that had been waited on, prophesied over, weighed. It appeared to have failed spectacularly. I'd learned over the years to forgive myself for failings, to not keep reminding Father of matters He had already wiped clean, but this one was eating me up. I didn't mind mistakes when I understood where we had gone wrong, but as we looked back, we could not see where we'd missed it. At that point, though, with financial death knells booming, it was hard to see how we could have got it right. (Though that's another story!)

Dean was frustrated, but in truth, I felt heartbroken. I was physically run down again and emotionally drained. This was a hard season!

On a warm Friday evening in May, 2019, Dean and I walked the beautiful, ancient streets of uphill Lincoln, called The Bailgate. We held hands and 'unpacked" the situation. He was doing well with the situation we were in, but I knew I was not.

The following day, I awoke feeling like I was made of glass. I was brittle, fragile and sad.

To make matters worse, one of our teenage daughter's had been upsetting everybody in the house. She had just sat her GCSE's, and we thought had coped well for someone with a very low stress threshold. In the busyness of life, I'd not stopped to think she might be bottling up and was ready to blow! She and I were on a collision course.

All day, I'd heard the Holy Spirit calling me to "step aside"..to "come away and rest". What a wonderful invitation. How is it possible to receive such an invitation from the Lord of all the earth and respond with, "In a minute?" I'd like to go back in time and slap myself. "WAKE UP, WOMAN! HE'S TRYING TO HELP YOU!"

(I share myself with you, dear reader, my failings and dumb moments, not to make you feel better about yours! I share in the hope I can help those who would, learn and do better than I did!)

"I'll rest after lunch."I decided.

After lunch, John, our son, arrived with his wife Rebecca and their two babies. John and Dean were absorbed in a happy chat outside, which they both needed, I reasoned, and Rebecca, exhausted from the sleep deprivation that comes to us all with a new baby, had dozed off on the sofa. My heart went out to her. I wanted to be a good mum in law and support, a good Grandma and play with little Ezra. I ignored the inner 'pull of my arm' to "come away".

Soon I was peeling an army load of potatoes, while watching the tots, when an argument erupted with our stressed out girl, over a stinky attitude when asked to help a little.

We were not only 'not at our best', but were, infact, both at our worst.

Two trains, each ignoring their safety gauges, collided. BOOM!

She became hysterical and instead of calming her down, I blew up. Bizarrely, I continued to peel those potatoes, inflicting my rage on their poor skins and chopping them furiously with my knife, pausing to yell something. Dean had tried to intervene, while I kept turning from the sink to shout some more. In a rage, I took the heavy pan of spuds and plonked them down hard on the hob. The trouble was, the stainless steel hob which we'd had for years and could have handled the pressure, had just been replaced by a ceramic one.

Dean gasped and I spun back to see I'd smashed it to pieces.

Our girl had slipped out quietly, shocked into a tactful silence.

I was distraught.

In my mind, a huge 'F' for FAIL, was just stamped on my forehead.

I needed to be alone, away from children coming in one after another and gasping in shock and awe at the mess mummy had made.

I grabbed the car keys, slipped out the door and drove. After some country road meanderings, I parked up in a quiet place by a river and thought about jumping in.

It wasn't so much the hob, though that was a concern as we couldn't afford a new one. It was the fact that I'd let everyone down and the realisation that I'd ignored Holy Spirit all day, Who had wanted to spare me all that. I had bottled up all the pain, refused to rest and derailed.

Dean called. He was full of grace and love. I knew I had to get home quickly and look my family in the eye and say sorry.

It wasn't a disaster. Tears and apologies flowed. True, life changing repentance, happened. My daughter and I grew closer and both of us learned some lessons.

A couple of days later, as I healed in that beautiful way we feel when a storm has passed, I felt I needed to be 'out there' with this story. I detest cover up as it only allows things to grow in dark corners. I won't expose other's, but for myself, I've learned the power in confession (and the devastation caused by family secrets). So I photographed the hob and put it on facebook, along with the story.

The response surprised me, as did the private messages that followed.

For some reason, people assumed this sort of thing didn't happen in our house. That I had, as a mother of 13 children, some secret recipe or had drunk from a vial of superpower cordial.

Yes, my cape was indeed in the wash that day.

Well, yes and no.

I mean, my intent wasn't and isn't to make everyone feel good about their sucky days!

Yes, there is a commarardry amongst mums and it's SO important to be real.....but..I'm not going to say sin is ok. However understandable, however many mitigating circumstances that can engender sympathy, wrong is wrong.

These earth bound bodies made of clay, are pinned to this spinning earth by gravity. We know we are born to die. And I'm ever so grateful that God meets us right where we are, but what, or rather, WHO is in us, for the Holy Spirit filled believer, calls us higher.

Supernatural, just means "Above Natural".

Jesus lived above His circumstances, not under them. And He is in us to enable us to do the same.

So, if the moment of temptation is unavoidable,we can call to Him for help, wisdom, strength, faith, patience..whatever it is we need, and He supplies it, to overcome, by grace.

Or, it may be that He seeks to care for us for a while, in a 'siding', to be refreshed, restored; to rest.

Matthew 11;28

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."

#EmmaBell #BigFamilies #TheBells #ClimbeveryMountain #Faithjourney #Aretheyallyours