Earth is crammed with heaven

Just a little post tonight. Do you ever feel judged? Misunderstood? Lacking somehow? As if no matter what you do it's never enough? Me too. You know God NEVER sees us that way. Grace says we are enough because He is. Don't let the enemy steal our joy.

We've been away for a few days. We stayed in a lovely hotel. We stay there quite a lot as a family member works there. And the best thing about staying in a hotel? Free stuff! I love it all! The teeny bottles of toiletries that probably belong in the value aisle. The pen, the tea and coffee, the biscuits and the slippers... And of course the buffet breakfast. You know, the one where you tell the children to eat as much as they possibly can as you're not buying lunch. In line with my 40 days of feasting I decided I would enjoy what was offered, but not stockpile stuff so they'd replace it... Or is that just me? So it's been a lovely few days. This hotel also has a Leisure Club. Every day the boys wanted to go down and make the most of the facilities. Now I love swimming. In the old days (before children), I used to swim three times a week. But now it often feels like too much effort. And the whole getting wet business.... On one of the days I se...

I don't cry at films. Ever. I told someone rather smugly once that "I saved my tears for real life." Big mistake. She'd been referring to 'Titanic'. She then told everyone that I only had compassion for things that affected me.... Lesson learned. So anyway I've seen Les Mis three times. The first time was with two close friends. One blubbed, the other didn't (and she's a real cryer). Nothing from yours truly. The second time was with Mum and my hubby. Mum started crying at 'Empty chairs at empty tables' It was only to be expected as she lives with Dad's empty chair every day. I held her hand. I got goosebumps at the end. But no tears. The third time was today. Chris and I went again. It was kind of a test I suppose. I'd decided to blog about not crying at Les Mis anyway. I smiled to myself when Corsette sang about her castle on a cloud where tears were not allowed. I had song lyrics like 'All cried out...

It's the first day of Lent today. That will be why I cooked 37 pancakes last night. Yes just for the 5 of us, Ryan & Nathan were having a competition. I had the obligatory thoughts about what, if anything, I should give up... Chocolate, cakes, biscuits, the usual suspects. But after a chat with someone this morning I've decided to arrive at Easter by a different route this year. Instead of giving up something I enjoy ie. chocolate, Why don't I give up thinking that I have to put myself through it? Why don't I give up using words such as ought, and should, and their opposites? Why don't I give up feeling guilty about things I don't need to? Why don't I give up viewing chocolate as something that should be forbidden because I'm overweight? Why don't I start making time to read what I really want to read? To be quiet when I have nothing to say? To pray when I want to speak to the one who loves me best of all? To rest when I need ...

Today I took the Five Minute Friday challenge  from Lisa-Jo Baker: Got five minutes? Let’s write. Let’s write in shades of real and brave and unscripted. Let’s just write and not worry if it’s just right or not. 1. Write for 5 minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word. 2. Link back here and invite others to join in. 3. Go buck wild with encouragement for the five minuter who linked up before you. Won’t you give me your best five minutes for the prompt: Bare Bare 'The king is in the altogether, the altogether, the altogether He's altogether as naked as the day that he was born' It's one of those songs I've always remembered. It's from the film, 'The Emperor's new clothes' (Hans Christian Anderson) The morals are clear: Deception. Thinking yourself better than you are. Being so big for your boots that you can be made a fool of. But that's naked. Bare is something different. Bare is about everything being strip...

I love a new notebook. Especially when it's pink and has butterflies. I also love the fact that I get to write in it with my pink fountain pen which I thought I'd lost. It feels special because it's ink and not biro. It gives the writing some gravitas somehow. I remembered today that Mum and Dad bought me this pen when I graduated in 2009. I'd forgotten the significance of it. It brought a moment of grief when I remembered. But Dad liked a nice pen too; especially a fountain pen.  Dad had recently had a stroke. He was happy inside but couldn't show it in his face!   I love the written word. I love to write To read To hold a pen To turn the pages of a book. Technology is great, but sometimes it's good to get back to basics. In our faith too.... As I start this note book I'm filled with Hope Joy Anticipation And somehow a sense of well being. A bit OTT I know, but it's a bit like the start of a new term; When you...