Wigley Pick and Mix

Since my last post on sleep, life has been pretty busy and sleep quality still lacking so getting focussed to write has not been easy. But amidst the ‘busy,’ I have been reflecting back on my conversation with Catrina Benham on her podcast REAL Conversations.

If you’ve read my previous blog posts you can’t help but notice that my Christian faith is rather important to me. My intention when I started to write was to reflect on all sorts of topics including but not exclusively faith based. And that’s still my intention, but the fact is, my relationship with God is so integral to who I am that it can’t help but be integral to my writing too.

Catrina’s podcast is a great listen with input from a wide variety of amazing women. To be asked to be involved was a great privilege. The conversations cover a wide range of topics but always ends with three statements to complete, one of which is, ‘Being a woman of faith means…’

You can listen to the podcast to hear how I replied but I’ve subsequently been reflecting on how deep and wide that question is and how much more I could have said. I started to write this post as a series of bullet points outlining what being a woman of faith means to me. However as I’ve pondered the question these past few weeks I’ve come to the conclusion that my thoughts are summed up by this verse from the Bible.

Fear is a clever foe that can pervade and undermine so many parts of our lives, holding us back from living life with confidence and being the amazing creations God has made us to be. Fear can provoke timidity and retreat but it can also show its face with aggression and domination. Fear can get its hooks into us in a number of ways:

• Fear of failure and not being good enough
• Fear of being unable to provide for our families
• Fear of not being unable to protect those we love
• Fear of an unknown future
• Fear of chronic illness or dying

And the two big ones which I think try to catch out everyone whether we acknowledge it or not…

• Fear of what others might be thinking about us
• Fear that we are missing out in some way

Do any of these resonate with you?

At various times most of these fears have at some point tried (and sometimes succeeeded) to trap me. Fear of failure, combined with fear of what others might think of me, are most likely to snare me. My mental health history and vulnerability is something I’d really rather not have to live with, not only because I think it might cause me to fail at my endeavours, but also because if I have even the slightest wobble I worry what others might think. I worry that I won’t be seen as credible and that people will think less of me. Living with these sort of fears have at times stopped me stepping out and living up to my potential.

I’m guessing that if you can identify with anything on my fear list you’ll also identify with the fact that the fear and worry don’t change anything for the positive, if anything they can make the problem worse. I am so thankful for the truth declared in The Bible that through my relationship with God I can trade in that spirit of fear for a spirit of POWER, LOVE and SELF DISCIPLINE. It’s the combination of these three characteristics that allow us to lay down fear.

The word ‘power’ often has quite negative connotations, probably because of the prevalence of the abuse of power. But, when it is combined with love and self discipline, the power bestowed by God has the potential to be positively transformative, for individuals, families, communities, churches and even countries.

Self discipline is such an important characteristic in providing us with protection against the things that we fear. But on its own self discipline can be a harsh tool that we can wield to admonish and beat ourselves up. It’s also something that many of us struggle to maintain. When self discipline is combined with love – both of ourselves and of others – it can be more wisely applied and with far great motivation. And self discipline wrapped in love and empowered by the Holy Spirit has a far greater chance of success.

Even love on its own isn’t enough to replace our fears. Many a domestic abuse victim loves their abuser and yet lives in constant fear. For many the emotion of love is seen as being weak and the province of soppy Valentine cards. Love without self discipline can result in affairs and broken hearts, or can leave us burnt out from giving what we no longer have in us.

The love Paul writes about to Timothy is from the Holy Spirit and is full of power and self discipline. John, the disciple referred to in The Bible as the one whom Jesus loved, also writes the following :

It’s a powerful love; fierce and deep like a mother protecting her child. Such love empowers us to fight for justice and protect the weak. It’s a love that empowers us to stand up and speak out but in a tone that resonates grace. It’s also a love that says that we ourselves have great worth and as such should be taken care of and treated with respect by others and also by ourselves. It’s a love that forgives and releases others and allows us to accept forgiveness and be released.

We live in a world where there is potentially much to be fearful of, some of it very genuine but much of it stoked by media and marketing. Social media in particular seems to fuel a culture of fear. This past eighteen months I’ve found many occasions when it has been helpful to check myself and ask the question – am I responding to this situation from a place of fear and timidity?

When I lay down fear and call on God to fill me with his spirit of power, love and self discipline then things change and opportunities open up. I can speak up on issues that I feel passionate about with confidence and grace rather than defensiveness or fear of what those who disagree with me might think. I can weigh up risks and live adventurously. And if I’m really brave and trust in my Heavenly Father then I can stop fearing myself. In the spirit of power, love and self discipline I can live with the fact that I a woman with hormone cycles and who feels a full range of emotions and sometimes expresses them – and that’s okay, in fact it’s more than okay, they are part of the wonderful creation God made me to be.

Did you sleep well last night? It’s been a bit hot so I’m guessing perhaps not. How does that make you feel the next day? Do you cope well on less than eight hours quality sleep or does everyone around you have to give you a wide berth if you’ve had a rough night.

We are very privileged to own a motorhome. It was a big splash out investment pre pandemic which sadly hasn’t been used ‘on the road,’ as much as we would have liked due to the travel restrictions of the past year. It has however proved a great asset as a place of escape for my husband to study or to get some sleep during the day when working night shifts.

Getting undisturbed sleep feels like a real luxury in our house. We have a three year old and a two year old and although Isaac has fairly consistently slept through since about 16 months his younger brother Toby often still needs resettling at least once a night and sometimes more if he’s having what I assume are nightmares.

During half term we took our motorhome away for a week in the Cotswolds. The boys have bunk beds at the back and Mike and I have a bed that lowers from the ceiling. We try and stick to bedtime routines as much as possible because staying up late on holiday just doesn’t work for us. It doesn’t work for us because no matter how late the boys go to bed they still wake up early and if they don’t get enough sleep we have grumpy kids and that results in grumpy parents too.

When I say the kids wake early – I mean really early. A 6am start is fairly normal for us but in the motorhome it can easily be 5am. Toby stirs and probably at home would cry out and go back to sleep but in a different place calls out for mummy or daddy. As quickly as I leap out of my bed and get to him he’s already woken himself up completely and his brother and so that’s that – the day has begun!

There are advantages to being up so early – often you can witness a beautiful sunrise and listen to the wonderful bird song without the other noises of the day intruding. You can also get in the campsite showers before it gets busy or get your washing done and hung out before you go out for the day.

But it’s also just a tad exhausting especially if we’ve been up in the night too. Motorhome holidays although great fun are not restful. Even back home I crave a good nights sleep and even more a decent lie in. I woke up at 6.10am yesterday morning and neither child stirred until 6.50am. And that felt like a luxury!!

I’ve always been someone who needs my sleep and my lymph glands soon flare up and ache if I’ve got too overtired. Grumpy mummy (and teary wife) is also more likely to make an appearance when I’ve had a run of bad nights. However I’ve also discovered once again that I’m more resilient than I sometimes give myself credit for.

Cancer treatment was incredibly sleep disrupting with high doses of steroids each cycle. Pregnancy caused nightmares in my first and second trimester and huge discomfort in my third – they try to tell you it’s just preparing you for lack of sleep when the baby comes but I think it’s a design flaw – surely being well rested would be much better preparation. Then two little ones born fifteen months apart mean that even when they do both sleep through, I don’t, because there’s a part of me on alert waiting to respond to their cry.

Often when I’m awake in the night I talk to God – I pray. Sometimes I’m sure I talk absolute nonsense to Him because I really am only half awake. Other times though, it’s a precious moment to ask God to come close to and give sleep to others that I know might also be awake in the night; looking after babies, facing illness, or knowing the pain of bereavement. Sometimes I’m thanking God for the day just gone and sometimes asking Him to be with me when the sun comes up, giving me the energy and patience I’ll need in the face of tiredness. Sometimes I’m thanking him for the beautiful child I’m settling back to sleep and sometimes I’m pleading with Him to get my child to sleep for me as I’m so desperate to get back to bed.

And my God who never ever needs to sleep hears my every word, comprehensible or not, and cherishes the fact that in my sleeplessness I’ve chatted with Him.

“I lift up my eyes to the mountains— where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip— he who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord watches over you— the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all harm— he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭121:1-8‬ ‭NIV

It feels like a very long time since I slept really well. And yet I’m doing okay! Yes I might have some days when I’m far from the happy smiley person I’d like to be because I am so very tired but I still get my boys up, dressed and fed and do the same for myself. We still go out for an ‘adventure’ each day or I get them to nursery and myself to work. The food shop gets done, meals get served to the dinner table and we have clean clothes to wear. Although I sometimes feel vulnerable I haven’t had a mental health crash or had to take medication for my mental health for nine years.

I’ll always need to accept that I need a decent amount of sleep to function well. And frustrating as it is to me, I suspect my mental well-being will always be more vulnerable if I don’t care for myself and get too overtired. But having said that I am definitely capable of far more than I would have ever thought possible in the past.

I’m still going to keep reminding God though of one of His promises.

“In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for foodr to eat— for he grants sleep to those he loves.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭127:2‬ ‭NIV‬‬

I was hugely privileged last week to be asked to be on Catrina Benham’s podcast REAL Conversations, where she chats with women about life and faith. One of the regular opening questions is ‘What’s New?’ I realised that much of what’s new in my life tends to revolve around my boys, for example what’s new on CBeebies! It was great though to also talk about this blog and the fact I had started writing again.

I’ve been writing this blog now for a couple of months. I’ve been pleased to discover I have things I want to write about and it’s been satisfying to find that people have enjoyed reading my thoughts. But talking about it to Catrina has prompted me to think again about why I am ‘blogging’.

People write blogs for all sorts of reasons but they generally tend to have a theme. Some blogs are on a specific subject that the writer has an interest, for example nature, model building, parenting, spirituality or sci-fi. Some blogs are connected to specific causes like the environment, or gender inequality, or social injustice. Some blogs are connected to brands and products, either written by the owner of the brand to sell their product or by others reviewing and comparing things their readers might shop for.

I’m not sure my blog fits neatly into any of these categories. I don’t have a specific theme or cause and I’m not trying to sell a product or service . I’m simply exploring in writing various things that have been rumbling round in my head. However, I could do that quite privately; instead I’ve chosen to make my written thoughts public and I’ve been pondering why I would do that. What do I hope for when I share my words with you?

We live in an age of social media where your worth can be measured in the number of ‘likes’ you get for the picture or statement you’ve posted. I have an exercise app where I can record my physical activity and others can follow, comment and ‘like’ what I have achieved. Reality TV, Instagram, TikTok and YouTube ‘Influencers’ see people sharing their lives in the hope of gaining a following.

My blog account has a stats page that tells me how many people have read a post, where in the world they live, and how they reached the site (via Facebook, Instagram, Search Engine etc). It can be easy to get sucked into that, going beyond finding the statistics interesting and instead looking to those numbers to tell me that my thoughts and therefore myself has worth.

If I try and find my worth through how many people read my blog or what they have to say about it then I’m going to struggle. Either my following is going to be pretty low which could dent my confidence or if I’m privileged to build a larger following I’m inevitably going to find, even if I get plenty of positive feedback, that there will still be some people who disagree with me, criticise my thoughts or even attack me. And the nature of being human is that however many supportive comments we get we still become hungry for more if that’s the source of our self esteem.

As you will be aware, if you’ve read any of my previous blog posts, my faith in Jesus plays a big part in my life. When it comes to measuring your worth and firming up your self esteem believing in Jesus is a game changer. You may find that puzzling if your previous encounters with Christianity were ones that just emphasised what you were doing wrong in your life, setting moral standards that seem to high to be realistic. And if that has been your experience of Christianity so far then I can only apologise. I apologise because you’ve not been told the full story – the story that says yes humans muck up big time (just look at the news and you can’t deny the truth of that) BUT God loves us still anyway. He loves us so much, he thinks we are the best thing he ever created and so does his son Jesus. To prove that fact Jesus came to live as a human on earth to teach us the best way to live and love. He also demonstrated us just how much he loves us by dealing with all the stuff we do wrong by dying for us. Yes he’d like us to live better and love better but even if we don’t he loves us inside out still anyway.

It defies logic really but what it means is that if I fully embrace that fact my worth comes from knowing I am known and loved by the creator of the universe just as I am. So I don’t have to find my worth by how many social media ‘likes’ I get or how many people read my blog or respond to it. And if I can practice what I’ve just been preaching then that is incredibly freeing.

With all that in mind why do I write and share my life and thoughts?

Firstly I need to be honest – it’s therapeutic- it helps me to order the thoughts floating chaotically around in my mind. By shaping those thoughts into sentences, paragraphs and an overarching narrative capable of being read and understood by others it helps me to clarify for myself what I think about various subjects.

Secondly I write and share my life and thoughts because I have a hope that what I write may prompt your thoughts. Maybe what I write may inspire you to explore or do something new or clarify something you were already pondering about. I write because it might cause you to say – I totally get where you’re coming from, that’s exactly where I’m at. Or maybe you’ll say – that is really interesting because it’s so different from me. I write because if you already know Jesus something I’m exploring may encourage you in your relationship with him. And if you don’t maybe some of what I write may make you curious about finding out more.

And with that I want to thank you for reading and subscribing to my blog. Although my aim is to find by worth in what God thinks of me and not by how many people read my blog I still feel privileged and blessed that you are taking the time to read my words.

Ps – please like and share this blog post 😜

A few years back Mike and I went on a big adventure. We’d planned on sharing our experience by doing a talk at our church and the local sailing club but somehow the busyness of life got in the way and then babies arrived and we never did it. So I thought I might tell you a little about it here and maybe it may inspire you to go on an adventure of your own!

Mike was turning 50 and we wanted to mark it in a special way. I’d got through the cancer treatment and we were starting to contemplate the possibility of having children and so we decided if we were going to go on a big adventure now was the time to do it. We started ‘googling’ adventure and trekking holidays and sharing ideas about what inspired us and we decided we really wanted to do an African Safari.

We quickly discovered that most safaris are either horribly expensive and / or involve spending a lot of time traveling in vehicles which we really didn’t fancy. But then we stumbled on the concept of a canoe safari and found ourselves getting in touch with a brilliant company called River Horse Safaris that operate on the Zambezi river. An independent company they provide safaris to other travel companies as well as direct to independent adventurers and they are very much connected in with their local community.

We booked a seven day, six night, trip that would take us by canoe from Chirundu down the Zambezi river 163km to near the border with Mozambique. We would camp each night on islands in the middle of the river or a couple of times on the main banks. We planned our trip to go well into the dry season as that brings all the wildlife and birds to the river to drink.

We flew out to Lusaka, the capital of Zambia, a 14 hour flight via Dubai and spent our first night in a large hotel before being picked up by our transfer taxi the next morning. Enroute to the river our driver took us to various roadside shops to buy seeds and fertiliser as we’d arranged with River Horse to visit a local school that they support. We’d asked what we could help with and had brought out lots of colouring pencils, pens and other stationery with us but the school also grow crops in order to feed the children that attend the school and kind friends from church had given us money to buy the farming supplies once we arrived in the country.

The primary school serves the young children from the nearby villages, providing them with an early education before they come of an age where they have to legally attend the government run schools. The school not only provide an education but also food and clothes and a place of safety. Many of the older children still turn up each day to continue to receive those added benefits. The day we visited the Headmaster was away on a training course but his wife kindly received our gifts and introduced us to their children.

• 

• 

• 

• 

When we booked the trip we expected to be part of a larger group and wondered about who we would meet on our journey. However when we arrived at ‘base camp’ we discovered that we were the only people who had booked this particular trip and as a result we found ourselves being treated to a ‘private safari’ under the care of the company’s most experienced guide – TK.

Mike and I shared a large canoe sitting front and back on top of our mattresses. The tents for the three of us and our personal kit went inbetween. TK canoed solo with all the rest of the kit including camp table, stools, cooking equipment, and food and drink for seven days.

• 

• 

• 

A typical day on the river starts at 5.30am as the sun comes up. We packed up the tents and our gear while TK made a fire and boiled some water for tea and biscuits. We then loaded the boats and made sure we’ve left no sign of our presence before picking up our paddles and making some headway on the water while the day is still a little cooler.

• 

About 9.30am we’d pull up and go exploring the bank while TK prepared breakfast. We were surprised to discover breakfast meant a cooked feast of sausages, bacon, beans, tomatoes and toast and of course more tea! When I say exploring – this often meant going for what became known as a ‘paddle walk’… You take your paddle for a walk, you use it to dig a hole, you do what needs doing and then cover up the hole with your paddle and return!

• 

• 

• 

• 

Another hour or two on the water and the sun is high in the sky – time to stop for a light lunch and a rest in a shady spot out of the heat of the day. We weren’t always as good at resting as we should have been if there were some good wildlife spots to be had!

• 

• 

• 

A couple more hours of paddling and with the sun starting to get lower in the sky TK would pick a place to stop for the night. We’d help unload the boats and then go for a quick walk with TK exploring our rest stop and witnessing stunning sunsets before setting up our tents for the night. While TK cooked our evening meal we would have a bucket wash in the dark and get straight into our PJs for a firelight supper. The meals TK produced were absolutely superb and the stars that God produced to accompany the meal were incredible.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

We generally hit our mattresses by 8.30pm sleeping in tents that were essentially mosquito nets so we could see the night sky. We did sleep well but you could still wake to the sound of lions roaring in the distance or an elephant investigating the camp. One night when exiting my tent in the night for a ‘paddle walk’ my torch shone in the water and set a pod of hippos off grunting in disgust at our canoes blocking their exit from the river. Another night when camping on the main bank we were advised to bring in our shoes as hyenas were known to be in the area and like to steal them!

Everyday we would be so privileged to get close up to elephants, hippos, baboons, kudu, impala, water buck, crocodile, and so many different birds. We sadly didn’t get many good photos of the hippos as when close enough for a good snap you needed to be focussed on your paddling – a large bull hippo rising out of the water is a heart thumping experience. TK was brilliant at sharing his knowledge of the wildlife and getting us as close as possible whilst keeping us safe.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

We were also privileged to spend time getting to know TK as we chatted over meals or rafted our canoes together and drifted together on sections of the river learning to enjoy some chill out time with the phrase ‘polepole’ – take it easy! We talked about what brought him to work as a safari guide and his ambitions for his children including his then twelve year old daughter who wanted to be a doctor and the obstacles that would need to be overcome to achieve that goal. We heard about the politics of Zambia and neighbouring Zimbabwe and the disparity between rich and poor. As we travelled several hours back to Lusaka by open jeep from rural Zambia and back into the city much of what TK described could be seen very clearly.

• 

• 

• 

• 

Having travelled all the way to Zambia we also really wanted to visit Victoria Falls so took an internal flight to Livingstone the nearest town. We spent three days there exploring the town and checking out the falls. When the river is in full flood the falls are reportedly just immense with the spray filling the sky and the sound deafening – one of the local names translates as ‘The Smoke That Thunders’. But as we were there at low water we were able to view the incredible geology of the area and we were able to swim with a guide in a pool at the top of the falls.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Even at low water the rapids below the falls are quite something to behold and for some reason we decided that we’d end our Zambezi adventure on a rafting excursion, We climbed down into the gorge and swam under the falls before paddling through a series of grade 3 – 5 rapids under the helmsmanship of Captain Potato (yes Potato was his real name!). It has to be one of the most frightening and exhilarating things we have ever done!

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Although you could definitely call our trip a ‘once in a lifetime’ adventure we’d absolutely love to go back and make it ‘twice in a lifetime!’ I’d love to see the river and the falls after the rains and see the dry barren landscape turned green again. I’d love to meet TK again and find out if his daughter still wants to be a doctor or if his son is still determined to follow his father’s footsteps. I’d love to take my boys to see elephants, warthogs and baboons up close in their natural environment. I’d love to get a decent picture of a hippo and hear their chuckles once more. And I often feel the call to a be somewhere completely different from home. Mike feels the same and so he has started a ‘Zambia fund,’ saving for the day when we feel the boys are old enough for us to take them and show them all that we keep telling them about.

I’ve been given cause to reflect once again this week how blessed I am to be a mum of two cheeky and bouncy little boys. I might at times feel quite frazzled and frustrated at how all consuming they can be but the fact is they are, both of them, amazing miracle gifts from God.

• 

• 

• 

• 

Children are a gift that I am so very aware not everyone is privileged to receive and sometimes I feel a little reluctant to share my blessing too ‘loudly’ because of how it might make someone else feel who has not been blessed in that way. I remember that pain. If that’s you and you’d rather not read this post I get that completely.

Having children was far from a given for me. In my teens I wasn’t particularly enamoured with the idea of having kids and it certainly wasn’t high on the agenda when I got married aged 21. But as I got older that changed, whether it was biology or social pressures or genuine maternal instincts, a developing desire to have and raise children emerged.

Sadly, or maybe in fact fortunately, in my first marriage children didn’t happen and I reached a point where I really felt it was for the best – struggling with mental health problems I believed I would have been a really bad mum anyway.

In my thirties and in a new much happier relationship I was gradually getting my head round the fact that maybe children could be part of my life. The big big question remained though, could I really be any good as a mum? Added to that Mike is older than me and has grown up children so for him to ‘start again’ would be a massive commitment. As much as a strong pull to have kids was there I really wasn’t convinced it was a good idea.

And then at age 35 came the cancer diagnosis…

In the whirlwind of diagnosis and starting treatment (it was just two and half weeks from going to see my GP to being in surgery!) there was the meeting with the oncologist who lays out the treatment plan and the possible side effects. Along with nausea, sickness, loss of taste, hair loss, sore throat, finger and toe nails coming off, constipation and so much more the bombshell of early menopause gets chucked in there. But at this point you’re aware you’re effectively entering a fight for your life so you kind of just nod you’ve understood and move on.

I guess I felt that drew a line under the question of whether I should have children or not. It simply wasn’t a valid question anymore. I wouldn’t be having children and it was time to move on.

Except I didn’t – the absence of children kept on niggling. Through the treatment and the recovery the pain of that line being drawn just wouldn’t heal.

And then my periods returned – more regular than they’d ever been before. Now that didn’t mean my fertility hadn’t been damaged beyond repair but it was a promising sign. The question of could I, and should we, try and see if having a child together was possible just kept cropping up. We talked it through with the oncologist as it would mean stopping a long term preventative medicine and made a plan for a few months later to ‘give it a go’.

A few Sundays later in church the Bible reading and preach was from the book of Joel – it was a passage someone had spoken over me at a time in my twenties when life was pretty tough. It’s a promise of hope given to the Israelites who have seen their homeland invaded by a foreign army described as a destructive plague of locusts. Part of the passage says this:

“I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten— the great locust and the young locust, the other locusts and the locust swarm — my great army that I sent among you. You will have plenty to eat, until you are full, and you will praise the name of the Lord your God, who has worked wonders for you; never again will my people be shamed. Then you will know that I am in Israel, that I am the Lord your God, and that there is no other; never again will my people be shamed.” Joel‬ ‭2:25-27‬ ‭NIV‬‬

I had a powerful sense that God was saying, “I’ve already come good on this promise to repay the years the locusts have eaten – you’re in a new, happy stable marriage, you’re living in a supportive community on the Isle of Wight, your mental health is so much more stable and you’re making a good recovery from an aggressive cancer. But there’s still more – you will have a child”.

I wasn’t sure I was hearing this right and maybe it was just wishful thinking so we went to see some wise Christian friends of ours who listened and prayed and told us that they felt God was saying ‘Be Expectant’.

I fell pregnant really quickly but by week 10 I had a miscarriage and there’s another whole post I could write about that experience! Trying to remain expectant after a traumatic false start was not easy but just when I thought it wasn’t going to happen I fell pregnant again.

This time I had a successful pregnancy. Isaac was born in January 2018 and then the God of abundance blessed us with Toby at the end of April 2019, just a few weeks before my 40th birthday.

• 

• 

They are two amazing little boys – full of life, curiosity and adventure. They are continually pushing boundaries as they grow and develop their characters; sometimes to our joy as they achieve something new, and sometimes to our frustration when they keep doing something we’ve told them not to do! Isaac is now three years old and Toby approaches two and we are seeing them starting to play together more and enjoy each other’s company – the hard work of having two born close together is starting to bear fruit. We pray that they will always be good friends as well as brothers.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Those of you who know me will know that I don’t always find being a mum an easy thing. Parenthood can be really hard work, physically, emotionally and mentally exhausting. I’ve always felt that resilience was an area of my life in which I was significantly lacking but I’ve discovered I’ve got more of it than I thought! Despite the fact that there are many moments of great fun and joy with the boys I still at times would love to have 24 hours ‘off duty’.

It’s when I’m feeling a bit fed up, it’s important to stop and remember how very privileged I am to have these two little people in my life. Belonging to an online support group for younger women with breast cancer I am so aware that my privilege is not the experience of so many women who have been through the same treatment as I have. I also have friends who have been unable to have children for other reasons and they carry a sorrow because of it.

As such I will continue to remind myself just how blessed I am. Isaac and Toby are miracles to be celebrated and cherished; when we’re chasing each other round willow mazes, when I’m up in the night for the fourth time because one or both are not sleeping well, when they are squabbling or even when they are giggling their hearts out and I’m suffering the indignity of not being able to get up off the floor while they pin me down and blow wet raspberries on my bare skin!

• 

• 

*** spoiler alert *** This blog gives away the ending or at least hints to what might happen in several stories!!

Have you seen ‘Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’? It was a Chinese film released in 2000 starring Jet Li. There were a few similar films made around that time. They were beautifully made and directed with clever story lines and twists and from a cinematic perspective stunning. The martial arts are just that art! But I’ve only watched them twice – once at the cinema and once at home on DVD and then I decided no more… Why because the endings are always so tragic. I am not going to give two hours or so of my life to end up feeling sad and sobbing.

My step son lent me a book once called The Knife of Never Letting Go. It was a really clever book and the concept behind it very thought provoking. Some of it was emotionally quite shocking but I persevered as I really wanted to know what was going to happen. Now admittedly I was in the middle of chemo at the time so emotionally probably a tad vulnerable but boy was I unprepared for how it ended – it was not good at all – all hope for the lead character was absolutely crushed.

And do you remember the year the Christmas episode Downton Abbey saw Mary’s young husband Matthew having survived the First World War and Spanish flu, die in a car crash? Why why why would you do that to us – and on Christmas Day too?!!

No – I want my stories to have a happy ending. Even if it’s a tough journey getting there it needs to end up right in the end – hope must be fulfilled and preferably shines on to an even brighter future.

And I think that’s what I find so hard about, ‘The News’ whether at local, national or international level. So much of it is so soul destroying, highlighting the worst of humanity and often leaves me feeling so despondent. Is positive proactive long lasting change actually possible??

As I read the words of the Psalmist, ‘what is man that you are mindful of him?’ I have to ask that question too? God why on earth do you bother with us let alone love us and give this world to us to care for? That’s why when I stumble across or I’m pointed towards a real life good news story that bucks that trend of hopelessness it fills me with joy and I just want to share it.

Last night Mike and I enjoyed an online magic show by a guy called Rod Williams. As well as entertaining us with very clever magic tricks he also shared some of his life story of how at seventeen he started down a road of wild teenage parties that eventually led to drug dealing, smuggling, gambling debts and heroin addition. His life was in ruins and he ended up in prison. He then went on to explain how from that place of hopelessness he turned his life around, how he has put his addictions behind him, works with people in debt, is married and has an adopted daughter, he’s even been approved as a foster carer. Rod has also started a charity working in prisons helping to show others how their lives can be so incredibly different too.

It’s so encouraging to hear that someone who we could write off from society can turn their life around – change is possible!!But a key part of Rod’s life story is that the turn around of his life was made possible by another incredible story – the story of Easter.

This week all around the world Christians are remembering and reading and reflecting on what happened to Jesus nearly 2000 years ago. It’s actually a tough story to take on board if you allow yourself to really sink into it – chocolate and bunny rabbits don’t feature at all.

Jesus has been preaching and teaching for three years, he’s regularly upsetting the local politicians and religious leaders of his day as he calls them out on issues of social justice and religious hypocrisy. He’s seen as a trouble maker by the authorities yet loved by the local population for his integrity, kindness and generosity. But he really starts to cause trouble for himself when it becomes clear that he claims his authority to speak out and to heal people not only comes from God but that he is God’s son and the Messiah that has long been foretold.

In the last twenty four hours of his life Jesus is sold out by one of his inner circle, deserted by those closest to him who run away in fear, was set up on false charges, severely tortured and finally crucified on a cross beside two criminals – a hugely cruel form of capital punishment. The Messiah, the one who was supposed to save the Israelites from oppression and foreign tyranny is dead. He’s buried in a tomb with a gigantic rock rolled across the entrance just to make sure we know the door has closed to any hope of a happy ending.

And that is where Andrew Lloyd Webber would have us believe the story ends if you’ve ever watched Jesus Christ Superstar. It’s not a story to really thrill you is it? It’s not a story that would give you the inspiration and hope to turn your around is it? Good Friday doesn’t seem very good does it?

That’s because the story doesn’t finish there. On Easter Sunday some women who had been close to Jesus approach the tomb and find that the hope destroying rock has been moved away from the entrance. And so begins a series of eye witness accounts to an empty tomb, grave clothes left behind and physical encounters with a Jesus no longer dead but very much alive and well.

What is going on? There’s some deep theology here and well worth exploring in far more depth – if you have more questions definitely consider doing an Alpha course. But in essence Jesus died so we don’t have to. He died despite having never done anything wrong so that we who are always messing up at some level or another can be forgiven by God and be in a relationship with the perfect creator of the universe who loves us and esteems us more completely than anyone else. Jesus came back to life again to prove that Evil and Death are defeatable – they never have to be given the last word!

It is the power and the reality of that Easter story that changed Rod’s life. He discovered that truth through reading stories of other people’s lives that had been changed by an encounter with Jesus and then deciding to give God a chance for himself. The same love that took Jesus to the grave and power that raised Jesus from the dead became available to Rod to enable his journey towards healing, hope and transformation.

What’s even more encouraging is that Rod’s life changing encounter with Jesus isn’t a one off – check out these stories…!

My Story – Adam. https://youtu.be/tslkAogs_Zo

Burnley’s Pastor Mike – from dangerous drug dealer to lifesaver – BBC News – https://www.bbc.com/news/stories-55273677

Run Baby Run by Nicky Cruz sold by Amazon and other retailers.

REAL Conversations podcast by Catrina Benham with Emma Heath, her story of hope from addiction to recovery. https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/real-conversations-podcast/id1522040407?i=1000493206820

These stories of how a relationship with Jesus has made such a dramatic difference in people’s lives are so important to me because they give me hope. These stories give me hope that situations I see around me that seem so impossible and sad could actually change. They give me hope that positive proactive long lasting change is actually possible whether at an international level or in my local community, systematic injustices or individual desperation. It gives me encouragement I need to pray and call on God to bring about that change.

And for myself I’m reminded that God loves me unconditionally too. He considers a relationship with me worth fighting for and no situation I find myself in is beyond His power and grace. The reality and truth of the Easter story has the power to change my life and the power to change yours too. And that’s a pretty good news happy ending story I must say.

Four years ago Mike and I went on an amazing adventure – we canoed for 163km down the Zambezi river wild camping for six nights on the banks and encountering an array of amazing animals who depend on the river during the dry season. Having gone all the way to Zambia we felt it would be daft to not then spend a few days at Victoria Falls and somehow ended up on a raft under the falls tackling grade 5 rapids under the helmsmanship of Captain Potato. Yes – that was his name Potato… His parents had looked at the shape of his head when he was born and called him Potato.

When we were deciding on names for our boys there were three things that were important to me – firstly that we both of us liked the name, secondly that they wouldn’t feel silly at school being called it by the teacher (they’ve already got a surname that could cause them trouble) and thirdly what the name meant. There were a few names that we liked the sound of but when I looked up the meaning were either lacking in character or we just plain didn’t like.

It might seem a little silly to be pedantic about what the name means but in some cultures it’s really important – it’s setting out an expectation, a declaration or a promise for that child. I was reminded in a sermon the other week about the importantance the Bible places on names and how their meanings give the owner a direction and purpose and define their character.

In the Jewish and Christian scriptures the impact of a name was taken so seriously that it was as not uncommon for someone to take on a new name to symbolise a change in their life or a promise made to them. For example

• Abram (meaning exalted father) becomes Abraham (father of many nations)
• Sarai (meaning princess) becomes Sarah (meaning my princess)
• Jacob (meaning supplanter or usurper) becomes Israel (meaning one who wrestles with God)
• Naomi (meaning pleasant) renames herself Mara (meaning bitter) because she is so distraught at what has happened to her.
• Simon is renamed Peter by Jesus to symbolise he will be the rock on which the church is built
• Saul (meaning questioner) becomes Paul (meaning small and humble)

So my eldest is Isaac which means laughter and reminds me that in the Bible Sarah laughed with disbelief when she heard that God was promising her a child and she laughs with joy when that promise was fulfilled. I pray that Isaacs life may be filled with laughter and joy and seeing Gods promises fulfilled however impossible they might be. Toby means simply that God is Good; it reminds me how very good God has been to bless me with not one but two amazing boys when for several different reasons the prospect of having kids was off the table. I pray that Toby may have many many reasons to declare for himself that God is Good.

They’ve also got middle names; Isaacs is John which means ‘Yahweh has been gracious‘ which also fits perfectly and happens to be the name of both his Grandads. And Toby’s is Peter which means Rock and was the name that Jesus gave to Simon, one of his disciples saying that he would be the rock on which he built his church. Peter also happens to be the name of a great uncle on both sides so good family name too!

My middle name is after my mum – it’s Joy. I’ve had cause to reflect several times and it’s come home to me powerfully again recently that having joy as my middle name should not just be a family nod but something that I should embrace as defining me.

You must have heard the phrase, ‘xxxx is my middle name,’ when someone wants to claim that they are passionate about something. Or the notion that if you cut through someone you’d see something running through them like the words running through the middle of a stick of rock.

What if people could look at me and the way I live my life and could say to each other, “you know Katie Wigley, Joy is her middle name” or you know Katie – if you cut her in half you’d find Joy running all the way through her. I don’t mean that I’d be happy happy happy all the time – that’s just not realistic. But that somehow a deeper sense of peace and contentment in all circumstances would shine through; that the knowledge that I am deeply loved by the God who created the universe would impact the way I respond to life events; that the hope I find in Jesus would bubble out in how I live my life, that I would find and declare joy in the small and great wonders of this world that are all around us in nature and in people.

This doesn’t feel like much like me though. As someone who has suffered with depression and anxiety quite badly in the past I feel I have a predisposition towards the negative rather than joy being at my centre. But Joy is my middle name and I would love to own it and live it. On days when I’m feeling grumpy and down I’m going to take to try and take to heart the proclamation of Nehemiah who said to the Israelites, “Don’t be dejected and sad for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”

In the past fortnight I’ve found my thoughts wandering a lot around my place in the world as a woman and the discrimination that women face just because they are born female. There was International Women’s Day, Mother’s Day and the massive outcry about violence against women raised by the murder of Sarah Everard. I also happen to be listening to a few different podcasts recently where gender inequality and women in leadership, particularly in faith settings, has been a hot topic.

To be truthful I’ve found some of what I am reading and listening to a little jarring and I’ve been trying to work out why. I think in part it’s because I feel that some of the rhetoric that is used to supposedly promote women’s issues actually place us so so firmly in the camp of victims that it actually, unintentionally even more disempowering.

There are a number of issues in relation to what I’m seeing and hearing about ‘gender inequality,’ that I’m mulling over in my mind. I feel I want to explore and write about them but for some reason I’m struggling to articulate those thoughts here in the written word. Written words can be flung into the world so easily now a days through social media and mediums such as this. However I believe that the written word can be so powerful for good and ill that if I’m going to write on such an emotive and for some painful subject I want my words to be useful and constructive and add value to the debate and that is not always an easy task. And so for the moment I’ll keep talking and asking questions and listening and mulling.

Having said all that one thing that has shone clearly in my mind these past few days is that although gender inequalities have played more of a role in my life than I had first thought I’ve also been privileged to live beyond those obstacles that could have held me back as a person of female gender.

I was raised by parents who were both church ministers in a denomination where women have been allowed to be ministers since its inception in 1865. My mum has been and continues to be a preacher and pastor and I grew up with that being normal. My dad died when I was just coming up 20 but I don’t remember him ever discouraging me not to do something because I was a girl – I clearly remember climbing up cliffs on holiday to find signs telling us we shouldn’t have been there and chatting about how the gospels came into being when I couldn’t have been much older than ten.

As a young teen I played Rugby with the boys at school and at a club. I played in the brass band at my local Salvation Army church and in the Yorkshire Divisional Youth Band. I studied Maths and Physics at A- Level. All of these things were male dominated and yes my friend Emma and I had to push to be allowed to play Rugby at school but in none of the other areas despite the gender imbalance of numbers was I given any impression that as a woman I was unwelcome or deficient.

At The University of Sheffield I studied for a BA in Biblical Studies under a number of male and female Drs and Professors whose interests and research was wide ranging. Some had strong faith and some were evangelical atheists. One of the modules I took was led by Professor Cheryl Exum on the topic of ‘The Bible and Gender’. As a nineteen year old christian woman it was a shocking and challenging course as I was presented with views on how the Bible portrays women that I had never considered. And maybe more importantly how the Bible has been interpreted and presented to portray women through history. To this day I still can’t agree with some of what I was being taught but it was an invaluable eye opener to a topic that has advanced much further in thinking over the past twenty years.

After Uni I worked for a few years in the civil service as a PA and was privileges during my time there to work for three ‘high flying’ women. They were all quite different in style and personality but each incredibly gifted. It was so educational to work closely with them, support them to do their jobs well and also be given regular opportunities to contribute my own thoughts to policy development and ministerial papers. And I’ve gone on to work in a number of different contexts with talented gifted people of both genders.

I studied for my Masters in Pastoral Theology at a Jesuit College which you might be forgiven for thinking was not a great place for a woman to be, but it was an amazing spiritual place to be. The course encouraged a conversation between reality of people’s life experiences, the Bible and the Churches wisdom of the ages; exploring what God has to say through all three into our current situations, a conversation so incredibly important as we reflect on the place of women in our churches, our communities, our workplaces, our families and our world.

As I write I’ve felt so burdened that I don’t want to come across naive about the realities of discrimination the women have and still face; or ignore the horrific violence and oppression experience by women in far too many counties that is considered the norm. Some of the statistic of sexual assault and domestic violence that have been appearing in the news this week for our own country are sobering.

I’m also aware that on a much lesser scale I’ve not been immune – reflecting back on my own life has highlighted more areas of discrimination than I was aware of. I’m currently wrestling with the reality that decent part time jobs that pay well and use my brain and experience and fit with childcare are hard to come by!!

But I also wanted to reflect and celebrate all the opportunities I’ve been given to live beyond those things that could have held me back as a woman and I thank God there have been many. I’m thankful that I have a husband who wants to support me to be the best that I can be and a church that not only has some amazing women in its leadership team but is also publicly speaking up and into issues of discrimination across the board.

As I continue to listen, reflect and explore these issues with others I pray that God will guide me as to where I need to repent, speak and act to show his universal unconditional love for all He has created.