Letter to... the sower

Today I am linking up with Sabrina and Ruth with their “letters to…” prompt. They have been studying the parables of the Bible and decided to incorporate this into their weekly link up.

This week - a letter to the sower... The parable can be found here in Matthew 13.

 

Dear Youngest Son

Today you helped your Grandad in the greenhouse and although it wasn’t your favourite way to spend the time I hope you will one day look back fondly on your afternoon.

As I stepped in, taking your place when you got bored, I remembered a time in the garden so very long ago when your Grandad entrusted me with my own patch of ground. 

I was younger than you are now and working towards a badge for Brownies. It may have been a passing phase for me too, I can’t remember my interest lasting more than one season, but recently I’ve come to love the garden more and more. 

You appreciate things in a different way as you get older, one day perhaps you will understand.

Watching plants grow is amazing, especially when you know you have played a part in the nurturing.

Digging the soil, sowing seeds in a row and a splashing down water from the watering-can. Simple really.

Some plants grow regardless, weeds spring up out of nowhere, how dare they grow so fast and strong? Holding back the green shoots you have planted.

You have to take care to pull them out, not easy when their roots run deep and you have left the garden untended for too long.

And sometimes the things you plant just don’t grow. Wrong type of soil, too wet, slugs, birds or you just neglect to water them and take the proper care. 

But seeing something sprout that you have planted and watching it flourish against the odds is so satisfying.

A few years ago I planted something that looked no more than a stick but it has grown into a magnificent sweet smelling honeysuckle and every year it flowers it brings a smile to my face.

Youngest son, I don’t expect you to understand all these things now – the things your hold dear and "grow" are so different, like collecting diamonds in a virtual mineshaft. You were so upset when they were wiped out, like a gardener whose entire crop has been devoured. There was nothing I could do or say to comfort you.

Whatever you decide to “sow” and nurture in your life I hope it produces good fruit. That at the end of the day you can rest and watch in wonder as it grows.

Just as I watch you.

Mum x

To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow - Audrey Hepburn

A Mother's Last Word - #NaPoWriMo day 1

Today I stumbled upon #NaPoWriMo - National Poem Writing Month!

I doubt I will see this through to the end, I'm far better at starting things than finishing them but I followed the link to the Mslexia website and came up with this writing exercise...

1. A title page

Read the contents page from one of your favourite poetry books.  Without rereading the associated poems, select the five titles appeal to you the most and note them down on a clean sheet of paper. Now 'edit' them in some way to make them your own – by changing a gender, noun or adjective. (Don't worry, there's no copyright on titles.)  Choose one and write a poem to go with it.

I found my copy of Men and Women by Robert Browning which I had studied for A level and played around with a few titles.

I ended up changing the title A Woman's Last Word to A Mother's Last Word and wrote this, also inspired by the fact youngest son is off on a school trip to Spain this weekend... I might just print out a copy and pop it in his suitcase!

A Mother's Last Word

Be careful when you cross the street

Please be kind to all you meet

Enjoy new things, laugh, have fun

Put on your hat, when in the sun

Practice Spanish every day

I'll miss you son, while you're away

Remember that I love you lots

And every day, please change your SOCKS!

Musketeer Madness and Finding a Hero

Over the last few weeks I have been captivated by the new BBC One drama the Musketeers. I have been swept up in the adventure and romantic tales. And I’ve fallen in love with the scenery, the storytelling and…. who am I trying to kid I fallen in love with the Musketeers – all of them, it took me a few weeks to figure out my absolute favourite but I’m not telling you here!

my current laptop desktop pic :-)

I also love it because it’s something we can watch together as a family. Often programmes are just a bit too rude or adult for youngest son, or too dull for oldest son to watch.

Oldest son has even lost interest in Dr Who and never even bothered watching Atlantis with us (or Merlin underwater as I renamed it – although the plots never seem to be set by the sea – didn’t Patrick Duffy have flippers and gills when he lived there or does my memory just stretch back a bit too far – I hope someone out there is keeping up with me!) 

We do watch Sherlock all together but I am sure much of that goes over both their heads. I found the wedding episode hilarious; they looked at me bemused. But with only three episodes in a row it’s over almost as soon as it’s begun.

The Musketeers has been on for ten glorious weeks – it’s the last one tomorrow and then what shall we do?

Youngest son does groan when there’s a lovey dovey scene and pulls a blanket over his head as he snuggles in beside me in his PJs ready for bed, his action makes me smile but he sits up again fully engaged in watching the fight scenes. Oldest son meanwhile has commandeered the other sofa and usually the remotes are stuffed behind a cushion nearby. “Turn it up a bit!” I call across the coffee table not wanting to miss a thing.

I just sometimes wish it wasn’t on quite so late on a Sunday evening when it’s school the next day but then again I do delight every Monday morning in discussing every detail with my best friend when we are out for our Monday morning walk.

There are scenes I can recite line by line which make me smile and some which have touched my heart.

“Anyone can tell a woman she is beautiful,” states Aramis, “But making her believe it is where the genius lies.”

Oh so true – I’m not sure I’ve ever truly believed than one – well maybe once but it seems like a dream it was so long ago.

And then there was Porthos falling in love with the beautiful widow Alice Clerbeaux , “A year is a long time without a kiss.” He says tenderly.

I melted, “…and three years is almost intolerable.” I desperately wanted to whisper back. But no one hears me.

Where’s a Musketeer when you really need one?

Despite their obvious character flaws we love them as heroes and I’d be happy for any one of them to sweep me off my feet and rescue me. But considering I am old enough to be d'Artagnan's mother and they are all fictional anyway it seems unlikely - Musketeer Madness!

But last week there was a very different scene that didn’t just make my heart flutter but caused my soul to sing.

Athos and Aramis were holed up in a convent protecting the queen. Things are looking bleak and desperate.

The mother superior asks Athos if there is anything she can do to help protect her convent in the coming battle.

“Can you load a pistol?”

Taking the weapon from him she begins to recite “Blessed be the Lord my God,” all the while expertly continuing with the task in hand, “who teaches my hands to fight and my fingers to battle. Psalm 144.”

Even though Athos’s smile barely touches his lips you can see it in his eyes – he is impressed!

Meanwhile I am smiling broadly on the sofa. We had read that very same psalm that week in a prayer meeting. There is something very special about hearing the word of God. It really is like “honey to my soul”.

I looked it up in the Message this week, a paraphrased version of the Bible with imagery that often challenges and inspires me. These verses were no exception…

Blessed be God my mountain

Who trains me to fight fair and well

He’s the bedrock on which I stand,

The castle in which I live

My rescuing knight

The high crag where I run for dear life

While he lays my enemies low.

Can you guess my favourite line? 

God is my “rescuing knight”! 

This is the language of romance and adventure I love so much.

I may have spent the last ten weeks daydreaming, getting distracted and yes I’m not really sure what to do when there’s no Musketeers to watch on a Sunday night but it’s reassuring to remember that there is a hero who will always be around and his words will draw me in every time.

God is my hero – maybe a little bit like a musketeer but actually a whole lot better! And He will be around long after this Musketeer Madness has ended!

A prayer for the wobbly hearted

Yesterday I wrote a prayer and I decided to share it because this is how I’ve been feeling recently, slightly out of sorts and unbalanced.

Oldest son has moved on to the next stage of life - A levels, he's growing in independence yet he still needs me. Meanwhile youngest son will be choosing options this year. Things are changing for them while I seem to be stuck in a deep rut going nowhere!

 

I’ve been spending too much time on things I shouldn’t be, worrying about stuff that’s unimportant in the grand scheme of life, shutting the door on the issues I can't face and neglecting the one relationship that should mean the most – the relationship between me and my heavenly father.

God I know we’ve not spent much time together recently

Well at least I’ve not found time for you

I know you’ve been speaking to me

You’ve presented me with the gift of rainbow, a glint of sunshine, a beautiful flower

“Yes” I say with indifference as I wave you on your way

And carry on with my own schemes

But I know the absence of you in my days is what’s making my life off balance

I wobble and fall over and cry

And part of me wants to just wallow in my misery

“Nobody cares” I wail as I press the self-destruct button and bite my nails, all the while hiding under a baggy jumper

But that’s so untrue

I have so many friends and they love me, they really do

Even the ones that have seen me at almost my very worst!

If even they forgive me the odd bad mood and sharp word how much more will you always be there?

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” I whisper as I climb up on your knee

Tears run down my face

“I’ve made a mess AGAIN!”

Let me rest here a while

Let me sleep in your loving arms

And when I wake be the centre of my day…

If I could travel back in time…

Yesterday I went to see About Time, the new Richard Curtis film. I always enjoy his writing and the way he tells a story, I’ve already watched Notting Hill this week on DVD and I was really looking forward to this film even without Hugh Grant in it!

I wasn’t disappointed; the film made me laugh out loud and inevitably made me cry. Any romantic movie stirs up my emotions but I can’t tell you about everything that made me cry because I don’t want to spoil the plot for anyone.

However it is not spoiling things too much to say that the movie is about a man who can travel in time, but only backwards and only within his own life.

To perform this feat all he has to stand in a dark room, usually a cupboard or a wardrobe, clench his fists tight and think about the exact moment he wants to go back to, usually with a view of changing things for the better.

It got me thinking … if I could stand in my wardrobe and clench my fists how far would I want to travel back in time? What would I want to change? And let’s pretend I only get one go at it so I have to pick my moment well.

I’ve done some pretty silly things in my time, and I’m certainly not listing them all on here. Some things I cringe over - how could I ever have been so daft? I could go back and change them, stop me from making a fool of myself but without those moments that I laugh about would I still be me? And often my friends get a good giggle out of them as well! It’s all part of growing up, even if I am still learning at 45!

No in the grand scheme of things those events are not worth going back for.

Would I instead choose to go back to the last time I saw Andrew? What if I had stayed with him that afternoon instead of going out? Could I have saved him?

Time travel really does throw up the most interesting of dilemmas. If Andrew had his heart attack, because I’m not sure much could have prevented it, but if he survived would he have been the same person?

His dad had his first heart attack at the same age but it affected him to the extent that he was never quite the same again. To be honest I’m not sure I would have coped well with a shadow of Andrew in our lives, always there but not quite how he should be.

No I think if I was going to go back in time it would have to be to a happy day, probably one of those days out we had as a family that last summer.

Perhaps the one where we dropped the camera – let’s rewind that – I’d hold that precious object so tightly and capture many more happy snaps.

Eliminating the broken camera would save the arguments that followed; youngest son wouldn’t have been as moody as we walked along blaming himself, when really it was just an accident passing the camera between us when it slipped from our fingers, I was just as much to blame for letting go of the strap.

However this was still mostly a happy day, I would just like to go back and smooth out the crinkly edges of it, make it almost more than perfect.

The boys would skim stones until it became second nature and it would remain forever a talent their dad had taught them one sunny day. OK so it’s not the greatest life skill but it’s something youngest son has never mastered and it makes me sad to watch him when he sort of tries and immediately gives up.

If I could live this day again I would laugh louder and longer, enjoying every second. I would forget about my aching back and the long car journey which had exacerbated the nagging pain. I would just enjoy it all over again and I would make time for more kisses and hand holding and talking about the completely unimportant trivial stuff – those little things that I truly miss.

I’m really not asking for much, I don’t want to change time or alter the future – oh if only I could step into the wardrobe and enter another world!

But all we can do is enjoy the here and now. I’m learning and trying, choosing JOY when I remember, counting my blessings and trying so hard not to worry about what the future holds.

The past is sadly gone but I can always relive that day in my memories, maybe it wasn’t totally perfect but it was pretty good nevertheless!