Category: On parenting

Three things I was never told about being a mum

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I am aware that Mother’s Day is difficult for many. It is important that churches celebrate each and every woman who is a part of their church community, so that no one feels left out. We are, after all, each a vital part of our church family.

Today I do want to take time on my blog to reflect on what being a mum is like for me. I adore my kids – yes, they frustrate me intensely at times (just keeping it real!), but they are what gets me up in the morning (on school days that’s to ensure they get up on time – they’ve both hit the teenage years and would rather catch a few extra moments in bed!). While I treasure my kids, pray for and encourage them daily, there are definitely things that have surprised me about being a mum. I thought I would share some of them this Mother’s Day. I didn’t realise:

1. How much my sleep would be affected

We all start out expecting to have broken nights (I always found it frustrating that late pregnancy resulted in a severe lack of sleep – it made more sense to me to be able to store it up, because once a baby arrives letting you sleep is not top of his/her agenda!) However, I never realised that my sleep would go on being affected. We were actually blessed with great sleepers – our first slept through the night by eight weeks (her brother more than made up for that though!). But just because they slept doesn’t mean that I did. I would lie awake in those early years, wondering how they were, praying for them, thinking about the challenges we were going to face the next day.

And then of course the early school years brought so many different bugs and illnesses into our home, causing a big smattering of sleepless nights (I still remember the night before my husband first preached at our church; our daughter had chickenpox and was quite distressed. In order to give him some rest, and to try and settle her, I went to her room and lay down next to her cot, holding her hand – and was still there the next morning.) 

But now we have teenagers, our eldest is always up beyond the time that I would naturally want to go to bed. It is in that quieter time, without her younger sibling, that she often opens up more about what is going on for her. They are super precious moments – ones I don’t want to miss. There are just times when I could do with help keeping my eyelids open!

2. How much I would question my own decisions

People sometimes say that mums have an inbuilt, natural gift of knowing what to do in countless situations. But, while there often is an automatic response that happens in times of crises, for example, I haven’t always found that to be the case. I’ve floundered when trying to decide whether a child needs to stay off school, whether I should be giving them another dose of medicine (thank God I have a level-headed and wise husband to make decisions alongside me!) – and whether I should have gone back to work as quickly as I did (even though I work from home). I have worried I’ve made the wrong decisions, felt guilty if I’ve taken time for myself and lifted up many a prayer to ask that I wouldn’t scar them for life by making the wrong decision.

3. How intense my feelings towards them would be

Now this one took me by surprise. I actually found it hard to bond with my kids initially, as I had problems breastfeeding them, and also experienced postnatal depression. But I’m relieved to say that that difficult period passed fairly quickly and, ever since, I have continued to be overwhelmed by the intensity of emotions I feel for them. 

In recent years I have had to fight hard for support for one of them, and have surprised myself at how readily my ‘big mama bear’ (as we call her) comes to the fore. I am naturally a shy, fairly quiet person but woe to anyone who doesn’t show them the care or consideration that any human being deserves. I never fully appreciated the depth of love – and pain – I would feel. There are times when I long to be able to take the difficulties they are walking through upon myself instead. In other moments, I am totally overwhelmed by joy simply watching them make each other laugh. 

Looking back, motherhood has certainly been a rollercoaster ride. While the journey has included a lot of pain and lament recently, I am so grateful to God for my precious children.

Holiday fun

Underground in the Mithraeum.

Those of you with children will know what it is like trying to juggle work with the kids at home. Getting that balance right of spending time meeting deadlines as well as good quality time with your family can be difficult.

That is why, when I saw that Caroline Lawrence had a book launch at the London Mithraeum I jumped at the chance to take my kids there. Caroline has been a firm favourite author in our household – my daughter has devoured her whole Roman Mysteries series. And my son met her at the Barnes Literary Festival last year.

Lounging around with Caroline!

The experience was fantastic: with timed slots we chose well – the usual ‘graveyard’ slot at mid-afternoon was less busy than others and so the kids (mine and a friend’s who came along) had the treat of one-on-one time with Caroline (you can see from the picture above, she seemed to enjoy it as much as them!). 

Caroline then gave some background into the inspiration for her new book – the discovery of the Temple of Mithras, which is housed underground (we were treated to an interactive experience inside). She then read the start of The Time Travel Diaries.

Reading along with the author…

It is always such a great opportunity when readers, young and old, can meet authors and learn more about their work – the inspiration, process etc. And hearing them read their own story really helps it to come alive.

If you get the chance to go to an event being put on by an author you admire, I am sure it will be well worth going to!

Learning to trust God for our children – again!

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As soon as he came out of school my heart sank. His shoulders had dropped, and his whole demeanour oozed sadness…

That was back in July and became the start of an exceedingly difficult few months with our son, who is 9. We had been told that the two classes in his year group were going to be mixed up for the new academic year, but had been assured that friendship groups would be taken into consideration.

He had just found out that he didn’t have any of his three close friends in his class. And he was literally devastated.

What followed was weeks of crying himself to sleep and he ended that school year a different boy – less confident, no longer wanting to go back to school, questioning the point of prayer. His behaviour over the summer holidays we’ve just had was challenging in a way we’d not seen before too.

He really struggled to deal with the change emotionally – and we struggled to parent him through it at times.

TURNING TO PRAYER

As soon as we had heard that the classes were going to be mixed up, we had prayed – with, and for – our son. We had talked about new opportunities for friendships, and also reassured him that God was with him and that the Bible says: “we know that all things work together for good to them that love God” (Romans 8:28, KJV), which means we can trust God – whatever the outcome.

So when the news rocked him to the core, of course we started asking God why it had happened – because he was asking us and we didn’t have any simple answers. We also wondered whether we should complain, or simply trust that the right course of action had happened.

It was tricky navigating this whole aspect, because we’d said to our son he could trust God would hold him, and work things out in a way that would ensure God’s purposes for his life, and yet here he was faced with what he viewed as a truly negative turn of events.

I am quite an emotional person, and when something happens that either upsets my family, or me, I can find it hard to hear from God about it. So I did struggle and, in the end, simply asked God whether he would show me if it was right to talk to the school. An opportunity naturally arose, but it didn’t change the decision.

FACING THE NEW TERM

We prayed together the night before our son went back to school and his prayers revealed that he had grasped the understanding that he needed to give it a chance. While he was fairly resigned to the situation as he travelled into school, I think perhaps I found it more difficult waving him off than he did going in!

And in those first few days I saw God’s hand at work, for both my son and me. He was able to play with his friends at break and lunchtime, enjoyed being in a class with his new teacher and even came out one day saying that it was a nicer class overall!

On the first day, his teacher was on the gate when I dropped him off so I was able to chat to him. And the next day his teaching assistant was there. She has been with him for a few years, and was able to reassure me that she thought it was the best thing that could have happened to him. That his best friend, who has consistently been competition for him in a good way (they’ve helped motivate each other), had actually started becoming a distraction in the last year. So she felt it was good they had been split up.

I immediately felt flooded with peace when I heard this – and also felt a little nudge in my spirit. I had had an inkling that there may have been something like that behind the decision; whether that was simply my parental instinct or me hearing from God I can’t say for definite, but in that moment I certainly felt a confirmation that God has been looking out for our son all along.

GOD IS ALWAYS AT WORK

Of course, I know the truth that God loves my kids even more than I do, and that part of my job as a parent is to learn to entrust them more and more to him, but I also know that is a work in progress and I don’t always get it right (and it’s easier said than done sometimes).

I’m so glad our son is settling into school well so far, but I know there will still be challenges ahead. While he may be throwing himself into tackling the new situation at school head on, his behaviour at home still isn’t great and we are navigating the whole ‘disciplining with lashings of grace’ right now.

But I am really grateful for the glimpse of seeing God at work in our son’s life – and I know I definitely needed the reminder to trust God with my kids (especially as the oldest one has just become a teenager! 😉 )

 

 

 

Prayer provides natural opportunity

Today I have the huge privilege of guest blogging on Like Minded Musings, as part of the 30 day, multi-contributor, Raising Godly Girls series. Not only that, the post is mainly written by my amazing daughter 🙂 Please do click the photo below to head across and check it out.


 

I also want to give you the opportunity to grab the ebook created from another blog series Lee Felix of Like Minded Musings organised (and which I was a part of). It’s particularly for parents of tweens (but great to get now if your children are younger – I can assure you it will be a great help in years to come!). Do click below if you would like to download it.

30 Days of Tween Parenting Encouragement Blog Party e-book

Post-natal depression unmasked

Wow. I am constantly being overwhelmed by the honesty and vulnerability shown by those who have agreed to guest blog for my Unmasked: stories of authenticity series. Today, Helen Hodgson bravely shares about the horror of experiencing postnatal depression. Having experienced it myself I resonate with the power and truth behind her words. Thank you Helen for sharing so openly. I’m sure Helen joins me in praying that her post helps anyone reading who is suffering from postnatal depression. Please know that you are not alone…

‘Can’t you just smile and put your worries to the back of your mind?’

‘Maybe you should just drag yourself out of bed and you will feel better.’

‘You just need to enjoy them while they’re young – the time flies by so fast!’

‘You’re just tired. Everything will be better when you have some sleep.’

‘Just pray more. That should do the trick.’

‘Haven’t you got enough faith?’

‘It’s a choice, surely?’

Post-natal depression is still so misunderstood and such a taboo, particularly in church circles. My unmasking involves not simply writing about my experiences, but including some photographs that now send shivers down my spine. Pictures explain more than words ever could. My memories from this time are patchy at best and raw at their worse.

Just over 16 years ago, my beautiful boy was born after a traumatic emergency Caesarean and my first words on seeing him were ‘is that mine?’ This baby was like an alien to me and I was already a disappointment. I’d wanted a water birth. Instead, I had a general anaesthetic while they tore this child from my body. I didn’t meet him until I had come round from surgery. I’d had expectations of being the kind of mother that you read about in Enid Blyton books. This wasn’t part of my plan.

No amount of antenatal classes or well-meaning advice could have prepared me for the weeks and months of utter darkness that followed.

Post-natal depression took over as irrational and scarily angry thoughts swirled through my mind. I resented the intrusion of this screaming baby who never slept. I cared for his daily needs but I didn’t feel this mythical surge of love for him I was meant to feel. I watched other new mums cooing over their babies and felt jealous. Instead of nursery rhymes, I sung songs of destruction over him and thought about how to escape. I was so very lonely. I couldn’t connect with my baby and I couldn’t connect with other new mums who seemed so in love with their little ones.

Popping to the shops became a nightmare.

‘Isn’t he just a joy!’ An older lady cooed over him

I was horrified. I couldn’t understand how someone could even feel that way.

‘No.’ I replied. ‘He’s a monster.’

She quickly moved away from me as all I could think about was how this child had ruined my life.

Some days I raged and cried. Some days I numbly got on with the tasks in hand. I knew I had already failed and he was only months old. I was never going to be the mum he needed, so what was the point in trying? Actually, he would be better off without me.

Being part of a church only intensified my feelings of isolation and guilt. Well-meaning people gave me platitudes and I stood by as other mothers seemed to do a far better job than me. I watched them smiling and laughing and wondered why I couldn’t feel any connection with my child. I didn’t know where God was. I knew that I believed He was good and that He loved me. But I was failing Him too. He’d given me this son but I wasn’t able to nurture him the way I knew I was supposed to.

Support came from my health visitor and a few friends, but cups of tea and putting on brave smiles never removed the emptiness, anger, guilt and sense of failure I felt.

It was only after a dramatic sleepless night where my anger spilled over onto my precious baby that my kind and patient husband marched me to the GP. I was prescribed anti-depressants and counselling. By that point I was so numb and so desperate that I followed like a sheep.

And slowly, slowly, over time, the days began to be less dark. I discovered I could find joy in small things again. I could sing songs of hope and faith over him. I began to fall in love with my little boy. And, instead of finding me rocking in a dark corner after his return from work, my faithful husband would see I had made the tea or hung the washing out.

I began to heal.

Post-natal depression was my illness.

It wasn’t a choice.

It wasn’t simply tiredness (although sleep deprivation certainly didn’t help).

It wasn’t difficulty adjusting.

It wasn’t a lack of faith.

It wasn’t laziness.

It wasn’t failure.

And there is hope.

My boy, now 16, stands taller than me. His grin makes my heart melt inside. He sleeps – for too long sometimes! We share ‘in jokes’ and laugh together a lot. We talk about the deep stuff. He hugs me with his long gangly arms and buys me chocolate at just the right moments. Despite my feelings of failure and regret over his first few years, our ever-growing relationship is one of joy and trust. I’m so glad to be his mum.

And that surge of love isn’t mythical anymore. It happens everyday.

Helen is Co-Founder of Hope at Home, a freelance writer and youth worker.  She’s wife to one active husband and mum to three even more active young men.  She also loves running, squelching through mud in her wellies and reading her book in front of a fire.

 

Showing thankfulness to others

First off, let me say Happy National Writing Day to those of you in the UK! When I heard it was today, I decided I absolutely had to get round to posting my next blog in the thankfulness series. It has taken me until late afternoon, but I have been writing during the rest of the day too! (And sorry these posts haven’t been as regular as usual – work on my books has been filling my time – more writing! 😉 )

This post encourages you to do some writing of your own…

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1 Thessalonians 5:11 tells us to ‘encourage one another and build each other up’. A great way of doing this is looking out for ways to show someone else how thankful you are that they are in your life. Perhaps you could cook them a meal, buy them a small gift or, what I’m suggesting here, find a way to tell them exactly what they mean to you. This will do wonders for their inner spirit – and you’ll also find you are uplifted through doing it.

I would suggest keeping a steady supply of nice notelets or paper and then write notes of thankfulness for the people in your life every so often. Today, pick those closest to you and spend some time pondering what you could say in a note to them. Using pen and paper rather than a computer forces you to slow down, giving you the chance to really stop and think about the person you are going to be writing to.

If you have a partner, or a flat mate, leave them a card letting them know why you thank God for them and why it is wonderful to share your home with them. If you have children, make it a priority to write them a little note and hide it somewhere for them to find later. I have a little tradition with my kids– I write a note each morning and put it in their lunchbox. I know that both of them, since being in full-time school, have found lunch times difficult as it reminds them they are away from home all day. I make a point of telling them how much they are loved. And on days I know they have a test or are worried about something in particular, I write a Bible verse or a little prayer that addresses that. I also try to write notes to them every so often pointing out particular characteristics in them that I really appreciate too…

Of course, you could extend this out to people you don’t know well. Saying, or writing, a quick phrase that lets them know you’ve noticed them, and how they make your day better, will be such a blessing to them. For example, do you have milk delivered? Leave your milkman/woman a note simply saying ‘I thank God for you every time I see fresh milk on my doorstep’ – and then say a prayer of thanks whenever you bring in the milk.

Helping your tween deal with pressure

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I am delighted to be guest posting over on Like-Minded Musings today – here is a taster and a link for you to read the rest of the post:

exam hall3_1

Today my tween daughter, along with thousands of other 10 and 11 year olds across the United Kingdom, is starting a week-long set of tests. Whether I agree with the system or not, UK schools use SATs (standard attainment tests) to check a pupil’s progress at the end of their time in their first (primary) school before they leave to start secondary school (for ages 11–16/18) in September. So this is, in effect, the culmination of seven years of schooling.

No pressure then!

We actually live in an area that has a particular type of secondary school that I have never been fond of – grammar schools. Entry to these single-sex schools (something else I’m not that keen on) is by exam. There are usually over 3,000 applicants for a few hundred places. It’s high pressure!

My daughter has always excelled academically, but I wasn’t sure she would cope well emotionally with such a rigorous and demanding entrance criteria. I didn’t push her into taking the tests; she decided for herself that she would like to try and reach the required standard for grammar school and so studied hard for well over a year.

So this week’s set of tests has come after she has completed and passed not only the grammar school tests but also excelled at music scholarship entry tests at other schools too. She is going to be going to her own first choice of grammar school in the autumn, and I am proud of her for not being swayed by her peers as she is the only one from her school who chose it.

The long journey to get to this point has taught us both so much.

For example, we learned to look around each of the secondary schools in our area with spiritual eyes as well as physical, and I was astounded at her spiritual awareness.

I also learned to let go and entrust my daughter to God – over and over again!

This week may be a week of intense pressure, but I feel she has already achieved what her end goal was and so I am trying to alleviate the pressure as much as possible. As well, of course, as utilising some of those vital lessons learned, which I believe can be applied to all sorts of tween parenting situations (not just exams). Click here to read some of them – I hope they are helpful to you too.

The fog is lifting

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I awoke this morning to a London skyline that looked more like Victorian London than present-day. The fog was ‘as thick as pea soup’ – a very apt description used by many a Victorian writer! The children were excited, but I was loathe to get in the car and drive through the fog to get them to school.

But it wasn’t until I got home and was sat with my Bible that I looked up and saw the sun beginning to shine through the fog. The fog was lifting and, as it did so, I felt God speak into my spirit too.

You see, we have recently been facing a change in our 10-year-old daughter’s behaviour. She is becoming exceedingly hormonal and has had some very irrational responses to situations and everyday life in general. Last night, both children were emotional – my son because he was over tired, but I could only assume that it was my daughter’s hormones kicking in as there was seemingly no other explanation.

After an hour and a half of tears and tantrums my daughter finally went to bed more peaceful – she was chirpy as she said goodnight and couldn’t understand why I was still reeling from what had happened. I then carried the sadness of the evening downstairs with me and struggled to concentrate on what I was meant to be doing.

Today I awoke and prayed for a better morning. It started off well, with smiles all round, but the pressure of ‘mufti day’ (wearing her own clothes to school) overtook my daughter and the rants and tears started again as she felt nothing fitted or looked good on her (sigh, why does that pressure seem to appear out of nowhere at such a young age?). I again felt the tears rising up in myself, and had to take myself out of the situation. I was so frustrated and yes, did lose my cool, and then hated how my husband could walk in calmly and help her choose an outfit that I had suggested much earlier and she simply put it on…

Once my daughter was finally dressed, she came downstairs as if nothing had happened, but, yet again, I knew in my heart that I had been emotionally affected by the episode. As I drove home from the school run I pondered this: I know we are only starting the journey towards adolescence and that my daughter is finding it hard to control her emotions. She needs love and stability from both her parents – but I know that her emotional outbursts trigger something in me as I can relate to them so much.

I started questioning whether I found it difficult to help her navigate these times because I know at times I can’t navigate my own emotional ups and downs. If I’m honest, I started to feel down, allowing my mind to tell me that I’m failing as a parent as I just spiral when I hear her outbursts rather than being a steadying influence for her.

But, as that fog lifted outside, I felt God nudge me to say ‘It’s okay, just relax and let the fog lift off your spirit too.’ The fog has already lifted from my daughter – she’s at school enjoying learning and being with her friends – and it’s time for me to let go and face my day free of fog too.

Yes, I know that the last 24 hours have highlighted things in both myself and my daughter that need God’s gentle touch, but, for now, I feel a real sense of His sunshine piercing through the fog. It’s warm and refreshing – so needed after a long, draining week. Whatever you are facing today, may you feel the fog lift in your own life and know His sunshine too.

As a total aside, I just wanted to let you know that I have the privilege of being a guest blogger on Amy Boucher Pye’s website today. I’ve written about Home: refuge and resource, and honestly share what it is like having our home used for so many church activities – so do please take a look and leave a comment :0) 

 

Slowing down during Advent

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I love Christmas. I love the preparations, the waiting, the build up of excitement, the putting up of decorations, the time spent devising menus. I love being involved in the music for carol services, watching our children’s excitement as they prepare for the nativity play. But, if I’m honest, I also struggle with the stress.

I see the start of Advent, and know that it’s a time of reflection – and I long to have the time and space to really enjoy it. However, I’m sad to say, the busyness of life so often crowds in as I rush to finish deadlines before the kids break up from school.

At this point in our calendar I’m focused most on getting our son’s birthday party celebrations organised, with the ever-growing list of jobs to do for Christmas weighing on my mind.

Even among all the activity, though, I can sense a longing in my soul. I am desperate to connect, to find the deeper meaning in this season. And I am desperate for our family’s experience of Advent to go beyond chocolate and calendars.

I am drawn to rediscover the meaning of waiting this Advent. Drawn to the character of Mary, and what this time meant for her. When we first meet her in the gospels she seems like a vulnerable young woman; betrothed to a respectable man in her neighbourhood. But one visit from an angel changes everything.

Mary’s response to that angel, after a few somewhat understandable questions, is simply ‘I am the Lord’s servant… May your words to me be fulfilled.’ (Luke 1:38) Incredible. I could never be that calm.

After visiting Elizabeth, Mary creates what is often referred to as the Magnificat, her song of praise (Luke 1:46-55). Through it she reveals she understands the way that God has blessed her for a special purpose. Mary recognises that God is a champion for the poor and oppressed too, and that God is fulfilling His promises to Abraham (and Israel) through what is to take place.

Whenever I look at those verses I am always taken aback. Granted, Mary has had a visitation from an angel, who has taken the time to explain things to her. Elizabeth has also recognised that the baby inside of Mary is the Lord so Mary has someone she can talk freely with. But still…

While Mary herself recognises she is highly favoured, she’s also in a time of waiting that is filled with so many unknowns. Will Joseph stand by her? If he does, will their society cast them out? And then, once the census was decreed, how will she cope with the long journey to Bethlehem and where will she give birth? (I’m sure that the idea of a stable never once entered her head!) What would her son be like? How would He make Himself known as the Messiah?

So many questions, yet the biblical account doesn’t reveal much about Mary’s state of mind. There seems to be a peace amongst the anticipation while the reality must have been messy, and deeply painful, at times. What surrounds this part of the Christmas story for me is stillness and patience; the atmosphere thick with pregnant hope.

While I pause for a moment to reflect and write this, I pray that I too can find that stillness and patience. That I too can look forward to the coming celebrations with hope, not allowing the stress and busyness that can so easily accompany this season to rob me of the precious gift behind it all.

This blog was originally published on Christian Today.

True beauty

girl looking in mirrorI have a ten-year-old daughter who is beginning to be obsessed with fashion, make-up and yes, dare I say it, her figure.

I love the growing opportunities for girly shopping days together, as we have a huge amount of fun and the one-on-one time is priceless. But I am alarmed at the preoccupations that are already surfacing. She is thin, but apparently not as thin as one of her friends. She has some fantastic outfits (mainly from her older cousins, which is such a blessing), but is apparently not as ‘fashionable’ as that same friend (outfits are ‘judged’ at school discos).

Right from an early age, I have been teaching her that inner beauty is more important than outer beauty, but as she is growing ever closer to teenage-hood I can see the message ‘you must be thin and beautiful to be worth anything’ beginning to penetrate her mind. Alarmed, I have started to ask myself: Am I perpetuating the acceptance of that silent message somehow?

Yes, as I’ve hit and passed the ripe old age of forty, I’ve uttered the words ‘Oh no! I’ve put on weight!’ as I’ve tried to squeeze into a pair of skinny jeans, and have also asked ‘Does this outfit make me look fat?’ And guys this isn’t just a female-only problem: the message of the media is that you need to be toned and beautiful to be successful. The male grooming industry has exploded in recent years, so I know it is not just we women who obsess about such things.

I recently read a tweet from Stylish, quoting Helen Mirram: ‘I hate the word beautiful, I wish there were another word for it’.

That got me thinking about what true beauty is, and what I want my daughter to think about when she asks herself: Am I beautiful?

I do believe that the media’s constant use of glamorous models, whatever it is they are advertising, drip feeds us with the idea that we need to try to attain what, for some, is an unattainable goal. Here’s some of the ideas I’ve been using to combat the unhelpful messages we find all around us:

• Ask yourself: Am I happy in my skin?

When we remember that God has knitted us together in our mothers’ wombs (Psalm 139:13–14), and that each one of us is totally unique, it is time to accept ourselves for who we are. We can each strive for acceptance and affirmation from others (yes, my spirit is lifted when someone says ‘you look nice today’!), and yet God has a never-ending supply of both, if we would just look to Him.

Here’s an excerpt of the verses from psalms, taken from The Message. If you find it hard to accept your body shape, why not spend some time meditating on this, speaking it over yourself, because you are a marvellous creation:

‘Body and soul, I am marvelously made!

I worship in adoration—what a creation!’

Learn to be positive, and celebrate you for the person God made you to be; the real you.

• Stop obsessing about what you wear.

There is nothing wrong with wanting to look good, or enjoying the process of dressing smartly (and putting on make-up if you like wearing it), but allowing it to take over your focus isn’t healthy.

I have written previously about dressing our spirits; we can spend so long choosing what to wear but do we daily make a conscious decision to put on those garments that God has laid out for us?:

‘So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It’s your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it.’ (Colossians 3:12–14, The Message)

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• Change your idea of what beauty truly is.

As part of my daily reflections I am working through Rachel Gardner’s great book Beloved. Just today I got to her chapter on beauty, and loved the way she turned the definition of beauty on its head. She explains how our society has reduced beauty to glamour (outside, superficial, skin-deep beauty), and has some great, quotable lines on the difference between the two:

‘If glamour is the blusher painted onto your face, beauty is the inner radiance that lights you up from the inside.’

‘If glamour is the outfit that helps you make an entrance, beauty is your generous heart that makes your presence change the atmosphere.’

‘If glamour is the perfume clinging to your clothes, beauty is the fragrance of your life that lingers long after you’ve left the room.’

It is interesting to see how the Bible speaks directly about the importance of inner, rather than surface, beauty:

‘Don’t be concerned about the outward beauty of fancy hairstyles, expensive jewelry, or beautiful clothes. You should clothe yourselves instead with the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is so precious to God. This is how the holy women of old made themselves beautiful.’ (I Peter 3:3–5, NLT)

Taking the time to cultivate that gentle spirit has, so far, been a lifelong journey for me, so I’m taking these verses as an encouragement to keep on going!

It is this overall message that I hope to convey to my daughter, and it has also challenged me to think about the way that I live. Later on in her beauty chapter Rachel also says: ‘The goal of glamour is to make everyone feel envious. The goal of beauty is to make everyone feel loved.’ Isn’t that so true? We can get a fleeting feeling of contentment (or smugness – let’s call it by its true name!) when we know people are looking at us enviously. But those we look up to, those we describe as having a ‘beautiful spirit’, are those people who go out of their way to make others feel loved and accepted. They are the true successes; and the true world-changers.

• Remember your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit.

I am certainly not saying that we should let our bodies go to wrack and ruin. They are a gift, and we have a responsibility to look after them and keep them healthy, which often takes more work as we get older. I know the following verses from 1 Corinthians are in a passage about refraining from sexual immorality, but I think they are a good checkpoint for us to see what our attitudes to our bodies are:

‘Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honour God with your bodies.’ (1 Corinthians 6:19–20, NIVUK).

The Holy Spirit is in us; is our attitude towards our bodies and the way we behave towards those we are in contact during the day honouring to Him?

This article first appeared on the Christian Today website.