Seeking and hiding

It's 3am and I'm in our latest 24/7 prayer room. Our theme is Fixing Broken Things. All the activities around the room feature it on some way. Loosely sometimes- but there if you look for it.

Then they entered into a covenant to seek the Lord God of their fathers with all their heart and with all their soul. (2 Chronicles 15:12)

We have a roll of lining paper gaffer taped to the floor with verses and prayers scribbled all over it. I look at the verse from Chronicles for a long time. I become fixated with the word seek. Isn't it weird to single out one particular word and overthink it until it sounds like something you've never heard before. A foreign syllable that feels strange in your head when you think it and on your lips when you say it and your ears are like - Whoah! That was a brand new sound.

Seek

Seek

Seek

Honestly - what does it even mean?! What does it look like to seek for something? To seek for God? And how do you seek God's presence when it's essentially everywhere? Seeking is kind of like searching, but more intense. Like there's more riding on the outcome. Like your life depends on it or something.

This song starts playing over the PA. It has a line about seeking in it and the printed lyrics are in the prayer tent. I go over to the tent and crawl inside to read them. There’s a sleeping bag and pillow and camping lantern in here. It’s 3am and I could lie down and sleep, but I’m too busy thinking about seeking, here in the tent. Hidden from the rest of the room. Hidden from the world. I’m seeking while I’m hiding. Hiding and seeking at the same time. That's kind of cool.

I remember an incident from years ago when the kids were little and my parents were down visiting us. Grandparents are nature's built-in babysitters and were playing with everyone while I tidied up after dinner. There was lots of squealing and running and laughing as they played hide and seek. There was a distinct lack of stealth to the whole thing that comes with toddlers, but no one seemed to mind and it didn't affect the enjoyment of the game. After a while, the house became quieter as the game moved on and attention (or grandparental energy) ran out. I was making a cup of tea when a muffled voice almost made me drop my mug. 'Do you think they're still looking for me...?'

It was my mum. She'd been hiding in a cupboard for the past 20 minutes, squashed next to the ironing board, 8' from where I was standing and I hadn't know she was there. The kids didn't know she was there either, and what's more, they weren't looking anymore. They were watching TV with Grandad.

Sooooooooo..... My Mum won at hide and seek.

If the end goal is to out manoeuvre the other players and stay hidden until it's decided you can't be found, then everybody gives up and declares you the winner, then that's what happened. Technically and actually. My mum was the winner.

Except that wasn't the point. The point was the game itself. The laughing and being engaged with what's happening in the moment. The being alive together.

It's so easy to beat a little kid at hide and seek. Toddlers are monumentously poor at
1: Being quiet (unless they are asleep)
2: Finding a good hiding spot
3: Staying there for any length of time

As illustrated here (pinched from my mate Michael - engaged in a covert hide and seek operation with his daughter, Abby). I love this picture. It illustrates everything that's beautiful about playing with your kid. You can't win at anything with them because you can't win at relationships. You build them. The game - the stories you create together make the whole thing work.

I think about all this in the prayer tent while I hide. I get a sudden image of God in the fringes of my mind, counting. I zip up the prayer tent to hide even better. I even lie down to make myself smaller. 4..... 3..... 2...... 1...... OK - Where are you!?

And I burst out the tent, surprising him (because you can totally do that) and he laughs and bolts and beckons me to follow him. I don't know where to run to first. He's everywhere. Divine hide and seek.

Is that even a thing? I google and unsurprisingly, other people are writing about it: There's something deep in our hearts that wants to be pursued. We love the feeling of hiding, knowing full well people who care about us are pursuing us, seeking us out. I believe there is a God-given desire in all of us to be pursued, to be sought out. We want someone to pursue us. It makes us feel wanted, worthy, and desired. God is no different. He wants us to pursue Him. I believe that He even hides Himself sometimes to see if we value Him enough to seek Him. www.wholeheartedmen.com

I think this guy's onto something. I think winning is in the connection of relationship, not the victory of the outcome.

And if you really, really want someone to find you, then you hide in plain sight. Just like Abby.

OCB

Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed! Outside Clothes in the Bed!

The only reason I can cope with such violation is that I was on my 2nd glass of Prosecco. Plus, the duvet cover really needed changed anyway, so their outside clothes are in direct contact with the remnants of 2 weeks worth of farts and arousal-related epithelials.

*STOP PRESS*

New era of parenthood has arrived - one which allows me to play on my phone while getting driven around on the motorway after consuming 2 glasses of wine. This is the dream, people.

Thinking big

Child X appears in living room half an hour after being put to bed.
Me: Babe, what's wrong?

Her: (Slinks over and crumples next to me on sofa) I don't know...
Me: Are you poorly?
Her: (Trembly voice) No
Me: Are you sad about something?
Her: No
Me: What's up then?
Her: I don't know. It's just life. It goes on and on and on and I can't get my head around it.
Me: This is big stuff. Are you having an existential crisis like Michael?
Her: Yes - I think I might be.
Me: I love the way you think. Your brain is growing up just like the rest of you. But can we talk about this when it's NOT an hour past bedtime??

Toilet training

When tensions are running high between siblings due to exceptionally hot weather, teenage sensitivities and hunger (the responsible adult in the house only just realised it's 5pm and there's no plan for dinner yet), don't waste the bad feeling they have for each other. Use the time constructively to deliver a short object lesson in cleaning the toilet bowl.

If you are very, very lucky, the stars will align at this moment and when you nip to the toilet before dashing to Lidl, you will discover that toilet user or users unknown have once again left skid marks and pretended not to notice.

Decide that your strategy must change as neither cleaning it up without comment nor cornering spawn one at a time and sensitively broaching the subject to be met with shocked expressions and claims of 'That definitely wasn't me' are clearly not long term solutions.

Instead, gain the attention of all present and temporarily remove screen privileges. Distract with dinner-related tasks and explain what is about to happen. Prepare for resistance, but power through and point out that the pizza will be ready in 7 short minutes, by which time the unpleasantness will be over.

Assemble in the bathroom. Explain to the spawn that they can determine the order they clean in, but that everyone will get a turn. In fact, everyone will get more than one turn if that's what the job demands. Hand out the toilet roll and bleach and supervise the queue.

Be surprised at how efficiently the job can be done. Supervise the squirting of the bleach and the final flush. Congratulate your team as they wash their hands and file out the bathroom.

Da-daaah!

Job done. Not only is the toilet bowl perfectly clean and ocean fresh, but tensions between the spawn will have melted away. They will have bonded with each other during this team building exercise and now be united in their annoyance with you. Luckily you are an adult and your sense of self worth does not depend on their approval.

Eat pizza together 7 minutes later and discuss the best bits and worst bits of your day. The worst bit will be likened to class detentions which apparently 'never work'. I disagree. The object lesson was clearly effective because we're still talking about it and the toilet is clean. 

Family Meeting

Minutes from non-scheduled after dinner meeting last night. Points raised and resolved as follows:

Issue 1
J playing the same 7 notes on the bass. Loudly and repeatedly.
Defence: It's annoying
Accused: I'm learning to play the bass. I need to practise
Verdict: Overruled. He's learning to play bass and doing really well. Suck it up.

Issue 2
M offended at laughter when we recount the story of a pheasant getting squished in the road
Defence: This upsets me. It's not funny when animals die.
Accused: Yeah but sometimes they're so stupid it's a little funny.
Verdict: Upheld. That was a living thing that just got turned inside out in front of you. Show a little compassion.

Issue 3
Sniffing other people's armpits
Defence: It's weird. And annoying. Please stop.
Accused: Sometimes you don't spray adequately, I'm just trying to work it out.
Defence: Do it more subtely then. You're an adult.
Verdict: Upheld. Sorry. I will try to be more senstitive in the future.

Issue 4
Looking for something that's no longer there
Defence: When you move my stuff I don't know where it's gone and it's irritating.
Accused: There shouldn't be 'stuff' lying around - everything belongs somewhere
Verdict: Overruled: Pick up your own stuff

Issue 4a
You leave clutter lying around the house that should be put away
Defence: There shouldn't be 'stuff' lying around - everything belongs somewhere
Accused: Well sometimes you don't ask us to put stuff away nicely
Defence: I'll work on that. Sorry. Maybe you guys can work on tidying stuff up with a good attitude when I have asked nicely?
Verdict: Compromise

Issue 5
Phones at the table
Defence: This meeting is going on too long....
Accused: Put it away. We're nearly done. Any further issues??

Issue 6
The BABOAA (Being-a-bit-of-an-arse) alarm - which is a 'Woowoowoowoowoowoowoo' siren noise made by the one who identifies arse-like behaviour in another
Defence: This winds me up. Can we stop using it
Accused: But you like to use it on other people
Defence: Yeah - because when I use it, I use it correctly
Verdict: We have evolved beyond the alarm. It is causing more trouble than it's solving. Let's use words in future.

Issue 7
Watermelon spritz thievery
Defence: It was there in the cupboard and I asked for some and you said no, then 2 days later it's GONE. The rules aren't consistent
Accused: Who bought it?
Defence: You did. But I was with you.
Accused: OK - so we have a basic misunderstanding about entitlement here. You saw it in the cupboard and felt it was communal stock. I'll hide the bottle the next time.
Verdict: Overruled

Issue 8
Blogging about family conversations
Verdict: We ran out of time to discuss this one. It's on the agenda for the NEXT family meeting, along with not cleaning the toilet after leaving skidders and putting cereal boxes back in the cupboard with less than half a bowlful of flakes left.

Ballet

We have 2 teenage boys and one incredibly non-girly girl. I have spent zero hours of my life ferrying kids to and from ballet lessons and have little insight into the world of points and tutus and everything that goes along with it. Then, a few months ago, I was the stand-in parent for my best mate's daughter who was about to sit a ballet exam.

I witnessed a very intense 40 minute lesson from the perimeter of the room surrounded by other ballet mums - some of whom were taping their daughters' performances on iPads so they could later critique performances around the dinner table and work on improvements before e-day.

The teacher, Miss Diana* clearly had a mission to have every girl pass the exam the following week and was taking no prisoners. Everyone had to get with the programme. She controlled the class in a sing-songy yet strangely threatening voice that suggested Bad Things would happen if her instructions were not followed. No one else seemed freaked out or offended by this. She also used lots of French words that I'm about to horribly misspell because I left school nearly 30 years ago and never studied French. They included:

Bat mon gleesay
Sourire
KEEP SMILING
Bay mon dong
Bronda charloh ten
Rondeh joh n
Don't murmur
You can breathe and you can blink
Ballet second ton dew
Demi plee ay
No willy wonkeys
Plee ay
Gleesay close back
YOU'RE NOT SMILING
Grande gleesay close front
Aw fondew
Dev le pay du von

I had no idea what this woman was talking about. And I was genuinely uncomfortable by the way she spoke to the kids.

The weird thing was, the little girls appeared unfazed and were happy to comply with the French orders. And the mothers surrounding the room were totally comfortable with the arrangement and were paying for it to happen. There was an agreement in place that I wasn't quite getting.

It was a disconcerting experience. Everything about the environment was alien and unfamiliar. And even though a couple of the ballet mums smiled and chatted before the thing started (we were NOT allowed to talk while Miss Diana ran the class) they had a common interest in this whole thing that I didn't share (and had no desire to). I was a temporary interloper in their world, conspicuously standing in for a real ballet mum.

Which got me thinking about social situations in general and how tribal these things can be. New school. Leaving school. College. New job. Joining a gym. Becoming a parent governor. Joining a political party. Going to church...

Each sub culture has its own set of norms and habits that those who belong to it take for granted. There's familiarity and history and acronyms and an understanding of what to expect. Which is great - when you have a little inside knowledge.

But what about those on the fringes? What about those who want to join and start building history? Relationships? Bonds that really matter? Maybe that's asking a lot of your governing body (You only signed up for 3 meetings per year for the next 4 years - just explain your zillion acronyms to me) but churches - surely they should be among the most accessible places on earth?

Our church has an entire team of people who's primary focus is on welcoming people at the door, chatting to visitors, connecting them with other people and having really good quality coffee in constant supply. From a logistical side, the entrance is street level and there's loads of parking. All good. The whole thing works well for those who are already primed and ready for that kind of interaction.

But what of those beyond the fringes? The interlopers. The conspicuous ballet mums and the slightly freaked out? The ones who know this is a valuable resource of some kind for some people, just not them (yet)? What about those who want to observe from the sidelines then grab their borrowed child and leave before they get into conversation with anyone (possibly in French)?

This is where other ballet mums come into their own. The ones who make eye contact and smile. The ones who ask which kid you've borrowed and point out their own. The ones that are friends with your best friend and ask how she is. The ones that laugh at your unease about Miss Diana's voice and make you feel less uneasy about her. The ones who help you see that Miss Diana comes alive when she teaches other people's daughters to dance.

So, to all:
Regular ballet mums
Experienced governors
Veteran churchy people
Smiley duty reception staff at the gym
And anyone else who can make interlopers walk away from you, smiling and thinking,  'Je pourrais appartenir ici...' ** -  Merci x

*Pseudonym used
** 'I could belong here' (Hopefully - I googled it)

Delegation

I have spawned a cook! A real live person who makes things in the kitchen and enjoys it and the results are incredible. Thank you Mrs Davies! Forget all this maths / science / business nonsense. Food tech is the future. Am almost delirious here.

Exhibit A: Panna cotta

J has made this dish 3 times in the last 3 days. It's our new favourite thing. The texture is a mix of jelly and cloud and tastes amazing. I have to hunt and gather the ingredients and remind him to fill the sink before he starts, but otherwise the whole process is undertaken independently.

This is the dream, people.

Batch #1: It's 10pm but this had set and he can clean his teeth again afterwards.

Batch #2: Working on the presentation. With dobs of coulis and everything. 

Batch #3 setting in the fridge as I type. This version includes an experimental portion where the coulis is swirled through it.

I don't know how this happened or why but I'm hoping not to break it.