Last night I spent an hour and a half in a freezing cold church with my coat on praying my head off.
I’d had a disappointing day. I’d asked a friend to look after Esther so that I could go to Liverpool to visit Mum. After heavy traffic, I arrived five minutes after she had gone into theatre. I then waited for 2 and a half hours, having been told Mum would be out in 45 minutes and then able to be seen after 25 minutes recovery time.
Sadly, I had to leave before she was out. BOO! 🙁
As it was, I got stuck in traffic on the motorway and missed pick up time at school. (Mum’s out there you KNOW the frantic feelings that brings!) Our friend Keith who was minding his own business putting a radiator into Esther’s bedroom, received a phone call to ask him to become sole carer of 4 children until I got home. Not that long, but long enough.

I felt frazzled and teary. Was I a rubbish daughter? Was I a rubbish Mum? I know I am far from perfect in either department but I wasn’t about to say those things over myself. That would be agreeing with lies.

So I did not allow myself one tear or wallow in my feelings about the circumstances. I knew this was the enemy trying to rob me of faith and joy about the day. So I texted our neighbour’s daughter and told her I would pay her to babysit for two hours in the evening whilst I went to a prayer meeting. (Jon was at some Gala dinner thing)

As I shivered my way through the night at church, I smiled. The presence of God was wonderfully tangible. The enemy did not win in any way yesterday. In fact, I just heard that Mum is coming out 4 days earlier than expected and that she has been able to share her story boldly with some of her fellow patients.

That is the best birthday present I could have received.
God is good.
The M60 is not.
Nor is the total lack of heating at prayer meetings.
But again I say, God is good!
I am a weeble. Try and knock me over at your peril. I may just bounce back up and bump ya!