25 random things

It’s been way too long since I updated this blog.

In my opinion it’s not how many times you fall over that matters but how many times you get up and start over again. So here I am, picking myself up and starting over again.

I am a facebooker (allow me the poetic licence to coin the term). I enjoy reading friends’ statuses (the plural of  ’status’ looks and sounds really strange but trust me, it’s correct).

Why I believe

Apparently on the 1st of December, several Christian bloggers responded to a call to write about why they believe in God. I read a few of their entries and determined to do the same, however I didn’t manage to get round to it sooner.

It’s 2 weeks later but better late than never so here I am taking up the challenge and endeavouring to articulate why I believe.

The world’s best husband

As any parent of young children, especially babies, knows, a night of uninterrupted sleep is a bonus rather than a guarantee. You grab whatever snatches of sleep you can get in between waking up for feeds, nappy changes, reassurring cuddles and anything else that may come up.

This has been our lot since having EDU six months ago. Unfortunately for us, he is not one of those babies who sleeps for any considerable length of time. If he goes for 3 hours at a stretch, it’s a good day.

Paradigm shift

I’m reading a book called ‘The Shack’, written by William Paul Young. It came highly recommended by my pastor and Mo Cushla and I picked up a copy a few weeks ago. And am I glad we did!

Anyone who knows me well knows I read very fast and by very fast I mean getting through hundreds of pages in a matter of hours. However this is one book I don’t want to finish in a hurry.

I’m experiencing a paradigm shift of monumental proportions as I read. There are so many mind-blowing concepts in the book, I keep having to set it down to adequately absorb each and every one.

“I don’t want to miss a thing”

Mo Cushla hates going to bed, especially at weekends and heaven forbid he should have a nap in the day even when he’s exhausted. I, on the other hand, love my sleep and enjoy going to bed at night. A daytime nap whenever I get a chance is a bonus especially with having to wake up several times a night to attend to the children. As a result, I find it particularly difficult to understand why anyone wouldn’t want to do the same.

 

Several times I’ve caught him snoozing on the couch but when I ask him to go and lie down, he tells me he’s not sleeping!

I love popcorn

I love popcorn. I’m one of those people who believe it’s a travesty to watch a movie at the cinema without popcorn. There’s nothing like crunching along to the soundtrack of the movie.

 

However I must qualify that it’s not just any popcorn that I love but sweet popcorn. I cannot stand salty popcorn. It just isn’t the same and doesn’t leave me with that warm fuzzy feeling I get from sweet popcorn.

Open letter to Mr Peter Tatchell

Don’t call me homophobic!

Open letter to Peter Tatchell

 

Dear Mr Tatchell,

 

You accuse me of being homophobic because I do not approve of your gay lifestyle. You call me prejudiced because I believe homosexuality is wrong. You claim that homosexuals are a marginalised group, compared to ethnic minorities, who are constantly criticised. You go as far as predicting that I would act out my views by being abusive and even violent to gay people.

 

If I took a leaf out of your book and called you a paedophile simply because you think the age of homosexuality consent should be lowered to 14, how would that make you feel? If I accused you of being lewd because you feel the laws against pornography be relaxed, would I be justified?

Writing again

 

 

I’ve been ill with morning sickness. I have been totally incapacitated and barely able to sit up much less do any writing.

 

I despaired that I would never write again as I had no clue how long the sickness would go on for. Also the very fact that the end of result of the pregnancy is a baby means finding the time to write will prove something of a major challenge.

 

Thankfully, even though not 100%, I feel much better now and more prepared to take up the challenge of writing again.

 

Does this mean the writing will come easier to me? I wish!

Has anyone seen my muse?

 

I haven’t managed to do any writing in months. I’m now in a better position to do so but seem to have lost my muse. That elusive, hard-to-grasp concept also known as ‘inspiration’ seems to have escaped me.

 

Waiting to get my muse back is a cop-out really as I realise writing is about the hard graft not just the flighty ‘inspiration’.

 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not downplaying the role of inspiration in writing but I am saying it is a combination of this and hard work. I believe that to produce great writing, one cannot depend on inspiration alone.

 

There are times when there is no inspiration yet one must carry on plying one’s art in the hope that somewhere along the way, the great inspiration will make its appearance.

Musings on trouble

I wonder where I came off getting the idea that, as a Christian, I’m somehow exempt from tragedy and suffering. Deep down in my subconscious, I believed those things only happen to other people, not me or mine.

 

I always seemed to express deep shock when something went wrong in my life or in the life of a dear one as though it were a great cosmic mistake. I tended to think that there’d been some sort of heavenly mix-up and the trouble had been wrongly delivered to my address.