Shhhh! Stop moving so fast!

Ethan seems to have a very high pain and sickness threshold. Thankfully he’s not ill too often, but when he is, he really is. We had at least 6 trips to A&E before he was 9. So yesterday was one of those days when he wasn’t too well. Him and his Daddy didn’t make it to church because the battery in the van had died the day before round at a friend’s house and couldn’t be fixed once Katy and I had headed for church. When we arrived home  we discovered that he’d thrown up. We made lots of guesses about what he may have eaten, but then decided it was just a horrible bug. The throwing up carried on all afternoon, evening and into the night. Poor little guy.

He slowed right down, was lethargic, had no interest in doing anything, including screen-time (amazing), and just was ill. I found out that his brain was still buzzing though. I encouraged him out onto the bench in the sunshine and he snuggled up.

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‘When you die and go to heaven, will you remember your life on earth?’

‘Yes I’m sure you will.’

‘What age will you be in heaven?’

‘Not sure son. Maybe ageless? Your body doesn’t go, just your soul. Your personality, your thoughts and feelings.’

‘Will you know anybody else?’

‘Yes, I’m sure you’ll recognise people you know.’

‘But how will you recognise them if they don’t have bodies?’

Silence.

‘I think I need to do a bit of research!’

How can a child with no physical energy, turn his mind to such deepness? I don’t think he thought he was actually going to die, although at one point he did ask if the vomiting was ever going to stop.  He has been throwing a few other deep and meaningfuls my way recently. Keeps me on my theological toes.

His visits to A&E have been caused by things like: jumping off a wardrobe, opening (!) and drinking half a bottle of Calpol, some _itis in his stomach that begins with ‘m’ , and good old campylobacter  (food poisoning: after raiding the fridge and eating uncooked chicken goujons). It was during this last visit, which actually entailed about 3 trips, that he began to hallucinate. His clothes were walking round the room and there were people in the room that actually weren’t. It was very scary. And I got a little scared about 3 o’clock this morning when he told the silence to ‘shhhhh’ and me, lying still beside him to ‘stop moving so fast!’ I had just about planned the sequence of events to get us to the hospital when he fell asleep again and I convinced myself he was just dreaming.

He woke up this morning with rosy red cheeks and I could tell he was back to his usual self because he recited the words of an entire Minecraft parody, followed by another one, and another. But he had deduced one thing from the whole experience.

‘I think God stopped Daddy’s van from working yesterday so that I didn’t go to church and give everyone my germs!’ Faith and logic.

 

Changing lenses

A few weeks back I had an idea for a new blog which was going to be reflective and have a devotional feel to it. You can have a look at it right here if you like! Please do. But, in doing so I began to rethink this blog, which I have pretty much neglected over the last year (a bit like my garden), and let’s be honest, have never really faithfully done anything about it.

The reason for the new blog was to try and ‘get writing’. Well, get writing and get it out there where someone would actually read it – hopefully. And then I started to think about this poor blog, dormantly hoping I’d get back and give it some attention.

I had to have a rethink then about the purpose of this blog. I needed to hone things a bit in my mind. The ‘mud and sparkles’ of life with the Fyfes was its original intention and I guess it still is to a degree, but there are some specifics of our life that I wanted to be able to express.

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Just over a year ago we brought home our Lacey from the animal sanctuary – our 13 week old mad puppy. A week later, Tony (hubby) had a stroke. In the weeks following that, late at night in the middle of winter, Lacey and I would wrap up and walk the streets of Belfast. She was probably oblivious to the oceans of tears that I shed on those walks. I was trying my best to look after a recovering stroke patient, a hormonal ‘tween’, a 9 year old son with ADHD and ASD and now a puppy! Mostly the tears were from emotional exhaustion, but I had to try and see the funny side. It’s a good job God was walking the streets with me, because he and I had some very long conversations during that winter.

There were a lot of stories to be told in that year, and if like me you keep a journal, you’ll understand the pages of outpouring. Maybe it was wise that they weren’t all spilled into a blog, maybe it’s time to share some of them and maybe it’s time to talk about the rebuilding of our life together.

So, I’m adjusting the lens a bit on what I want you to see in our ‘mud and sparkles’ , refocussing I suppose, and hoping that our journey will inspire and encourage  you in yours.