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3/4 of a yearJuly 22, 2015

We reached the 9 month milestone today and broke out the camera again. I’ve stopped reading the weekly baby e-mails, I know he should be crawling, teething, stacking objects… but he’s not. To add to the potential guilt he’s totally attached to his pacifier / dummy, I laugh at my younger self who swore she’d never use the things. I know in my head he’s getting too much screen time and spending too long in air conditioning, I wish we could get out more, but the heat is oppressive and even if he could cope, mummy couldn’t. It’s that guilt that pushes me to keep him on his tummy more than he wants, to sit besides him on the play mat when my legs go numb and try in vain to teach him to bounce with his knees rather than locking his legs. Oh, but we are tired.

Parenting is endless. The constant heat and treated air leech energy and lethargy comes like a welcome friend. Dirty dishes stack up, endless laundry gets piled at both ends, grocery lays in bags and any cleaning blitz is incomplete. Every nap time is a rush to work with priorities made long before little eyes are rubbed in sleep and eventually close. Computers warmed up, the to-do list is brushed aside for the rabbit hole of internet curiosities, until the little one stirs and reminds us time is precious and we start rushing through jobs.

It builds up sometimes, all these tasks, assumptions, expected outcomes and then I just need to release. However needed all the jobs are, however important the milestones to reach, none of it matters all that much. If we sit down to a gourmet meal in beautiful surroundings, or clear the table just enough to eat a pizza and a jar of baby food doesn’t matter. If Adam learns to crawl a month or two later it’s not going to hamper his future, he’s loved, incredibly, totally, insanely loved. He’s happy and healthy and he’s making our world into a better place just by being part of it.

And this time next week we’ll go to visit England, we’ll lose the heat and be able to move about during the day, we’ll remember how it is to wear multiple pieces of clothing and explore different toys. We’ll sing ‘Tasi Tasi Tanana’ and get the looks usually reserved for ‘clap clap hands’. We’ll have more than 2 rooms to explore and hugs from faces we don’t see as often as we’d like. Most importantly mummy will get to hit that great ‘reset’ button and when the adventure is over we’ll be excited to come home.

Getting out of the hole you criedJuly 16, 2015

I’ve been reliably informed the main reason people ‘give-up’ on mission work and ‘return home’ is other missionaries. I’d like to be surprised by that, but sadly I’m not. We hold higher expectations for the people we believe are there to support us, those linked by profession, belief, or family. We share in their joys and sorrows, feel infected by both their highs and lows. When their support holds we soar higher and if it falls we fall even further, their criticisms cut deeper and their belief in our endeavours means more. When these people are the ones causing drama the tears are toxic and burn a seemly inescapable hole very quickly.

I’ve been in a few of these holes over the past few years, laying in a bed late at night with puffy eyes and a mind racing, muttering prayers full of anger and pain. I’ve learnt to climb out by going through 5 steps, and while painful, the more times I’ve followed the pattern the more at peace I’ve found myself.

1. Recognise you are not special. Yeah, I said it. I turned my back on so much of kids ministry in those 5 words. God made me special… but he made every being special too by that logic. We are just all normal, fallible, screwed up, human beings, we all need to be given a break and can’t expect anyone to walk on eggshells for us. No matter who screwed up – accept it.
2. Forgive yourself. You may think it’s the other people you need to forgive, and you do, but those tears probably mean this is a two sided thing. If you don’t forgive yourself then your find yourself scratching the whole situation back on your clean slate again and again and again. Forgiveness is cleansing, and while some situations need a good soak to get them clean it’s pointless soaking in dirty water.
3. Remove the toxic thing. Usually this is painful, and it’s the kind of pain that lasts today, tomorrow and for some time to come. It may be that you need to remove yourself from something that’s a spark point, something you really value, or even something very public. Often it will seem to outsiders a complete overreaction but staying will only create more drama. Having a season away from whatever is toxic may also help if you return.
4. Define your passions. Sometimes it’s worth staying for the fight because the very fight is your passion. Usually it’s not, we try and make it seem like it is but it isn’t. Defining our passions regularly stops us holding onto passions we once had, instead of passions we have now. Pour your energy and passion into something you were called to, not something you settled for or got dragged into.
5. Post plan your time. Hold yourself accountable, look at your goals and see if you are achieving something. Tick things off your list, even if it’s just showering that morning. Take the opportunity to fill any void with something new, something that empowers, uplifts, or builds you up. Be deliberate about it, some of my best has come from ‘filling voids’.

Normally I emerge from that toxic hole, dirty and exhausted from the climb, and wanting to crawl right back in.

In some ways it’s easy to play the victim, to have a drama, to pump the adrenalin of indignation. I’ve come to learn that even peering back into the mud can be dangerous. The further you walk on the more clearly you see the real issues no longer obscured by the personalities and drama. Peace does return, even if you can’t imagine it right now.

To the girl in the crowdJuly 11, 2015

The city is swamped with tourists, oozing out of temporary accommodation into streets thick with the ebb and flow of crowds. Sun fall brings a wall of people trekking across the bridge, along Belgrade road and up to the entrance gates. A few rows behind me I hear a shard of conversation, a girls lament on how locals get tickets half price. I cringe inside, both from the arrogance of knowledge and the ignorance of circumstance. A Facebook image hovers mind about how it used to be that people from Novi Sad could afford to attend the festival.

One of the hardest things to explain to foreigners is how Serbia is still developing. One one side of the coin there is a Microsoft branch that’s contributed to things they may use everyday like Word, Microsoft Cloud and Windows Phone applications. The young are very educated, they may watch the same TV shows, listen to the same music, perhaps even buy some clothes from the same multinational brands. But looking at the other side of the coin is very different, on this side “According to statistics, about 140,000 live in destitution, and every second citizen under the age of 25 is unemployed” While the majority are some place in the middle the average wage in Serbia is 6 times smaller than the uk. It’s usual to see people trawl bins for plastic bottles and metal cans, horses pull wagons heavily loaded with old cardboard, second hand clothes are bartered for, traded, sold, worn and re-enter the market system again.

For every advocate praising there is another painting a dire scene, both are unhelpful even if true.

And so back to the festival, to the crowds slowly shoving forward, the blows of whistles through the tunnels, the sequel of a first timer, the blatant advertising, the roar of the stages and the flashing of multiple camera phones. Back to the face of the girl I fleetingly saw, too far away to respond to. What would I have said to her, how could I convey that half the price is still a weeks salary, tell her that the festival is our cities only real cash cow, explain how the festival itself makes it hard for local business to fully profit, how those prepaid cards for double price drinks hurt locals much more than her. How could I convey that the price of tickets is just dust in the wind to the history of the ground she stands on, to the people who pass these cobbles on other weekends. I couldn’t.

Rather I’ll pray that she has a wonderful experience, pray that she gets infected with the atmosphere, touched by the city and comes back. I pray that now she knows the way she may come back when the fortress is not a festival ground. I’ll pray that she invites friends, tells them about the breathtaking fireworks that literally filled the sky with a ball of flame, about the relaxed people and chilled atmosphere, how the fortress provides amazing acoustics, how chill out zones and interactive areas let strangers engage, that she spreads a positive image about a country that’s not seen so positively by many. I pray that one day this will not be a country of extremes and that it learns to really use it’s yearly platform to establish a better tourist industry, because it’s a beautiful land and it really has so much to offer.

Official Festival Photo : Image source : https://www.flickr.com/photos/exitfestival/19417632099/ and it was totally amazing to be standing under!